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Ejected from Kyteler's Inn, one more time

Late April, 2007 —

I visited Kyteler's at least twice after the April 2007 incident. On one occasion the manager looked at me directly as I sat in the beer garden with a friend. He didn't say anything, apparently tired of ejecting me or finally just not remembering why he didn't like me.

The reason he didn't like me was that I wrote about the way that they had dismissed me from their employ.

I got ejected from Kyteler's, again — the second time since I quit* my job there five years ago.

I had determined never to go back. I had determined so, also, about two years ago, before the first time they kicked me out.

So there it is. I was asking to get ejected, the other evening, just by going in. I should have expected it; and in fact I had warned a new friend who was with me that I'd had problems earlier with Kyteler's. It was in my karma to be escorted out, having determined (again) by principle never to give them any of my money.

And I reveled in it, later. It became even funnier to think about. In fact, I think it's getting funnier still. I got what I deserved, and a good laugh too.

The bouncers did an excellent job, I have to say — a couple of gentlemen in a rough business.

My friend got to the bar first, and was probably ordering for all of us. Not assuming so, I stepped up too, and asked for a pint of Guinness. At least, I think I did — I can't remember whether or not I even had a chance. The manager, behind the bar, told me that he wasn't going to serve me — and that I'd have to leave.

The bouncers were on the scene rapidly, the guy inside the door obviously getting a clear signal of trouble and the guy outside the door following rapidly on. They stood between me and the manager, who had come out from behind the bar. They gently urged me toward the exit, keeping a distance between myself and the manager, who kept encouraging me to leave.

I asked him "why?" a couple of times — just being awkward, I admit. "You know why," he said — fairly enough.

I'd written some web-pages about my experience losing my job there, those five years ago. This fellow had featured prominently, and hadn't come off smelling like roses in my version of the story.

The last time I checked, two years ago, my pages on the issue featured more prominently in a Google search of "Kyteler's Kilkenny" than did Kytelers.com. Management had good reason to refuse me a drink; and full justification for setting me back out on the street.

The friend who'd paid, thanks to the fairness of the staff, got his money back from the bar — money paid for drinks already served.

We walked back to my place, where I told a bit of the back-story and we had a giggle.

__   ___   __

* I'd been fired without being fired — scheduled, suddenly, for no hours. It's a classic restaurant practice — although normally the decrease happens more gradually.

They tried to stiff me a few quid, too — another classic trick.

In any case, I worked half of the day on which I learned I wasn't working the next week, and then I couldn't do it any more.

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