It's been awhile...lets jump right in.
Friday, Table 10
A party of four middle aged (45-ish) folks stopped by to have some dinner. First, I offered them drinks...they all ordered something different, but nothing terribly complicated (a bloody mary, a house margarita, an electric lemonade and a peach cooler) as I was walking away I overheard one of the guys say, "We should've made her write that down. You know she's going to fuck them all up." And right then, I knew this was only going to get better.
I made their drinks and got them back to them in a timely fashion and they weren't ready to order yet, so I wandered off and did some other fun waitressy stuff and when I get back to the dining room 80's Hair Guy (think Ted McGinley, Married with Children) from my table is talking to my manager/bartender who is making a new bloody mary for him. I walk over to the table when he gets back and ask if there'd been a problem. (I mean, obviously there had been but I like to know what the problem was and apologize properly if it was my fault or make sure the customer knows why it happened...it makes me feel better) 80's Hair says, "Yeah, in that bloody mary you made the celery was moldy and it was disgusting. But your manager took care of it for me." "O-kay. Sorry about that, I hadn't noticed mold but glad it's all taken care of now. Are you guys ready to order?"
They order and just to prove to them how very cool I am, I write nothing down. I walk away to make their salads and in the two minutes it takes for me to get back, 80's Hair is back at the bar talking to my manager. I drop off the salads and go check with the manager to see what his deal was this time. He said that when he told me about the moldy celery, I called him a liar and pointed out that he was going to have to pay for it anyway. I started to tell the manager that no such conversation had happened and he told me not to worry, he'd seen the celery, he knew the guy was full of it. So, we left it at that.
I bring out their food, everyone seems quite pleased. I'd made no mistakes and couldn't help but smirk at 80's Hair Guy. (I'd since decided he made the first rude comment, considering he'd been the only one starting any trouble.) I come back to check on them, for the second time, about 15 minutes into their meal to suggest dessert and clear plates...and 80's Hair Guy says, "Well, the steak is excellent. Really above par. Far more than I would've expected from this restaurant. But. Oh, nevermind. Wait. I really should tell you. But. No, don't worry about anything. It's all fine." Now, as curious as this is making me I have a new table and I really would just love it if he'd stop blabbering, "Sir, if something is wrong, tell me. I'll do my best to fix it, but I can't do anything if you don't say anything."
"I've picked six hairs out of my mashed potatoes. Everytime I took a bite there was another hair in my mouth. I threw them on the floor so I can't show them to you. Can you bring me new mashed potatoes?" And he hands me a plate with maybe three bites of potatoes left. I get him new potatoes and tell my manager about the six invisible hairs. My manager replied, "Fuck that weirdo. Don't give him no discounts. He's trying to get free shit. He better go to Wendy's and cut off his finger. *maniacal laughter*" Yeah, and the customer's the weirdo.
Anyway. After I dropped off their check, 80's Hair Guy comes up to me and says, "Excuse me, my meal's still on the ticket." "Yes, sir. I talked to my manager and since we replaced the food considering how much you'd already eaten, he felt a discount wasn't warranted. Have a great night."
After they'd left, the manager came over and said that 80's Hair Guy had threatened to call the Health Department for the moldy celery and the hair in his potatoes if his meal and drink weren't removed from the bill.
Tuesday
Sunday
Table 44
I'm not sure how far these people had to walk from their trailer park to get to get to the restaurant, but I sure hope next time they make the trek they find somewhere else to stop and eat.
As soon as they sat down, all four of them (yes, including the 13 year old girl) lit up their Camel unfiltered cigarettes. They smoked while they ordered and while they ate. It was all really gross to me.
But let's start a little before the puff-puff-take a bite portion of the meal. I walk up to the table and ask if they'd like to start with something to drink. "Well, hell yeah little missy, I say we'd like some drinks." "Okay...what can I get for you?" "Drinks, isn't that what you said you were going to get us?" *all laugh* *I stand there waiting for someone to actually order something, no one does* "Okay, well, if you're not ready I'll just get you some water." and I start to walk away, because seriously, I have no patience. The lady says, "Ignore them. I'll have a coke" The 13-year old chain smoker says, "I'll have Mountain Dew." I tell her we don't have Mountain Dew and she starts crying. Crying, over no Mountain Dew. The Lady says, "Just bring her a Sprite. That'll be okay" The little girl lights another cigarette and wipes her eyes. The guy on the left says, "I wanna beer." I ask what kind of beer. "The only kind of beer there should be. A cold one." I tell him what we have on tap...and he says, "Honey, if it's cold that's all I care about. Bring this son-of-a-bitch one, too." (the son-of-a-bitch being the guy on the right).
I start to walk away to get their drinks and guy on the left says, "Hold on, Missy. Ain't cha gonna take our order? We ain't here for our health ya know. We want some food, dammit." I come back and take their order which is all the same thing, "We need four of them roast beefs on bread. With smashed taters and so much gravy if my head fell into the plate I'd drown. Ya got that? Enough gravy to drown me in." Seriously, that's exactly what he said.
I bring out the drinks and hand the ladies straws for their soft drinks. Guy on the Right says, "Hows about some straws for our beers? We ain't good enough for straws? hahaha" I don't laugh, instead, I just walk away...and as I do Guy on the Left says, "Too bad she ain't got no damn sense of humor. I hate them stuck-up Mexicans think they're smart 'cause they know English."
I just ignored him.
When I brough out their food, the Guy on the Right says to the 13 year old chainsmoker, "And you better eat every fuckin' bite of that too. Ya hear me, every last fuckin' bite."
I come back half-way through their meal to see if they're okay...and they're having a burping contest.
I come back to drop off their check...and the young girl isn't done eating...she's the only one. I offer to take their plates and the Guy on the Right says to the young girl, "Are you eatin' anymore?" She starts crying again, and says, "I can't." The Lady tells me, "Just leave the plate, she'll finish it." So, I walk away...and from the bar I watch as the guy gets food on a fork and tries to make the young girl eat it, dropping it on her clothes and smearing gravy all over her face. I asked my manager to go over there and talk to them, and all he said is, "It's family business. I'm just gonna stay out of it. Just don't look if it bothers you."
And I'm really sad to say, that's what I did. I ignored it...but I didn't know what to say to them, they scared me a little. Though, I should've taken a chance to tell them off...considering they left a fifty cent tip.
I'm not sure how far these people had to walk from their trailer park to get to get to the restaurant, but I sure hope next time they make the trek they find somewhere else to stop and eat.
As soon as they sat down, all four of them (yes, including the 13 year old girl) lit up their Camel unfiltered cigarettes. They smoked while they ordered and while they ate. It was all really gross to me.
But let's start a little before the puff-puff-take a bite portion of the meal. I walk up to the table and ask if they'd like to start with something to drink. "Well, hell yeah little missy, I say we'd like some drinks." "Okay...what can I get for you?" "Drinks, isn't that what you said you were going to get us?" *all laugh* *I stand there waiting for someone to actually order something, no one does* "Okay, well, if you're not ready I'll just get you some water." and I start to walk away, because seriously, I have no patience. The lady says, "Ignore them. I'll have a coke" The 13-year old chain smoker says, "I'll have Mountain Dew." I tell her we don't have Mountain Dew and she starts crying. Crying, over no Mountain Dew. The Lady says, "Just bring her a Sprite. That'll be okay" The little girl lights another cigarette and wipes her eyes. The guy on the left says, "I wanna beer." I ask what kind of beer. "The only kind of beer there should be. A cold one." I tell him what we have on tap...and he says, "Honey, if it's cold that's all I care about. Bring this son-of-a-bitch one, too." (the son-of-a-bitch being the guy on the right).
I start to walk away to get their drinks and guy on the left says, "Hold on, Missy. Ain't cha gonna take our order? We ain't here for our health ya know. We want some food, dammit." I come back and take their order which is all the same thing, "We need four of them roast beefs on bread. With smashed taters and so much gravy if my head fell into the plate I'd drown. Ya got that? Enough gravy to drown me in." Seriously, that's exactly what he said.
I bring out the drinks and hand the ladies straws for their soft drinks. Guy on the Right says, "Hows about some straws for our beers? We ain't good enough for straws? hahaha" I don't laugh, instead, I just walk away...and as I do Guy on the Left says, "Too bad she ain't got no damn sense of humor. I hate them stuck-up Mexicans think they're smart 'cause they know English."
I just ignored him.
When I brough out their food, the Guy on the Right says to the 13 year old chainsmoker, "And you better eat every fuckin' bite of that too. Ya hear me, every last fuckin' bite."
I come back half-way through their meal to see if they're okay...and they're having a burping contest.
I come back to drop off their check...and the young girl isn't done eating...she's the only one. I offer to take their plates and the Guy on the Right says to the young girl, "Are you eatin' anymore?" She starts crying again, and says, "I can't." The Lady tells me, "Just leave the plate, she'll finish it." So, I walk away...and from the bar I watch as the guy gets food on a fork and tries to make the young girl eat it, dropping it on her clothes and smearing gravy all over her face. I asked my manager to go over there and talk to them, and all he said is, "It's family business. I'm just gonna stay out of it. Just don't look if it bothers you."
And I'm really sad to say, that's what I did. I ignored it...but I didn't know what to say to them, they scared me a little. Though, I should've taken a chance to tell them off...considering they left a fifty cent tip.
Saturday
Table 11
Tonight was "Open-Mike Night". Which means people come in, hang out in the back room, sing and get drunk. It's a pretty good time. The whole point of my mentioning that is, the open-mic people were singing Secret Agent Man. Which is wonderfully fun song to sing. And I was singing it as I brought Table 11 their drinks.
I stopped singing, put their drinks down and was just opening my mouth to ask if they were ready to order when the girl said to me, "Whenever you're done singing I'd like a chocolate milkshake."
I really wanted to spit in her shake. Bitch.
Tonight was "Open-Mike Night". Which means people come in, hang out in the back room, sing and get drunk. It's a pretty good time. The whole point of my mentioning that is, the open-mic people were singing Secret Agent Man. Which is wonderfully fun song to sing. And I was singing it as I brought Table 11 their drinks.
I stopped singing, put their drinks down and was just opening my mouth to ask if they were ready to order when the girl said to me, "Whenever you're done singing I'd like a chocolate milkshake."
I really wanted to spit in her shake. Bitch.
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