Jon N.
Yelp
Rather than write a standard review, I'll provide a detailed personal account of my experiences at Sligo - a straightforward narrative that will describe what I perceive as being exceptionally poor customer service.
Slightly over a month ago I entered this establishment for the second time, looking to relax and knock back some brews at the conclusion of a long, trying day. After downing a few cans of the classic "Jaws" beer, Narragansett, I noticed a forlorn-looking gentleman sitting to my left. Upon attempting to strike up a conversation, I learned that he was deaf. As my sign language is somewhat rusty, we began communicating via our phones. I discovered that he was quite an interesting, passionate, and accomplished character, an activist, and a DJ. He was also getting a bit drunk (though certainly not causing any problems), and I respectfully declined his offer of shots on several occasions.
Half an hour or so later, the bartender - a chubby, bespectacled individual with shaggy hair and an amusing air of condescension - who had been eyeing the deaf gentleman (who was no longer sitting beside me) with a look of impatience and disdain, suddenly informed me that he was cut off and needed to leave the premises at that very moment. He further stated that it was my responsibility to arrange his immediate departure, so as to eliminate his liability as an overly drunken customer. When I politely challenged his aggressive and unreasonable demand, he said "Get the fuck out." Rather than deliver him a crisp bitch slap, which is precisely what I would have done in my wilder days, I walked out with the deaf gentleman, Jacob, along with two other patrons who had overheard the entire exchange and were thoroughly disgusted. We adjourned to a bar next door, The Burren, a business that has bartenders with incomparably more class.
Fast-forward to yesterday afternoon, when I entered Sligo in pursuit of some frosty beers after an especially challenging morning. The same guy was manning the bar, and upon noticing my arrival he swiftly beelined in my direction. Attempting to make some semblance of peace, I reached out and shook his hand. "You're banned," he said. "For life?", I asked. "Yes," he replied. "I'm banned because I wouldn't kick out a deaf stranger?" "Yeah. The manager said so." "Really? There was no manager here that day, so you must have asked him to 86 me for life, which is absolute bullshit." Blank stare. "I thought this was the quintessential dive bar," I continued, floored by his draconian nonsense and haughty tone. "It is," he replied, dumbly. And with that I'd had enough and headed for the door.
As someone who is more than passingly familiar with the bar industry, it's extraordinarily seldom that I have encountered such strikingly insolent, offensive, cowardly, and, ultimately, unprofessional behavior.
Additionally, as someone who also studies clinical psychology, it's painfully obvious that beneath the bartender's gruff and combative demeanor there is a sad, miserable little man who suffers from a deep-seated inferiority/self-loathing complex. Poor fella.