Food Gets Cold, Dipshit.

January 25, 2007

Sometimes I am in utter astonishment over the incompetence of some people. It’s as if they walk into a restaurant and all common sense and simple knowledge just flies out the window.

Take last night for example. I’m serving a party of four and two of the people order food from the kitchen and two order sushi from the sushi bar. It’s busy, so it’s next to impossible to time it out to where they get their food at the exact same time, but I’m a decent enough waiter to where I can get the four dinners out within ten or so minutes of one another.

“Ten or so minutes” is obviously too long for some people. Particularly, old people. Hey, I understand…you’ve only got so long to live and you need SUSHI in those precious twilight years!

And I knew they’d be like this, so I explained ahead of time: “Alright…just so you know, the sushi chef and kitchen staff are very busy, so the dinners may not come out at exactly the right time, but I’ll try my best to have it so you get them within a few minutes of one another.”

I was greeted with the same scowles and frowns I would have received had I told them Murder She Wrote was off the air.

The kitchen staff gets the dinners done first so I rush to the back, get the dinners (with steam still rising from the freshly-cooked food) and take them to the four geriatrics at Table 9.

Grandma 1: “What is this?”
Me: “Um…Steak and Scallops…I believe it’s…”
Grandma 1: “Why are we getting ours before them?”
Me: “Well, you see…the sushi chef is making theirs right now. It should only be another ten…”
Grandma 1: “Take this away and DON’T bring it back out until THEIRS is ready.”
Me: “But, ma’am…the food will get c…”
Grandma 1: “No excuses!”

What is it with old people and the phrase “No excuses”?

Whatever. She wants her food cold…let her have it cold. The sushi gets done a mere NINE MINUTES LATER and I go to bring out the sushi and the dinners at the same time. This does not sit well with the brontosaurus of a woman on my right.

Grandma 1: “This food is LUKEWARM! I demand an explanation!”
Me: “You told me to put it in the back until they got their sushi.”
Grandma 1: “But why isn’t it hot?”
Me: “Because…that’s what…uh…food does?”
Grandma 2: “My sushi’s fine, Evelynn.”
Grandpa 1: “So’s my filet.”
Grandpa 2: “Can I have some chopsticks?”

Dammit.

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Yea, I Love Getting In Trouble, Lady. Really, I Do.

January 20, 2007

Last night, an older couple came into my restaurant and ordered some sushi. The woman just wanted some soup and salad. That’s cool. We weren’t busy and I could care less.

A few minutes after bringing the soup, the lady was done and asked if she could have another one. A few minutes later she asked again for another one. Then, when the guy was done with his meal, she asked for one to go. Ma’am, it’s just chicken broth and some french onion bits. You can make it yourself for less money than four soups at our place.

When I gave them the check, she grabbed me by the arm and asked “I thought you said you were going to give me some soup.”

Me: (pointing at empty soup bowls and to-go soup) “Umm…I did?”
Her: “No. I thought you were going to give them to me.”
Me: “I don’t think that’s how restaurants work, ma’am.”
Her: “Well, you’re just a smart-ass, aren’t you?”
Me: “You can take it up with my manager if you feel you weren’t treated fairly.”
Her: “Maybe I will.”
Me: “Okay, I’ll go get her for y..”
Her: (interrupting) “No, no, no. Don’t do that! I’ll just pay the damn bill.”

Sorry, ma’am. I know how confusing today’s world is compared to your freeloading generation of decades ago where young people could get soup in restaurants and not pay for it. I blame making old people pay for the food THEY ASKED FOR IN THE FIRST PLACE on the degradation of society as a whole.

P.S. Yes, ma’am. I agree that I should go to Hell for making you pay for the food you ate at our restaurant.


What’s So Special About HER Soup?

January 5, 2007

So I have this massive twenty-person party at rush hour (6pm-7pm) and I’m having to rush the soups and salads out to the people as fast as I can just so the chef doesn’t get to the table and I don’t have all the pre-meals out yet.

As I’m handing out one of the last soups, a woman in her older 60’s tells me point-blank that she doesn’t “want the soup [I] gave [her].” She wants “the soup you gave the woman in the blue”.

What? Is she serious? I wouldn’t even let a first-grader slide about shit like that. So I calmly ask her what’s wrong with her soup and if I can get her a new one. Her response? “Whatever.”

Whatever? WhatEVER?! Bitch, you haven’t been a teenager for decades and you’re about to tell me whatever? Screw you and screw your blue blouse.


That Wouldn’t Hurt As Much As A Knife, Ma’am.

December 20, 2006

Monday night, I was first to get a table and was seated a very polite family of four and an eccentric senior citizen couple. Everything was going according to plan until the chef was out there for a few minutes. The woman was looking around the restaurant and finally caught my eye. So, I figured she needed something. I go over and say, “Oh, ma’am…do you need anything?” She gave me a confused look so I explain that I noticed she was looking around the restaurant.

Her: “If you come over to my table again, I’m going to run you through with my fork.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Her: “…”
Me: “Was that a joke?” Then I look at her husband and ask “Is she joking?”
Him: “…”
Me: “Okay, sorry about checking on you. I’m just your waiter.”

Run me through with a fork? I’ve heard of people getting upset that I wasn’t able to check up on them enough, but who goes ape-shit about their SERVER WANTING TO SERVE THEM?

Mr. Fireman, if you put out the fire in my house, I’m going to run you through with this fork.

Mr. Mailman, if you deliver my mail one more time, I’m going to run you through with this fork.

Mr. Server, if you try to check up on me one more time, I’m going to PHYSICALLY FUCKING ASSAULT YOU WITH THE FORK THAT YOU COINCIDENTALLY FRICKING SERVED ME.

The guy still tipped me 18%. Kind of makes me wonder how much more he’d have tipped me had I not…you know…served them.


You Were A Server?

December 18, 2006

These two couples come in and are loud as hell as they come through the front door. As Karma would have it, it’s my turn in the rotation.

Me: “Would you guys like some sushi menus with your meals?”
Guy 1: “Does it LOOK like we want some sushi?”

This was, of course, the funniest thing in the world to the four of them.

Me: “Uh…is this a trick question?
All of them: “Hahahahahahahahahaha!”
Me: “So…yes?”
All of them: “Hahahahahahahahahaha!”
Me: “…”
All of them: “…”
Me: “I’ll give you a couple just in case.”
All of them: “Hahahahahahahahahaha!”

Firstly, screw the four of you. I don’t care if you created the cure for polio, you’re a bunch of douchebags to me.

Secondly, since when is a waiter’s confusion the punchline to a joke? “To get to the other side” and “Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?” are punchlines…not “I don’t know whether or not you guys want sushi”.

So the four of them sit and I know right away that the women are going to want at least three drinks because they’re 1) women, 2) Jewish-looking and 3) women.

Woman 1: “I’ll have a glass of red wine and a glass of water.”
(Wait for it)
Woman 1: “…and a Purple Geisha specialty drink! Hahahahahahaha!”
Woman 2: “You are too much tonight, Ruth. I’ll have the same! Hahahahahahaha!”

Again, I don’t get the frickin’ joke.

Guy 1: “I’ll have a Budweiser and a glass…hold the sushi!”
All of them: “Hahahahahahahaha!”

Dammit.

Their entire meal was a replay of the following few paragraphs with appetizers, entrees and desserts substituted where the drink orders were. Everything was also as funny as an episode of “I Love Lucy” to them and “Matlock” to me. Fuck Matlock.

At the end of the meal, I went to go collect their checks. They left cash in the booklets (with change, those cheap geriatrics) and said the following:

Guy 2: “We were all servers growing up so we put a little extra in there for you.”
Woman 1: “Thanks so much!”
Woman 2: “Thank you!”

Between the four of them, they left me a grand total of $6.00. Their meal was over $80. I was pissed and did something I’d never done and will probably never do again. I took the change, went back to the table, sat the change on the table and said:

Me: “Here’s your change.”
Woman 1: “Oh, that’s for…”
Me: “Keep it.”
Woman 1: “But I don’t th…”
Me: “Keep it.”
All of them: “…”
Me: “Have a great night.”

Screw them. I don’t want them thinking their 6% tip would make me feel better, making THEM feel good in the process.

And yes, the looks on their faces was WELL worth the six bucks.


Do You Want It Room Temperature Or Not?

December 1, 2006

This story was told to me by my roommate Mike last night. He writes and runs one of the links to the right (www.ieatpeople.com). Check him out.

He was telling me about how he was serving this table of women a few years back and one of them asked for “room temperature water but with frozen ice in it”.

Mike: “Uh…so…room temperature water…with COLD ice?”
Her: “Yes. Make sure that water is ROOM TEMPERATURE.”

He then looked her straight in the eye and just poured the water from the pitcher he was holding in his hand.

Her: “Wha wha wha?! What are you doing? This isn’t room temperature water!”
Mike: “Well…I mean…the ice is going to make the water turn this way in just a few…”
Her: “I want to speak to the manager RIGHT. NOW.”
The Manager: “Is there a problem?”
Her: “Yes. I asked for room temperature water with ice.”
The Manager: “Umm…uh…ma’am, the ice is going to make the water…”
Her: “Whatever!”

It’s surprising the woman didn’t want her food cooked at room temperature and then heated up in the microwave for a few minutes. What is it with old women and physics?


The Glass Isn’t Empty, Lady.

November 27, 2006

Don’t all of you servers hate it when you’re running around and some fatass lady thinks that her glass of sweet tea isn’t full enough and wants you to get her a brand-new one when she damn well knows that glass is about as full as it can get.

Last week, I had a woman complain that she had been sitting at her table with an empty glass for 15 minutes and demanded that I “get her a brand new glass of sweet tea this instant!”

Here’s a diagram to show you just how “empty” her glass was:

glass_full

This is no exaggeration. The bitch’s glass was over 80% full. When I explained to her that whenever I would walk by, I saw an empty glass and didn’t think she needed a new drink she said, verbatim:

“Well, I just figured you could read my mind.”

If that’s not the definition of an idiot, I don’t know what is.