Single Weirdoes p.1 - Bottle-of-wine-Billy
Billy is about eighty years old and every other afternoon he likes to visit the restaurant X. for an early dinner. He always prefers an enormous table by the window which normally sits six and orders a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc with some clam chowder. I’ve never seen somebody consuming the wine so fast. When I used to work at the wine bar me and my buddy had shots of Zinfandel while the boss was in the storage room, but Billy was quicker than us – it was needless to bring him an ice bucket – by the time you come back with it he kills the bottle. He has a reputation of a kind-hearted alcoholic who prefers to be left alone. He doesn’t bother you and even leaves twenty percent tip on the regular basis; it sucks, however, that he stays for about three hours on average and you cannot turn a table.
Once in the beginning of my shift at about 4pm I spotted Bill dozing at his favorite table by the window. He was done with his meal and wine altogether but apparently wasn’t in a rush to leave the restaurant. My friend Jenny, a super-friendly Chinese waitress, informed me that the guy destroyed a bottle and two glasses of wine during the lunch and was “taking a break”. I didn’t mind until he started snoring laud enough to attract the attention of nearby guests. I approached and asked if everything was ok and he waived at me. It looked like he was saying good bye to me and to his miserable life. I’ve decided that letting him die by the table is not such a good idea so I called the manager. By the time manager on duty arrived, Billy fell asleep once again masterfully using his walking cane as a pillow. As we managed to bring him back to life with a help of gentle slaps in his face, he started yelling all of the sudden: “Where is my soup!!!” I swear god, he never ordered anything from me and that’s what I told to the manager. We politely asked poor guy to leave the restaurant premises, but he refused threatening to file a claim. Finally we kicked him out and on the way out he was floating through the dining-room screaming that he will never come back… Next day he was sitting at the same table ordering Sauvignon Blanc once again. Eventually we got rid of him by introducing a two-glasses-of- wine-rule which was impossible for him to stomach. I like to believe that we saved Billy a couple of years of life.
