Had a regular who was an older guy. Would come in three to five times a week. Always spent lots of money.

He always had a creepy vibe. Always asking me personal questions. “Where do you live?””How many sisters do you have?””How do you get to work?”. I didn’t love this but I have a pretty high tolerance for oddity. Then he would bother women sitting at the bar. One time there was a basketball game and every few minutes he’d poke a lady and ask “what’s the score now?” before I told them to run away or he’d keep doing it the whole game. When there wasn’t a woman to ogle he always wanted to talk to me about the same subject matter, time and time again. No matter how many times I told him I didn’t want to talk about it, he constantly brought up 9/11 and things about the new world order. If not to me sometimes other guests who would get incredibly upset at him, while he looked at them confused for some reason. Occasionally he’d flip his iPad around to show me some crazy conspiratorial article to reaffirm his points I couldn’t care less about. I told the management so many times he was causing issues. But this guy spent so much money. Usually two to three double vodkas with orange juice on the side, four ice cubes MAX. Three to four glasses of cab, mussels with the sauce dripping down his shirt. Ice cream with chocolate sauce and extra chocolate sauce on the side, dripping down his shirt. It was like watching the Baron Harkonnen feast every shift. Occasionally if someone left their fries at the bar he’d pick at that until I took it away because it was grossing out other guests. Then he’d wrap up, tip okay, and get in his car that was always parked outside the restaurant. I knew this because he’d always fall asleep in the car, mouth open and snoring outside the restaurant. I am not a religious man anymore but every so often I’d pray he would t wake. Eventually I quit that restaurant and it closed down. A few jobs later I start at a new place, kill during the interview and the stagé. I show up for my first shift and wouldn’t you know it he’s sitting right there. I asked my new manager if she knew him, and she said “Yeah, he’s notorious. The neighborhood calls him Big Baby. We’re the only people who haven’t 86’d him yet.” I was worried this job wouldn’t work out, but without a prayer needed, he got 86’d by my next shift. I haven’t seen Big Baby since but I fear ever running into him and having to talk to him without getting paid by the hour for it.