I write this with homemade maple jalapeno cornbread in my mouth, gifted to me by the bar staff at my local pub this evening. This is simultaneously the best and most unexpected thing I’ve ever brought home from a bar, my significant other excepted.

This got me thinking: what is the weirdest thing you’ve brought home from the bar, Lemmy?

  • orcrist@lemm.ee
    1·
    3 months ago

    Many years ago I got to the bar early, before my friends, and while waiting I applied for a job using their Wi-Fi. And I got the job. The job looked good on paper but my new boss f***** me by wage theft and pocketing pension contributions. It was fun, but it would have been more fun if I had been paid according to the law.

  • zante@lemmy.wtfEnglish
    1·
    3 months ago

    My wife !

    Baddum tshhhhhh

    Thanks folks, tip generously and tell your friends I’m here all week.

      • AlDente@sh.itjust.worksEnglish
        0·
        3 months ago

        In this case, it was a cheap blowjob bar in a shady red light district. I felt that something was wrong before I even made it back to my hotel.

          • AlDente@sh.itjust.worksEnglish
            1·
            2 months ago

            I guess it’s more brothel than bar, but it’s a place you can get a beer and a blow job. I’m not aware of any in my home country either. However, as they say: “when in Rome” (or in this case, Bangkok)…

            Since I received more than I bargained for, I won’t be going back to that establishment and I’m tempted to leave a bad review on Google.

  • Aggravationstation@feddit.uk
    0·
    3 months ago

    Not from a bar but I got drunk as a teenager and brought a pair of skis I found back to my Mum’s house. My old room was used as a store room when I moved out and they were in there for like 15 years. I helped clear it out, asked where the hell these skis came from and was reminded of the drunken find I’d totally forgotten.

  • Drunemeton@lemmy.worldEnglish
    0·
    3 months ago

    Be me: out drinking with friends for several hours.

    Be them: acting completely normal.

    Be me: drinking makes you pee, so me go pee, many times.

    Be us: we’re drunk! Having a great time.

    Be them: still acting completely normal.

    Be me: say good night and put on my leather jacket.

    Be me brain: Damn I’m drunk cuz this thing feels like it weights a ton ! Stumble home.

    Be me front door: watching the confused, bemused, astonished drunk reach for his keys and pull lemon after lime after orange out of his pockets, but no keys.

    Be me front door glass: Watching him stuff them into his jeans pockets like a never ending clown car of NINE pieces of citrus.

    Be me keyhole: Watching drunk-e-poo finally find his keys, and let himself in.

    Be me: laughing and drunk and wondering what the hell’s going on…

    Be them: laughing their asses off, wondering when I’d finally notice that every time I got up to pee they took whole bar garnish and put it in my pockets.