Incompetence on parade I: At the bar

[muckefuck]

Last night, monshu and I met for drinks and dinner at Big Chicks and there was a new face behind the bar. I've only seen this young woman once or twice serving food and didn't realise she could bartend.

Turns out there's a good reason for that: She can't.

monshu ordered his regular: "scotch and water". The ensuing dialogue was something like this:

"You want that in a small glass." [gestures to indicate a shotglass]

*blink* "No, tall."

"Rocks?"

*blink* "Yeah, rocks."

(For those of you who don't drink or, at least, not in bars: Every other single time I've seen him order this drink in the nearly ten years we've been together, the only question from the bartender has been what kind of scotch he wants. Scotch and water is always served tall with rocks unless you explicitly specify otherwise.)

She turned to me and I said, "Hardcore". She smiled and asked, "Now what goes into a 'hardcore'?"

My turn to blink. "It's the brand of hard cider y'all serve here."

But the absolute pinnacle came while we were finishing our meals. We heard her call to the usual bartender, "Greg, can you come over and make a margarita?"

(For non-drinkers: This is the equivalent of a short-order chef saying, "Tony, can you come back here and make a reuben?" In other words, WTFF?)