Wow, EVERYONE thinks you're a jackass...

Every once in a while a jackass gets his due…

You see, at one of my favorite watering holes there’s a guy who is the biggest, sorry I have to steal the term, fuck drop you’ll ever meet. Acts like he owns the place - hell, he’s told people he owns the place. He’s loud, rude, manipulating, you name it. He once got into a fight because someone wouldn’t play the songs he wanted on the jukebox - and they were putting the money in. He’s thrown bottles, started fights, insulted just about everyone, dropped his pants, pissed off the bartenders, etc.

Two weeks ago, there was a dart tournament on Saturday afternoon. This is not a time that he frequents the place, but when he heard that an ex-girlfriend (he’s finally married to the girl he’s lived with for nearly 10 years - the girlfriend was during that 10 years) was going to be there, he called her and basically threatened her life if she were to show up.

This news ended up getting to the owner, who lives in Milwaukee. Jackass always sucks up to the owner. The owner called him up and told him “look, you don’t own that bar, I do. You think that somehow my business relies on the paltry amount of money you spend there? You keep more business out than you bring in! This is your only warning. I have told the manager and the bartenders that if you so much as breathe wrong, I want them to call the police and your ass will be kicked out of my bar forever.”

Jackass tried to protest and kiss ass. Owner had nothing to do with it. Jackass doesn’t hang out there as much anymore.

The owner was in town last night and I thanked him for calling him. He said “well, sometimes he just needs an attitude adjustment.” To which I replied, “No, he’s just a jackass.” Owner smiled, winked, and said, “yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you were a friend of his.”

I know, not really a pit rant, but I wanted to share a story that brightened my day.

One of the fields my father owns is partly swamp and, therefore, a great hunting area. This 50 acres borders another man’s property, and ‘John’ is generally known as a major-league asshole.

John also had a private wetland game reserve license and was very protective of his fenceline and the Canadian geese that hang out there. So protective, in fact, that when Dan (a family friend) was on OUR land scouting things out on OUR property, John called the DNR on him. A couple of times.

Now, Dan was doing nothing resembling an illegal activity, but the warden warned Dan away from John’s fenceline just the same - to keep peace between the neighbors, you see.

Fast forward a couple of months. Dan is checking some traps he had set, looks across the field towards John’s place, and sees John and three other men walking along. With shotguns. Out of season.

Oops.

Dan is still not quite sure who called the game warden ( :smiley: ), but the upshot was that John and his three buddies had their guns confiscated and they each received a $3,000 fine. And deal ol’ John had an extra $5,000 fine slapped on him for violating his game preserve license :slight_smile:

There is occasionally justice. Not often, mind you, but occasionally.

And let me guess. You aren’t tellin’, are ya? :smiley:

Was that owner’s name Lynn Bodoni by any chance? Sure sounds like her modus operandi.

:smiley: