Thursday, January 20, 2011

Lapdog's got my back.

I'm as surprised as you are!

I wrote last week about the teenagers who left $3 on $80. It was late when I wrote that, and I forgot to mention what happened after they left. I was scraping up the soupy mess they'd left on the table when Lapdog came over and started helping.

"This is why we need auto-grat, Lapdog." I grumbled.
He looked up at me. "Didn't tip you?"
"Three bucks on eighty." I shrugged.
"Did they pay cash? We can void off some of their drinks."
I about dropped dead from shock! "Oh, they all had water and I already closed it. But thank you!"

This weekend, I had a family of six that I had a good time with. They had three daughters, one who was a teenager and seemed to take a shine to me -- she talked to me more than the parents, and they weren't quiet. They had a perfect experience, no empty drinks, no delaying or incorrect food, etc. They told me everything was delicious; they told Lapdog everything was great; they told HotPants their food was awesome. Their tab came to $73, so I was hoping for a nice 20% tip.

My first inkling of oddness came when the mother and the three daughters left before I brought the bill. I delivered a drink to them, went in to the kitchen for a box, came out, and they were gone. It just seemed strange to me, and in retrospect I think they were preparing for a quick get-away! As I set the bill down, the little boy ducked under the table, announcing he was going to the bathroom. Daddy didn't look pleased, but let him go. I gave him the bill, and while he fumbled with his cash I attended to another table. He put the cash on the table, and I picked it up with my usual "I'll be right back with your change!" He responded he didn't need it, and I wished him good evening with a smile.

That smile died when I got to the back. Ticket of $73.25, and he had put down $74. Irritated, I stomped back out front just in time to see the little boy coming out of the bathroom, and HotPants up by the front door. I high-tailed it to the front door.
Bet HotPants wears these under
his triple-pleated slacks.

"HotPants!" I hissed. "They guy who's coming up here with his son, talk to him. He stiffed me, there might have been something wrong."
HotPants blinked at me intelligently and pointed. "That guy?"
"Yes!" I hurried away so it wouldn't be obvious. HotPants came and told me later that the customer told him everything was 'excellent' but the guy seemed drunk. I didn't get that impression, but the dad was the quieter one at the table so maybe.

I continued being irritated for about ten minutes; honestly it had ruined my night which had been going so well! I know I shouldn't let one table affect me, but damn, that was a big chunk of my sales for my night! So I was moping a bit, and Accent Girl suggested (without an accent!) that I ask HotPants to do a discount on it. I was fairly sure he wouldn't be receptive, because he's a dick, but I hit him up for it -- I asked if we could pretend they were seniors.

He didn't even fucking answer me! Just kind of grunted, cocked his head at me, then started twiddling his pen and staring off into the distance. Fuck you, man! I finally said, "If it's not cool, that's fine." and stomped off. When Accent Girl asked about it, I told her his response. "Try Lapdog! He might, he does it sometimes!"

That was a damn good point. He was in a great mood that night. so I gave it a try.

"Hey Lapdog, remember last week when you were going to help me out with that table of teenagers?" He just looked at me. "Any chance of that now? Table ten stiffed me and they told HotPants twice that everything was great!"

He laughed and went to the computer. "Yeah, they told me everything was great too."
"Maybe they just don't believe in tipping," I said.
After tapping a few buttons and swiping his card, he said, "She didn't like the sauce on her ribs tonight, didn't think it was sweet enough."
I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "She never told me that! Not any of the times I was there!"
"She didn't tell me that either," he said with a smirk.
"Oh." I felt stupid. "Thanks!"

So at least I got 12%, thanks to Lapdog. He gave me my regular shifts again this coming week too! His wife must be putting out again, I'm sure he'll be back to his usual surly self before too long.


The Restaurant Manager said...

That is a bad ass manager! Very cool of him to hook you up like that!

purplegirl said...

Rarely happens -- he must have felt sorry for me. :)