I’m just about out of patience.
Tonight was pretty busy and there were a couple of times I was so deep in the weeds I had stickers in my shorts. Things started to calm down about 30 minutes before we closed. Then Dani and I got two tables each within 15 minutes of closing. My last table was a 4 top with only 2 people there. It was 6 minutes before close, so I POLITELY told the two guys that their party needed to arrive before 9 or the kitchen would close. They were under the impression they could hold the table and wait 20 minutes or so for the rest of their party to arrive. Lucky for them, the rest of their party arrived right at 9. Fuckers.
They knew we were closed when they ordered. The young woman just couldn’t make up her mind. Her boyfriend read almost every single item on the menu to her.
“Do you want a steak?”
“Do you want fish and chips?”
“Do you…” want your server to punch you in the throat?
Finally, he said, “Well, I guess you’re not getting anything.”
This took 5 complete minutes.
They got their food, ate, had more beers, and talked. At 40 minutes after 9, I went to their table to give them their check.
“What do you have for dessert?” Oh fuck me.
I told him and he asked, “So, are you closed? Should we leave or should I order a dessert?” Yes, you moron, we are closed. You knew we were closed when you sat down. And how the fuck should I answer your question? No, I don’t want you to order dessert. I want you to get the hell out, but if I tell you that you’ll run to the owner and tell him I was a big meanie.
I put on my smile and said the choice was his. I would make a dessert if he wanted one or he could leave if he didn’t. Naturally, he ordered the dessert. And they sat there for another 20 minutes.
The ticket total was just over $55. My tip was $5.
Fuck you very much.