They’re Lucky That No One Got Hurt
I went to clear a guy’s glass that had about seven atoms of booze left in it. I grabbed the glass and he called me a slur and screamed. I had already moved past him when he bellowed at me again.
As I began to turn around and return the drink to him, he was glaring, his face red, and he was clenching and unclenching his fist.
As I always do in this situation, I returned the glass to him and watched him pretend to “drain” it into his mouth even though there was nothing more than a microscopic patina of fluid left within it.
When he held up the glass, having “finished” it, I pointedly turned away from him without taking it. That’s when things immediately escalated—the glass clipped my shoulder and smashed into the wall in front of me.
The guy had just hurled the glass at me, full strength, for having the audacity not to grovel in response to his rudeness. The glass shattered with incredible force against the wall in front of me, and shards of glass went everywhere.
It was a crowded balcony, and it was an absolute miracle that no one even got a minor cut. Security wrestled him out.