Goddamn hippies.

Cali Girl's last customers tonight were a couple of weirdos. One of them was wearing one of those round wool Rastafarian-wannabe hats, and stank of weed. His girlfriend looked like a soccer mom, but was speaking absolute gibberish. I seriously walked by and she was looking intently at the guy and saying, “gnarble garble larble barble.” What the fuck? I had to go in the back before I burst out laughing.

They rolled in around twenty minutes to close, plenty of time to drink their beer, eat their munchies, and GTFO. But of course, they chilled out for half an hour past close. Now, usually I'd just think they didn't realize we were closed, or whatever.

But it was carpet-cleaning night, which meant that at about ten minutes to close, a crew of guys started dragging in hoses and equipment. They they moved all the booths and tables, stacking them up on top of each other … and still this couple sat. At 12:25 the cleaning crew finally started running their vacuums at ear-splitting volume, and five minutes after that the couple finally left.

Personally, I'd be very uncomfortable sitting in a restaurant that was being disassembled around me! I'd feel like I was in the way and out of place, like I didn't belong and needed to get out.

Of course, I don't go into restaurants late at night after hot-boxing my car.