Sunday mornings are always fun at the restaurant. Servers are running their asses off, cooks are slinging food into the window as fast as they can, hosts are seating tables faster than the bussers can clean them, we have a 45 minute wait...and customers wonder why it's taking more than four minutes for their well done steaks to come up. It's awesome...but this table wasn't quite one of "those tables".
I went to Table 64 to say hello and get their drink order. The Mom orders a screwdriver, Grandma gets a coffee, and the little girls order chocolate milk. I asked The Dad what he wanted and he said, "I need you to make me a Bloody Mary, but not with that crap mix you use. That stuff's disgusting. I need you to make it from scratch." "Okay sir, I can have our bartender make you one without the mix. Do you like it spicy?" "Yeah, I like it just the way you guys make the mix but you can't use the mix." "...Okay. I'll be right back." "Miss, I just want to make sure you heard me. Don't use the mix." "Yes. Sir. I did hear you and I'll have someone make that for you right away." So, I get another server to make it (since my manager who is supposed to be helping bartend is watching college football and too busy with that to help me) and I told her to make it like we do the mix, but don't use the mix. She looked at me like I was crazy...then with sympathy realizing I just had a crazy table.
I bring out the drinks, he *looks* at his Bloody Mary and says, "You used the mix didn't you?" "No sir, I didn't. I had our bartender make it for you from scratch. Would you like to go ahead and taste it and then you can tell me if you need something added to it?" He sips and says, "It tastes like you used the mix." "Sir, I assure you, we did not use the mix. Because you asked for it just like we make the mix, I can see how it would taste similar, but it was made from scratch. Did you want me to have them make you another one?" He didn't look at me or make eye contact. His wife said, "It'll be okay. If it's not we'll just go get another from the bar." I took their order for food and walked away.
I came back once before their food was ready to get them refills. The little girls both needed more milk. I explained that the milk didn't have free refills but I'd get them more if it was okay with The Mom and The Dad. The Mom said that was fine.
I brought out their food and everything but the syrup for one of the little girls pancakes. After I put down the food I asked, "Does anyone need anything else? Tabasco, Cholula...I'll get syrup for the pancakes, but anything else right now? *pause* Okay, I'll be..." "Excuse me." "Yes, sir?" "Did you just interrupt me?" "I'm sorry?" "I was going to ask you something and you started talking right over me." "I hadn't realized I was talking over you, I'm sorry. What can I get for you?" "Do you know that I know the owners of this restaurant?" "Um. No, I didn't know that. Is there something else you need right now?" The Mom interrupts, "Will you please stop being so rude and interrupting every single time my husband tries to say something? We're trying to have a nice family breakfast and you're being nothing but rude at every turn!" I didn't even respond. Then The Dad said, "I don't see how the owners let such a snobby bitch like you wait tables on a Sunday morning when families are trying to have breakfast. I'm going to tell the owners about your rude service." I turned and walked away.
Before they left, I made a copy of their receipt, circled my name, wrote down the owners schedule at our restaurant and the number to our downtown restaurant and told him to make sure to tell the owner about our crappy Bloody Mary mix too.
They were walking past me to leave while I was putting in an order and I heard The Mom say, "On top of everything that little bitch charged us for the girls drinks when they're supposed to come with the meal."
They didn't leave me a tip, but the GM said that she talked to the owner while they were finishing breakfast and it was agreed that for calling me a bitch, The Dad would be 86'd from both restaurants. The Owner said he'll tell him when he calls to complain. The Dad hadn't realized that I know the owners, too.