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More than breakfast served to obnoxious, alpha douchebag

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Justice

The security guard asks me, “Have you ever seen that movie Hangover?” I looked at him without answering, because I know where he’s going with that question and it’s irrelevant my complaint. He turns to my friend who says she has seen it. We have just been harassed by a group of drunk men while we were having breakfast after work inside a casino café. The security guard explains, like we don’t know, that tourists come to Vegas and behave the way that they see people behave in movies. He was insinuating that we should get over it and go home. We didn’t let it go. He called his supervisor and I had to tell the story a second time.

My friend and I had been sitting by ourselves when three clearly drunk tourists walked in. As the host was seating them, they insisted on being seated at the nearest table to us. They were not making any attempt to hide their interest in us. I’m used to this kind of behavior. A group of young men that had been sitting in the same table before them were staring just as intently, so I didn’t pay it much mind.

Moments later, the alpha douche of the new group left his table and came to our table. He pulled out one of the empty chairs and asked if he could join us, assuming we’d grant him permission to sit in the chair he prepared to sit in. We very politely told him that we were not interested in having another person at our table. This rejection in front of his friends, albeit a polite rejection, brought out his unbridled douchebaggery. Sitting back down at his table, he and his friends began to yell out stupidities to try to coax a conversation out of us. “You’re gorgeous!” one of them repeated in our general direction. “Where are you from?” they insisted on knowing. We ignored them even though it was infuriatingly irritating. About the time that they sat down we were already ready for our check so we were going to let it go. We got up to leave. They kept it up. We kept ignoring them as we were walking by. “Yeah, go home! Go home you f-ing bitches!” They said it again to make sure we heard them.

Upon our insistence, my friend and I led two security guards and what I’m guessing was the security manager back to the table of misogynistic drunks. For his physical stature or his loud voice, it was somehow clear who the alpha douche was. He spoke for the group. He denied the allegations, but (luckily for us) security asked him to leave anyway, which brought out the worst in him. He got in the manager’s face and loudly exhaled a list of profanities, at which point we gained all the credibility in the world. Another one of them freaked out on security as well. They coincidentally had ordered the same thing I had ordered and had barely begun to eat. I’d have been mad too. It was really delicious.

The manager told alpha douche, “You can still leave, but now you’re gonna have to bail your buddy out of jail. We’re calling Metro.” The mention of police involvement escalated the situation in such an unpleasant way. Unpleasant for them, anyway. I was smiling. Justice was served.

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