They just keep coming...
Wetherspoon's in Sheffield. Me and the ex had just finished our menial telesales job for the day, and decided to go for a pint. I'd got my Sheffield Wednesday shirt on - you could wear what you liked at the job, it was pretty laidback - and the pub was absolutely empty - just me, the missus and the barmaid.

Me: Two bottles of Beck's please.
Barmaid gets beer, opens it, and then says: No football shirts.
Me: "?"
Barmaid: There's an England game on tonight, we don't want trouble. (It was 4.30pm, the match didn't kick off til 8pm - fair enough I am a big lad but I'm with the missus and I'm not one to cause bother).
Me: "?"
Barmaid: You can wear your girlfriend's jacket, that's in the rules.

At the sheer stupidity of this (me being 6'1, built like Lawrence Dallaglio and the ex being 5'9 and built like a stick insect), I walked off into the pub next door, leaving stupid barmaid with wasted bottles of beer that'll be docked off her min wage salary.

Silly cow.
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Fri 13 May 2005, 9:27, Reply)