Doing it for the kids.
Wednesday 28 March 2007
The drinking license of any venue is obviously of major importance because if you lose it, or do anything that risks losing it, you no longer have a business.
Underage drinking at licensed establishments is a big no-no.
Quick bit of trivia: did you know that once somebody is 18, they can legally escort their 16-17 year old mates to any restaurant or bar that serves food and, as long as they're having a meal, they can drink as much beer, cider or wine as they please? No spirits, mind, but Jesus: if even 10 per cent of the 16-17 year olds in the UK were aware of this the entire country would go down the crapper.
However, if you're by yourself, you can't legally drink in any kind of licensed premises unless you're 18 years old or over. We all know this but, of course, this doesn't stop the young'uns having a good go.
We had two instances tonight. The first was a chap who was in his mid-fifties at least and I can only assume the grandfather of three children, who ranged in age from about 12 down to about five. He was so pissed he was beyond wankered, and he figured it would be a good idea to let his two elder kids have regular sips from his various beverages. This, of course, is not a good idea, but as pissed as he was it took about half an hour to make him see any kind of sense, and it was only when his wife got involved and starting threatening him that he wised up.
The second case involved a kid of a maximum of 15 years of age whom we had been observing yesterday. He was here with his parents and three younger siblings, and was walking around smoking etc and his folks didn't give a crap. Fine, not my call. But as the night went on he also appeared to be getting increasingly intoxicated. Around midnight he somehow managed to blag a slow dance with a woman at least ten years his senior that rang all kinds of alarm bells. He left pissed. Something, Watson, was afoot.
One of my colleagues - we'll call him Edmonson - suspected that this kid had been waiting for people to leave the venue and then was prying upon their remainders, picking up near-empties or, one suspects, the odd almost full pint, and polishing 'em off. We never actually saw him doing this but there was no way he was going to be served, as that kind of thing gets places shut down without a second thought. I mean, he looked 15.
Well, tonight he was pissed again and lo and behold I caught him walking around the place - like he owned it - with half a pint of beer. "Got any ID, mate?" I enquired, and of course he did not. "That's mine then," I told him, and politely stated that if he was ever seen with an alcoholic beverage again he'd be banned from the complex. He left with his tail between his legs.
So, I went back into the club to tell the barstaff what had happened and to keep an eye out for him in the future. They all nodded in agreement, but then I noticed that another bartender at the opposite side of the club hadn't heard what I said and so I walked over to repeat it to him.
This is how it went:
Me: "OK, there's this kid, right, who's a maximum of 15 and is wearing this light blue shirt..."
Bartender: "Oh yeah, I served him earlier. Anyway, go on..."
Me: "You served him...!?!"
Bartender: "Yeah. Oh fuck. Shit, don't say anything... it's my first night..."
posted by Sheamus @ 2:23 am
