Jesus Christ, Helmet Hair came in again! She was with her daughter and her son-in-law again, too. And once again, she charged through the door and past the hostess—I was up there talking to her at that point, and the bitch took one step inside the door, turned on her heel, and went to plop her ass down wherever she wanted.
I refused to wait on them—or acknowledge them at all, despite Helmet giving me nasty looks periodically. One of the two other servers took the bitch, because she recognized her as a frequent day time customer. She later told me that the woman always finds something to complain about—her potatoes are too cold, her drink is too warm, the sun is too bright, etc.
Her table won trivia, too, which irritated me. I'm hoping they lose every single round of bingo again this week. I might have to facilitate that, she's getting on my nerves so much.