7/23/15 Beer Bombed By A Bum?

    A couple days ago we went and ate at Whataburger, on the corner of Slaughter Lane and IH-35.  It is pretty close to our house, so we go there about once a week.  Chubs and I love their burgers.  We were there kind of celebrating the sale of our rental house, although now there's some snags, I'll explain tomorrow or day after.
    Anyway, halfway through our meal, a bum comes in.  I flinch for a minute thinking it is one of Boy's old friends, he has the same stringy hair and diminutive frame.  We hear Boy's friend is working in the area, it would not surprise us to see him.  We have, when he was working at Sam's.  Once we determine it is not him, I get back to my story I was talking about something or other.
    The bum gets into the table right behind me and starts unloading all his stuff.  I understand it was hotter than Hades but to what end with these guys.  I don't like people that refuse to work, everyone should carry their fair share in a big society like ours.
    Anyways, he pulls something our of a green bag and pop, I'm wet, all of a sudden.  It wasn't even like in the movies where I decide to fall on the grenade to save my troops, it was pop, you're backside is now all wet.  Wife said, he dropped his soda, but within seconds I could smell alcohol.  He half-assed apologized to me.  What could I say?  I just said "shit happens or something lame.  Within seconds though, the manager came at him and yelled "you have to leave the premises, alcohol is not allowed on site.  He reluctantly put all his crap back on himself and marched himself out.
    Looking at the spray pattern, he would have covered our table, but I caught most of it on my back, but he got about four other tables.  Luckily, it was mostly empty.  A young employee quickly came out with the mop and bucket and he got on it, fast.  He gave it a pass through, said he was going to dump water and bring fresh water and soap for a second round.  He even brought me a roll of wipes, but by then it was dry and on my clothes.  The manager was kind enough to come over and fret saying I don't know what to do, it's my first week as manager, but I will at least comp your meal.  She had actually hustled when we ordered as there was a slow group of people and she jumped on second register so we could order so she was already cool with me.
    It almost went unnoticed, but there was a second bum inside going from table to table, asking people for money.  I truly hate that.  Yes, we have money, that is part of the reason we can eat out of the home, but when I was at work, I wasn't thinking "with this money I shall feed my family and that random dude that doesn't work."  I'm sorry, but move the fuck along.