OK, I'm sick of all ya rotten little creeps!
Business is pretty solid, and I'm quite thankful for it, but not quite so solid as to completely give up the part time gig.
Shit happens.
Last night pushed me closer to murdering 13 teenagers than I've ever gotten.
HOW, you say, can I get pushed like that?
You've obviously never been a waiter.
This group straggles in, a few at a time, and of course, being assigned to my section, I see many, many more desirable guests get seated elsewhere because these teenagers aren't on time. Kinda makes you a bit frustrated to see good tables with people that you know will tip well going to other sections.
I start off, "Hi! Welcome to Our Restaurant my name is...." and I just give up, because not one of the little punks has even deigned to notice me or acknowledge me in any way. "I know you've got some more people on the way, but can I get some drinks going for those of you that are here now?"
Maybe they're all deaf?
No, they're chattering like monkeys.
Ah, I see, I'mthe help. I'm not supposed to be noticed until the little buggers want something.
"Gimme a strawberry lemonade and some free fries!" "I want ranch with those!" "What do you have that's FREE?" "Get me a chocolate shake!"
Apparently the word please is not in their vocabulary.
They bellow and demand their food, treating me as if the Emancipation Proclamation has never been issued. Some have their drinks as they all came in at different times, and as I'm attempting to go over their order to make sure it's correct, the ones that have already placed their orders ignore me. They've already told the slave what they want, they have no more time for me. Even if I'm trying to ensure they get their order correctly. The ones with drinks loudly demand refills while I'm trying to get the last of the food orders, yelling over their friends, and all the while making as much noise as possible, because, when you are a 12-17 year old, the LOUDER you are, the more fun you're having.
Luckily, my kitchen staff is on top of their game!
Here comes the food!
My food runner asks "Who has the plain cheeseburger with cheddar?"
Whoops, he doesn't know he's the help, I jump to help him,
"That's MINE! Give it to me!"
"Well, I took your order, and you ordered something different"
"What is it?!?!?"
"This a cheeseburger with cheddar cheese that's plain."
"That's not mine."
Exactly, you moronic dipshit. You're 16, and you want your food NOW! Even if it isn't your food, you want it NOW!
We eventually get the cheeseburger to the right person, who, by the way, didn't speak up because she was texting. She wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else either.
"I wanted lettuce on this!"
Oooh, well, gosh, when I was reading your order back to you, maybe you could have PUT DOWN THE FUCKING CELL PHONE AND LISTENED TO ME????
You might have caught that.
Normally, I'm more than happy to make fixes if we mess up, not in this case, Miss Detached can jolly well not have any lettuce on her burger. The bitch is most likely going to go puke it up anyways. She's gotta be a size -4, no way in hell is she going to eat and digest all of that.
"Give me a strawberry lemonade refill!"
"You're drinking water, you didn't order a strawberry lemonade."
"Yeah, but she gets free refills! I want hers!"
"Well, the bottomless beverages are for one person only. if you're "taking over", that's um, stealing and trying to cheat the system."
"Oh, I didn't know."
Yeah, right, you little shit. You didn't know. I'll believe that just like Bush knew Saddam had nukes.
The meal continues, they scream, they yell, they demand, and then of course, they ALL have to have separate checks. Possibly maybe all chip in, save the server a little trouble? FUCK THAT. "I want my own check RIGHT NOW! I will not share with ANYONE!"
Well, here you go you little shits, here's your separate checks, all individualized for your pleasure.
"Can we split the onion rings over both of our checks?
"No, you cannot."
"Here, I'm paying for hers anyways."
THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NEED SEPARATE CHECKS?????????? Is it too much fucking trouble to say "Hers and mine go on the same check?"
OK, it looks like they're all paying cash. Swell.
"OK guys, if you're all paying cash, can I have whoever's got closest to exact change to pay first so I don't get wiped out on change?"
One girl opens her wallet to reveal at least 3000.00 in hundreds, a big old stack of them. She fumbles and finds a twenty. Her check is 14.36, OK, not too horrible, and the guy next to her hands me a FUCKING FIFTY. His check is 4.60. Now, this little group of darlings is not going to stiff me,, oh noooo, they'll be more than happy to leave me with bits of change, but can they TELL ME?
Why the hell would they do that?
It might make my job easier.
Every single time I pay cash for anything at a restaurant, I'll say "give me five back" or whatever so the server doesn't have to make perfect change just to have me give it back to them. One of them hands me 11.00 for a check that is 11.49, but tells me her friend is going to give me 12.00 for a check that is 11.59, and I can keep the difference. Except you still owe me money, you stupid bitch. Perhaps when you were texting your little fingers off, you might have used the calculator on your phone? Or been born with a brain that can handle simple math?
I get them all sorted out and with one guy to go, the little prick has been busy, he has folded up his 20 along with his check into this intricate, interlocking folding design that is no bigger than a thumbtack.
"Here you go!" he says with a smirk. "Enjoy your money!"
I lose it.
"Well, gosh, it's been sooo much fun being yelled at by you kids all night, and then you top off the meal by treating me like this. It makes my job so much easier when punks like you who have never earned a dime in your miserable little lives treat working people like shit. Your mommy and daddy have given you anything you've ever wanted, and you can't even treat your fellow human beings with the slightest respect because you're all a bunch of greedy, self centered jerks. Thank you so much for coming in!"
They shuffle out, on their way to the movies, I'm attempting to cool off outside the back door. They WISELY avoid me.
This is the future of our nation?
These kids?
We are soooooo fucked.
Shit happens.
Last night pushed me closer to murdering 13 teenagers than I've ever gotten.
HOW, you say, can I get pushed like that?
You've obviously never been a waiter.
This group straggles in, a few at a time, and of course, being assigned to my section, I see many, many more desirable guests get seated elsewhere because these teenagers aren't on time. Kinda makes you a bit frustrated to see good tables with people that you know will tip well going to other sections.
I start off, "Hi! Welcome to Our Restaurant my name is...." and I just give up, because not one of the little punks has even deigned to notice me or acknowledge me in any way. "I know you've got some more people on the way, but can I get some drinks going for those of you that are here now?"
Maybe they're all deaf?
No, they're chattering like monkeys.
Ah, I see, I'mthe help. I'm not supposed to be noticed until the little buggers want something.
"Gimme a strawberry lemonade and some free fries!" "I want ranch with those!" "What do you have that's FREE?" "Get me a chocolate shake!"
Apparently the word please is not in their vocabulary.
They bellow and demand their food, treating me as if the Emancipation Proclamation has never been issued. Some have their drinks as they all came in at different times, and as I'm attempting to go over their order to make sure it's correct, the ones that have already placed their orders ignore me. They've already told the slave what they want, they have no more time for me. Even if I'm trying to ensure they get their order correctly. The ones with drinks loudly demand refills while I'm trying to get the last of the food orders, yelling over their friends, and all the while making as much noise as possible, because, when you are a 12-17 year old, the LOUDER you are, the more fun you're having.
Luckily, my kitchen staff is on top of their game!
Here comes the food!
My food runner asks "Who has the plain cheeseburger with cheddar?"
Whoops, he doesn't know he's the help, I jump to help him,
"That's MINE! Give it to me!"
"Well, I took your order, and you ordered something different"
"What is it?!?!?"
"This a cheeseburger with cheddar cheese that's plain."
"That's not mine."
Exactly, you moronic dipshit. You're 16, and you want your food NOW! Even if it isn't your food, you want it NOW!
We eventually get the cheeseburger to the right person, who, by the way, didn't speak up because she was texting. She wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else either.
"I wanted lettuce on this!"
Oooh, well, gosh, when I was reading your order back to you, maybe you could have PUT DOWN THE FUCKING CELL PHONE AND LISTENED TO ME????
You might have caught that.
Normally, I'm more than happy to make fixes if we mess up, not in this case, Miss Detached can jolly well not have any lettuce on her burger. The bitch is most likely going to go puke it up anyways. She's gotta be a size -4, no way in hell is she going to eat and digest all of that.
"Give me a strawberry lemonade refill!"
"You're drinking water, you didn't order a strawberry lemonade."
"Yeah, but she gets free refills! I want hers!"
"Well, the bottomless beverages are for one person only. if you're "taking over", that's um, stealing and trying to cheat the system."
"Oh, I didn't know."
Yeah, right, you little shit. You didn't know. I'll believe that just like Bush knew Saddam had nukes.
The meal continues, they scream, they yell, they demand, and then of course, they ALL have to have separate checks. Possibly maybe all chip in, save the server a little trouble? FUCK THAT. "I want my own check RIGHT NOW! I will not share with ANYONE!"
Well, here you go you little shits, here's your separate checks, all individualized for your pleasure.
"Can we split the onion rings over both of our checks?
"No, you cannot."
"Here, I'm paying for hers anyways."
THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NEED SEPARATE CHECKS?????????? Is it too much fucking trouble to say "Hers and mine go on the same check?"
OK, it looks like they're all paying cash. Swell.
"OK guys, if you're all paying cash, can I have whoever's got closest to exact change to pay first so I don't get wiped out on change?"
One girl opens her wallet to reveal at least 3000.00 in hundreds, a big old stack of them. She fumbles and finds a twenty. Her check is 14.36, OK, not too horrible, and the guy next to her hands me a FUCKING FIFTY. His check is 4.60. Now, this little group of darlings is not going to stiff me,, oh noooo, they'll be more than happy to leave me with bits of change, but can they TELL ME?
Why the hell would they do that?
It might make my job easier.
Every single time I pay cash for anything at a restaurant, I'll say "give me five back" or whatever so the server doesn't have to make perfect change just to have me give it back to them. One of them hands me 11.00 for a check that is 11.49, but tells me her friend is going to give me 12.00 for a check that is 11.59, and I can keep the difference. Except you still owe me money, you stupid bitch. Perhaps when you were texting your little fingers off, you might have used the calculator on your phone? Or been born with a brain that can handle simple math?
I get them all sorted out and with one guy to go, the little prick has been busy, he has folded up his 20 along with his check into this intricate, interlocking folding design that is no bigger than a thumbtack.
"Here you go!" he says with a smirk. "Enjoy your money!"
I lose it.
"Well, gosh, it's been sooo much fun being yelled at by you kids all night, and then you top off the meal by treating me like this. It makes my job so much easier when punks like you who have never earned a dime in your miserable little lives treat working people like shit. Your mommy and daddy have given you anything you've ever wanted, and you can't even treat your fellow human beings with the slightest respect because you're all a bunch of greedy, self centered jerks. Thank you so much for coming in!"
They shuffle out, on their way to the movies, I'm attempting to cool off outside the back door. They WISELY avoid me.
This is the future of our nation?
These kids?
We are soooooo fucked.