Even though it's pretty obvious you have an attitude problem, who's really going to give a fun-loving, half-retarded guy in a wheelchair a bad time? The night progressed, and as you consumed more and more alcohol, the more complaints I got about you trying to fondle women at the bar, and begging me to give stronger drinks to ladies in hopes of you going home with them. It became pretty clear that you're not retarded, just an ignorant disabled jerk who will stop at nothing to get some pussy, even if it means using undeserved sympathy. I finally asked calmly for you to get the hell out of my bar. You tried to pull some annoying "who, me?" routine and even had the nerve to tell me to "fuck off" and "suck your dick" on your way out. I do have to say thank you for one thing, however. You must have been doing some shopping before you stopped in because you left behind a pair of brand-new shoes. They were exactly my size, but you have horrible fashion sense. Fortunately, the receipt was in the box and I returned them today and got $65, you prick.—Anonymous