by Jake Christie

THIS ISN'T THAT KIND OF PLACE.
a story.

– Excuse me, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

– Why?

– See that sign?

– What sign?

– The one that says I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.

– Yeah, so?

– I am refusing to serve you.

– What did I do?

– Does the sign say that I have to tell you?

– No, but–

– I'm exercising my right to refuse service and my right to not tell you why.

– That's ridiculous.

– What kind of place do you think this is?

– This is a bar, isn't it?

– Yes.

– I was under the impression that a man can walk into a bar and buy a drink.

– Normally you'd be right. Just not today.

– What's so special about today?

– It's not what's special about today, it's what's special about you.

– My mother always told me I was special.

– Well, she was right.

– I'll take one pint of beer, please.

– Sir, I'm not going to serve you.

– Even when I asked so nicely?

– Even so.

– Have you ever been refused service before?

– No.

– So you have no idea what it feels like?

– I think I can guess.

– I don't think you can. It feels bad.

– That's what I'd guess.

– Really bad.

– Sorry.

– Really really bad.

– Okay, I'll serve you.

– Really?

– Yes, you can stay.

– Thank you so–

– –but you're going to have to put on some pants.


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