Some people from the shitty little town I live in came to the Spaghetti Western last night. I hate waiting on people I know from here because they think since they know me they can run my ass off for every extra possible and tip 3-5%. I’m supposed to be flattered that they came to where I work. Guess again.
So when I saw these two I groaned. When I heard they were with a party of 10 I relaxed a little, but I still considered giving them up because I seriously don’t like them and the feeling is pretty mutual. Their son-in-law is loaded, I mean really, really loaded. He’s the heir to a large soft drink fortune, but as Pro Rodeo said, “he doesn’t look smart enough to pour piss out of a boot.” He isn’t.
Dinner went very well. Pro Rodeo & his wife (still don’t have a nickname for her) backed me up and the table didn’t lack for service in any way. When the father-in-law requested the ticket, I ignored him and sold desserts, which added another $5 to the auto grat. Then I took the ticket to him and sweetly told him that the computer automatically adds an 18% gratuity to the ticket for parties of 6 or more. He was PISSED. He was more PISSED when he saw the auto-grat was $50.
Left on their own, these two usually tip 12-15%, which still would have been a pretty large tip, but I wasn’t taking any chances since we don’t like each other. I figured if one of us was going to be pissed about the tip, I’d rather it be him.