It’s strange that it’s winter, we have nothing but locals in the restaurant now and I don’t have much of anything to bitch about. Winter was awful at the Harribalsac. The locals were awful, the money was awful, the dining room was freezing, but at least the flies were dead. I sit at the computer at night and realize I have nothing to say. It’s weird.
One newsworthy thing is The Neurotic is gone. She moved away at Halloween and I haven’t celebrated yet because I figured she’d be back by now. Saying something would jinx the calm I feel knowing I don’t have to see her. I didn’t realize how much she irritated me.
For example: Right before she left we had some deadbeat looking people wander in the Spaghetti Western. Pro Rodeo and I made fun of them and the tip The Neurotic was going to get. He went back to the office, I sat at the bar and had dinner before my shift. The Neurotic came up to the bar, looked at the check in her hand and said, “I asked if their check was local and they said yes, but it’s from Casper.” (A town about 3 hours away in the southern part of the state.) I said, “Well, they lied. You should go see if they have another form of payment.”
She stood at the register and contemplated what she should do for a couple of minutes. Remember, Pro Rodeo was back in the office. Then I noticed she was counting out change.
“Are you giving them change?!”
“Yes. They wrote the check for $50 over the amount.”
“Uh…I don’t know what the policy is here, but at the Harribalsac it was LOCAL checks only and for the amount of purchase plus tip ONLY. Unless they are leaving you a $50 tip, you better ask Pro Rodeo about it.”
Just then, the woman from the table came up to collect her change. She left a $10 tip (on a $100 ticket) and they all quickly left.
“You need to tell Pro Rodeo about this, but can you do it tomorrow because I’m off tomorrow and he’s going to lose his mind.”
She laughed and said it would be fine. Pro Rodeo trusts her judgement and blah, blah, blah.
Well, alrighty then.
A few minutes later I heard her telling him about it in the back dining room and I ran for cover in the kitchen. Al Quieda asked what I was doing and I said, “Hold on a minute, you’ll find out.” We cowered at the back of the kitchen while Pro Rodeo called the bank in Casper and learned the check was written on a closed account.
Pro Rodeo was yelling, The Neurotic was bawling and Al Quieda and I were hiding behind the pizza oven. In the end, The Neurotic had to pay for the check as a tough love sort of lesson. Did she learn? Hell no. She took another check for $70 from Casper less than a week later that was also written on a closed account. She got to pay for that one too.
That was one of the most irritating things about her. She couldn’t make a decision, never knew what to do, was always asking everyone what she should do, but when I told her she was going to get her ass reamed over a bad decision she decided to show me. You know, cuz I’m a dumbass. Somehow she just knew everything would turn out all right and Pro Rodeo would tell her how wonderful she was and she could gloat in my face that she was right and I was wrong. The problem is, I’m not wrong very often. I’ve been in business with the general public for way too long and I know con artists when I see them. I also know Pro Rodeo’s character and making a decision like that when he, as the OWNER, is sitting 10 feet away is ridiculous.