Someone tagged the men's room mirror again; yes, the same mirror that we've only had for five weeks. Thanks, asshole, that's another $500 you just cost us. This time, they tagged it at the Epoxies show, which I guess is the world's way of rubbing my nose in the fact that tagging is so wonderfully "cross-genre" now. It's not just for wannabe gangstas any more.
We now have a newspaper rack for The Onion next to the flyer rack. I'm so glad they've started doing a local SF edition of the paper: it is so much funnier when you read it on newsprint than online. Silly gags like "Investigators Blame Stupidity In Area Death" and "Goth, Metalhead Overcome Subcultural Differences To Find Love" get at least a 20% humor boost by being printed on actual crappy newspaper-paper. We also run an ad in it now. Alas, our ad is nonfiction, but I still get a kick out of it when I flip through a paper and see one of our ads. "Hey, that's us!"
And finally, we recently got a visit from( ). - - , , . "Are you denying me entry? Because I'll be back tomorrow to shut you down!" Well sir, we just need to see your ID... "I don't have to show you my ID, it's got my personal information on it!" , , . , . ( ) ... !
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" ". ' .
This was one of those situations where we'd love to call up and complain to the guy's boss about (shall we say) "how he carried himself", but that would just result in him being here every night for the next year.
I guess it could be worse, we could be dealing the The Sopranos instead. At least he didn't shoot anybody.