08/10/2026
THE BYOB BOAT CLUB
We meet at the ramp with our Yetis and booze,
Then head to your dock with no money to lose.
We’ll use your slips, bathrooms, beach and your view,
Your staff and your trash cans — how generous of you.
We’ll sit at your bar while we pour from our stash,
Then wonder why restaurants keep asking for cash.
“We’re supporting your business!” we proudly declare,
While buying one Coke for six people to share.
Your dock costs money? Your employees too?
Insurance and upkeep? That sounds like a YOU.
We came for the music, the sunset, the scene,
But paying for drinks? Don’t be ridiculous, queen.
So cheers to the BYOB Boat Club today:
We want all the amenities — we just don’t want to pay.
And when someone says, “Outside alcohol’s not allowed,”
We’ll act deeply offended… and extremely loud.
“How DARE the manager tell us to go!
We’re loyal customers! Don’t you KNOW?”
We bought one and a half cheeseburgers here once,
Possibly June. Possibly twenty months.
Therefore your dock is basically ours,
Along with your beach and your live music for hours.
Our tequila bottle? We brought it from home.
But surely your waterfront is where it should roam.
Then comes the threat every manager fears:
“ONE STAR! AND WE’VE BEEN COMING HERE FOR YEARS!”
We’ll race home to Google, emotionally scarred,
And type out a novel about your terrible bar:
“RUDE MANAGEMENT. NEVER AGAIN.
They actually expected us to buy drinks FROM THEM.”
“We spent $24 here sometime in May!
After everything we’ve done for this place — THIS is how you repay?”
“We brought twelve friends and three coolers aboard!
Do you have any idea how much business we ignored?”
We’ll demand an apology, maybe something for free,
For the trauma of learning how restaurants work financially.
Because rules are for others.
Expenses aren’t real.
And our bottle of tequila
is apparently part of the meal.
So cheers to the BYOB Boat Club,
Where entitlement flows and common sense stops.
We’ll bring our own liquor,
Take up your docks,
Use all your amenities,
Then complain about costs.
And if you politely tell us,
“Guys, you can’t drink that here,”
We’ll clutch our Yetis in disbelief and declare:
“THIS PLACE HAS REALLY GONE DOWNHILL.”
Because entitlement tastes better
when you bring it from the house.
And apparently so does the tequila