I’m in a bar, one of them Tiki cocktail places that are thankfully slowly dying out through lack of popularity. I soon learn why, when I order a beer. They don’t sell beer...
I’m in a bar, one of them Tiki cocktail places that are thankfully slowly dying out through lack of popularity. I soon learn why, when I order a beer. They don’t sell beer. Imagine it, a bar that doesn’t sell beer. My only option is a near 20-dollar elaborate fruity mess that is 90% ice and served in a pineapple.
I put down my drink and head to the restroom/toilet. The one unisex toilet is being used. I wait outside. 3 minutes later I’m still waiting. How long do you give people in this situation? 5 minutes later and a queue is forming behind me. Some fella behind me gets annoyed and bangs on the door. Nothing.
The annoyed man takes the initiative and heads over to the bouncer to tell him. I give up on this farce and walk back to my watered down pineapple farce at the bar.
A minute later and the bouncer walks over to the barman.
“Those two were having sex in the toilet,” he says.
The barman, slightly shocked, says: “Throw them out then.”
The bouncer, nonplussed, responds: “No. But I told them, if they do it again then they are out.”
How many times is he expecting them to do that in there? Is this common? Everyone gets one free ride?
Taking out money from a cash machine. Using my British card is a regular hassle as the fraud team thinks I’ve been stitched up and shut down my account every few weeks. This time I need the cash to pay rent so I’m stuck on hold to Britain/India to speak to someone to resolve this mess. The worst part is they talk you through your last 5 transactions so I have to admit to all the things I’ve tried to forget purchasing.
I give up on this farce and walk back to my watered down pineapple farce at the bar.
“One payment of 15 pounds at Paranoid Tiki Lounge.” says the operator.
“Yep, that was me.” I say.
After I’ve signed off on some other terrible purchases I’m told I can wait ten minutes and I can use my card again.
So I remain in the cash machine section of the bank. It is Saturday, so this is the only part open. It’s not a bad place. Clean, air-conditioned and with The Jam playing through the speakers. Might spend more time here in the future.
Lots of different people come in and out to use the ATM while I’m waiting. One particular chap makes an impression.
He is overtly loud, the sort of person that forces a veneer of constant happiness in an attempt to starve off hysterical nighttime sobbing.
He is telling his friend about his business partner.
“It’s great. I’m ADD and he is OCD so we are like totally perfect for each other.”
His friend laughs at the idea of two people have anxiety disorders and says:
“Oh that is just so perfect.”
“Yeah, we have two business cards. Mine says, Creates Chaos and his says Maintains Order.”
The friend laughs again. He turns to me and says: “Don’ t you think that’s great?”
Perhaps she thinks I work here. Similar to those men that make you feel awkward in toilets by helping you wash your hands. The “No soap, no hope, no spray, no way” characters.
Instead of singing “No splash, no cash” and offering them a hand towel. I just nod and say “Brilliant.”
Follow Tom on twitter: @twgreaney
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