Got cut off and kicked out before my first drink because I stumbled a little bit on the way in.
I was entirely too drunk for my own good and attempted to break up a minor verbal altercation between two patrons sitting on opposite sides of me by loudly slurring “THERE’S NO NEED TO BE CONTENTIOUS, GUYS!” The bartender quietly asked me to leave and I argued a bit until a bouncer showed his face and I decided to obey.
I got kicked out for “falling asleep at the bar.” I have no idea where the bartender got that one. I was on three Red Bulls. I barely closed my eyes to blink! That bar went out of business a couple months later, possibly because they were kicking paying customers out for absolutely no reason.
Dropped a glass and broke it. Bought another beer. Dropped that glass and broke it.
Tried to pay with a credit card and got into an argument with the bartender when they wouldn’t take it for a sub-$10 purchase. I started a Pit thread on that one that ended up going for way too many pages.
6., 7., 8., 9., (& more?) - I don’t remember.
I haven’t been drunk in over six months now. That’s probably a good thing.
Only twice. the first time, I deserved it. I was drunk and pissed off and was being a jerk. Pushed a girl out of my way, so the bouncers threw me out…physically.
The Second time I had just walked into the place…where i used to hang out a lot (anyone stationed in Mannheim during the 90’s? Ever been to the Skyline in Kafertal?) when a bouncer told me I’d had enough. I protested, since I hadn’t actually had anything to drink, but decided it wasn’t worth it. I said screw you to the guy and went to another bar.
Actually theres a third time, but the bar I was in erupted into a major big ass brawl where my buddy and I were physically tossed out by the brawlers. I don’t actually count that since i would have left anyway.
My story is extremely uninteresting and yet I will relate it in the interest of completeness. When Whatsit Jr. was about a year old, we took him to a local pizza joint in Seattle to get some lunch. Unfortunately it turned out that the pizza joint was actually a bar that had restaurant seating also, and they politely asked us to leave as they did not permit children inside. So we said okay, and found somewhere else to have lunch.
A couple of weeks after a very serious girlfriend broke up with me when I was in university, I went drinking with a couple of guys from the dorm. I don’t remember the last 30–45 minutes of our time in the bar, but apparently it took 3 or 4 big bouncers to throw me out, according to the guys I went with. I’m totally average size and was in no better than decent shape, but I’d been doing martial arts since I was about 16. My guess is that they told me to leave and tried to manhandle me a bit, and even hammered I was able to throw a couple of them or give them enough trouble that they got backup, one guy for each limb. I really don’t remember though. I do vaguely remember puking all over the back seat of my car on the way home.
Lessons learned: don’t drink when you’re depressed or upset. Blacking out is not fun. Puke smell takes ages to fade from car upholstery, no matter how well you clean it. Chicks aren’t worth getting in trouble over.
That was the one time I got thrown out. For all I know, I’d already puked or something and that’s why they threw me out. I don’t think I was belligerent or obnoxious, though I can see myself doing something stupid like hitting on someone who didn’t welcome attention from my drunk ass.
The line to get into the bar. The bouncer was chatting up my date and she was flirting with him. I told her, within his earshot, that most of her problems are because she talks “to any asshole who says hi”. Penis ensued. Entry was not gained.
From a party in a mobile home. Some random dude picked me up and threw me out the front door. All things being equal, that was probably for the best.
From the elevator in a hotel in San Antonio, because I was in the process of using it as a makeout spot because the hotel room party was too crowded.
And finally, from a military formal dinner, where it’s completely normal to get sloshed and rowdy. But tip over backward in your chair, and apparently you’re suddenly persona non grata.
I quit drinking once I finally put together what my drinking problem is… namely, that I reach the dumbass phase long before I reach the happy festive phase. I moved onto weed, which brought both phases simultaneously and tended not to make me get grand ideas such as provoking bouncers. Now even the glory of weed has faded and I’m left essentially with nothing.
Hey, don’t ask me to be more clear on how many guys there were. I still don’t remember what happened. I was there with a few friends and while they concurred that it was more than two guys, their reports varied on whether it was three or four required to actually get me out the door. The consistent thing they said was that at one point there was one guy on each arm, and at one point one guy on each leg. Nobody was clear on whether this was at the same time or at different points in time.
I do know that my boot toes were scuffed, which shows they must have pretty much picked me up and manhandled me, and one of my belt loops had its stitching popped, which means that they probably used my belt as a handle. Other than that, I got nothin’.
We were almost thrown out of Louie’s Backyard on South Padre Is, TX when I was on spring break. My friend had met this group of annoying girls and they glommed onto us for like two days. Anyhow, we all go into the club and they are so drunk they can barely stand. The bouncer grabs us and tells us we have to leave. I ask why, and he says “because your friends are drunk”. I quickly reply “Whooh hold on a second! We just met these girls in line!” at which point, two problems were immediately solved.
Once, I came close to fighting my way out of a bar. OK, it was technically more of a speakeasy. A friend had got wind of this place, so he, another friend, and I set out for adventure.
Place was freaking popular! So much so, we couldn’t even make it through the crowd to the bar! After several minutes, we decided to split. On the way out, we politely requested our cover charge back. We hadn’t drank (not there, at least), we’d barely set foot in the place, hadn’t gotten a lick of enjoyment all around. Then it starts.
We argued for a while. Finally, one of the bouncers (there were two at the door) grabs some money from the cash box and throws it on the floor.
We three were good friends, and could operate in coordination pretty well. We were on a landing, so without a word, we took positions: M would deal with anyone coming down the stairs, I’d handle anyone coming up the stairs, and B would slam the cash table into the boucers, allowing us to run over the fallen bodies of whoever I’d just knocked over, and make our getaway.
The second bouncer saw trouble brewing, and gave us our money back. He was friendly and humble, but we knew better, and left real quick.
Yes I have in fact been thrown out of a bar. It was a few years ago when I was still running wild, before I got married. A friend and I were having a “girls night out”. She was married at the time. We had closed one place down but weren’t ready to call it a night. So we went to a gay bar that stays open till the wee hours. Its actually the best place in town and everyone gay or straight ends up there by the end of the night. This place is in an old warehouse. The first level is section off in to a huge dance floor, a seating area/bar,offices…and a stage (for drag shows). Above all that is a loft area where people can watch the activity below. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but liked my weed. The atmosphere in this club was so surreal that I figured a hit or two on a joint would just enhance the experience all the more. We went up to the balcony area and hung out for a while to see if it would be private enough to fire one up…since there were people up there doing oral on each other with no one doing anything, we figured we were safe. So we lit up and started passing it back and forth, being discreet we though. About two minuets later a huge bouncer appears out of no where and tells us to follow him. I nearly pissed myself. He took us to this little room and asked for our ID’s . He left us to sweat it out for a bit. We were terrified, having no idea what happens to people caught smoking dope in a bar. Was it a fellony , misdemeaner perhaps just a ticket? He came back and said to follow him again. He led us to the entrance of the place. There was a guy on the door checking ID’s and letting a few people in at a time…there were about 100 people waiting in line. The bouncer who caught us announced to the door guy and everyone in line that we were being tossed out, not to be let back in, for smoking dope in the balcony. Most of the people in line started booing the bouncers and trying to talk them in to letting us stay. They said they couldn’t let us back in that night…we didn’t care and were very glad to leave without the police being called.
Never thrown out. But there was once where, after sitting there an hour or so, a patron came over and told me how everyone in the bar was “spooked” (yep, that was the word) by me—since no one recognized me. I chatted with him for a while, letting him know that I wasn’t any kind of law enforcement officer. What wasn’t said, but I inferred nonetheless, was that my exit would go a long way toward relieving tensions.
I was once ordered to leave for hiccupping. I have the world’s loudest hiccups. People turn around and stare when I hiccup, and their jaws drop when I do it again.
I once had to leave a bar because my hiccups were drowning out the band. And making everybody laugh.
I know I have been, I can even tell you a couple of the countries, but for the life of me I can remember no details - which sort of tells you that I had a portion of my youth (and not so youth) that had some questionable aspects to it. Suffice it to say, “ah…yes?” to the question.
Only once, and not for anything rowdy, and it totally wasn’t my fault.
My friends and I were celebrating my friend’s birthday a few years ago, and went out. The first bar we went to the brother of the birthday boy bought the first round, and brought them back. The next round was bought by a different friend, and about two minutes after he brought them to the table, and told us that, just so we know, he wasn’t able to tip the bartender because it’s a cash-only bar, and the drinks were $38, and he only had $40 cash. Well, at this time the brother told us the same thing…that he also only had $40 and the drinks were obviously the same price the first time around.
I go “you idiots! You should have just asked one of us for some extra cash!” I go up to the bar with the intention of giving them $40 cash as tip for the last two rounds (it was a slow night and they clearly saw we were all part of a group,) but even before I could explain the mistake my friends had made and give him the money, he just tells me,
“Finish your drinks fast then get the fuck out of here.”
I was going to give him a nice tip, but since he didn’t care to hear our explanation (which was that we didn’t know it was cash only, and they didn’t even have an ATM) then they didn’t deserve our money.
I have no idea where the bartender got that one. I was on three Red Bulls. I barely closed my eyes to blink! That bar went out of business a couple months later, possibly because they were kicking paying customers out for absolutely no reason.
