On Thin Ice
I used to work at a bar/restaurant that was inside a hockey arena. It was a cool place, and the people who worked there were fantastic. However, the arena was home to a now-defunct OHL hockey team.
On the surface, it was pretty cool, but the players were just awful when they would come in after the games. Most of them were 18 to 20 years old at the time. They never had any money, and they acted like they owned the place.
One night, after a game, a player—a top-five NHL prospect—came in. He ordered a pizza, ate, got the bill, and waited until I was out of sight to leave the book on the table. Then he left.
When I approached the table, I assumed he had left cash. Nope. Instead, he left me the most useless items ever: five promotional hockey cards that the team gave out that night, and one of them was the mascot.
I went and told the manager, who said that I was going to have to cover the $12 for the pizza. I, a 24-year-old waiter, was irate at having to pay for a meal for a kid that was getting ready to sign a huge NHL contract. I threw a huge hissy fit, and eventually, he agreed to void it.
The guy ended up playing in the NHL and had a pretty solid career. I should have just paid for the pizza and had him sign his dumb card. milarso