So I had a table last night of two middle-aged people. Their service was prompt, their drinks didn't empty until they were paying, they said their food was good. But they both ordered diet meals and water with lemon; I didn't see them speak to each other the entire time they were there; they wouldn't make eye contact with me; and just gave off a grumpy vibe.
Imagine my surprise when the husband took the time to write "zero" on the credit slip.
And then, after closing three nights this week, I had dreams all night about work. Damn!