Friday, June 11, 2010

Speak, don't point.

I had one of those tables last week who just don't like to communicate. It's apparently too difficult to say words like "chicken" and "salad", because this guy freaking grunted at me and said, "We'll both have that." He jabbed his finger squarely in to the picture of a salad.

"Okay, two (Fried Chicken With Sugar Dressing More Calories Than A Cheeseburger) Salads," I said very clearly. "Would either of you like some soup before dinner?"

They ignored me. Okay, whatever. Patio dwellers are usually giant pains in my ass, so I just continued on about my business. Ten minutes later, another server comes up to me with two salads and asks where they go. Grunt Man and his silent wife had said the salads weren't theirs--"we ordered pasta!"

Nothing galls me more than to have to apologize and kiss ass to the person who was actually at fault, but I did my best. They weren't satisfied, and bitched out the manager, and demanded free food and free dessert. They refused to make eye contact with me the rest of the time they were there, and they stiffed me.

Because, you know, I should be able to read minds--both when they order the wrong thing and when I repeat it and don't get corrected!


yellowcat413 said...

I've been burned too many times on that. Now I MAKE people tell me what they want.

Just the other night I had a pointer and grunter and I told him, "You need to SAY what you want. I can't tell what your finger is covering." Turns out he wanted the Baby Combo, yet he was pointing at the Rib Combo.

Also, they've probably figured out the "Eat for Free" routine. That shit doesn't fly with me.

purplegirl said...

Yeah, I usually make them speak too. Silly me, I thought since I repeated it I was safe. :) My scammer radar must've been off that day!

whiny Kat said...

Though it could be worse ~ my dad was a Grunting Man. Growing up under his regime was pretty horrendous, and there was never a tip. It's nice to be a grownup!

purplegirl said...

My dad used to be pretty terrible too--I remember him snapping his fingers and shouting across the restaurant "Garçon!" Luckily my mother eventually managed to teach him some manners.

Mary Sheehan Winn said...