Things have been pretty quiet around the restaurant for the last few days. No one is walking on eggshells, but two of us are a little more than resentful, so coworkers are avoiding us.
Even the customers are subdued, and there isn’t much to write about except for two things:
- A woman and her adult son came in right before closing, and she didn’t want to eat anything fried. I told her all of our meat (beef, chicken, pork and sausage) were not fried. She didn’t eat meat. I mentioned the HUGE salad bar, but told her, since it was closing time, she would have to load up before they tore it down. She didn’t like lettuce and salads. Well, fuck me then. She asked if the blackened catfish was fried. Oh, hell no. The catfish takes 25 minutes to cook and you’re not ordering that at 2 minutes before 8pm. I told her it was fried as well. So, she ordered the fish & chips (fried & fried), onion rings (fried) and Cole Slaw. Did I mention she was a complete smartass? Oh, yes she was. Her son tipped 20%, so I didn’t really care, but holy shit dude, muzzle your mom.
- Out of 30 kids on a bus I got the table which contained idiot boys and a bitchy girl. Thirty seconds after I handed out the drinks, two boys started goofing off and spilled a drink. I wanted to yell, “FOR FUCK SAKE! HOW OLD ARE YOU?!” These were high school kids, not elementary students. Instead, I pulled the towel off my belt and handed it to them. The bitchy girl huffed, “Aren’t YOU going to clean it up?” “Nope.” I’m your server not your fucking maid. Typically, when kids spill/spit in/tamper with drinks, they don’t get another. Go whine to your coach, and explain what you were doing to get punished. This time I brought another drink and gave them all the stink eye. In the middle of bringing the food out the bitchy girl demanded I take some dirty napkins off the table. I wash my hands before I handle people’s food, so I don’t like to grab gross stuff off a table in the middle of a food run, but since her food was all that was left to bring out, I happily took the dirty napkins off the table, and didn’t bother to stop and wash my hands. Enjoy the germs on your plate, you little snatch.
It’s Friday…only 2 more nights in my 14 day work week. The SW will be in tonight and we’ve developed a routine where she annoys the living fuck out of me when we’re busy, then when we slow down she tells me all her problems. Stick a fork in me.
PS: The SW is on a quest to promote the restaurant online. It is only a matter of time before she stumbles upon this blog. That would be a bad thing. I’m going to cover my tracks like a cat covering shit by removing all mention of my location from my past posts and tags. This may cause my old posts to show up again in your reader, and for that I apologize, but I don’t want to get canned for my written bad attitude; I would rather get canned for my in-person bad attitude.
Since I suck at making things up, I’ll hand out a prize to the person who comes up with the best name for a fictional city and state. Leave suggestions in the comments and I’ll put it to a vote. I live in a fictional democracy.