This town, is coming like a golf town, too many golfers on the bar floor.
The long hot summer after I left Uni was spent working in a pub near a golf course.

Golfers paid us at the bar to use the course, £8 for 18 holes, for which we gave them a blue luggage tag type thing with a handwritten number on it from a stack behind the bar. I watched as the manager sold 4 tickets, numbers 40-43, and gave them out, then took two blank tags and wrote '42' and '43' on them and put them back on top of the pile, putting half the money in the till and the other half in his pocket. Well, that looks simple, I thought. And next time it was my turn to serve people wanting to play golf I did similar, sold two tickets, pocketed all the money and wrote two new ticket for the pile. This went on for weeks, a sunny Saturday could easily earm me an extra £50 on top of my pay and I hated the place and the people enough to not even feel the slightest bit of guilt. And I never got caught. Nor did the other barman who I realised was doing the same. Nor did the manager. but we did come to an unspoken agreement that it was time to knock it on the head when at about 3pm one Saturday there were 16 people dotted around the bar in twos and threes talking about how they'd played that day and over the course of my glasses collecting rounds I found 6 different tickets numbered '78'.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Wed 13 Jul 2011, 12:04, Reply)