I swear to god there must be a freaking convention of fuck-faces in town, because we've been over-run all damn weekend. My section was full of jackasses Thursday night; Bulldog was just the worst of them. Friday was full of fun people too, although I can't really remember them specifically -- just lots of bad attitudes and less than 10% tips. One especially nice one was $3 on $57. Oh, and $4 on $78. Fuck you people.
Tonight it started all over again. The whole night sucked. Everyone was running around like crazy, shit was going wrong, customers were being dicks. I particularly enjoyed waiting on a coworker from my old restaurant, who left me $3 on $55. Bitch. Now I remember why I didn't like her back then.
Then there was the table of two who told me their appetizer tasted "weird" and when I asked how just told me it "didn't taste like the avocado dip we've had before." Uh, maybe that's because we don't have an avocado dip, we have a spinach dip. Dumbasses. Then they ordered a couple more beers, and when I delivered them (maybe four minutes later), the man heaved a big sigh and said, "Fine, I guess we'll take them, we just told your manager we didn't want them!" Well excuse the hell out of me for bringing what you ordered! I hadn't even had a chance to talk to PSM as he'd been snagged by another tables of complainers in the fifteen seconds since he left my table. PSM took the appetizer and the beers off their ticket; I didn't even look at what they tipped me, just jammed the cash in my pocket because I was pretty sure it'd just piss me off.
My most douchebaggy customers were also my first -- a big table. They weren't too high maintenance, but when they did need something, they were just plain rude. It started when the first woman showed up and told the hosts, "We'll have 10 for a birthday party. I'm going to go sit at our table." and proceeded to walk into the bar area and plop herself down at a random table. Right. When the time came to order dinner, a mullet-bearing older woman informed me she'd have the grilled cheese off the children's menu, and I wasn't to charge her for her soda because "it's included." The same woman made a lovely joke when someone ordered guacamole -- "ya'll know where gwack-ah-mole-ay comes from right? a cow's butt!" Charming.
That sort of crap continued throughout the meal. As some of them finished, I was talking to the impatient beer people; I then turned around to greet a new table, and yet another bitchy woman at the big table yelled, "HEY! Wait a minute!" Then she reached out like she was going to grab me. At that I was already standing at the other table, looking over my shoulder, but she didn't take the hint. "Can we get our tickets!"
"Sure, just a minute." I then turned back to my new table, who were all staring at the other woman in shock. That table was really cool, actually. Thank goodness for that.
I brought the ten of them their four separate tickets, and told each individual ticket-taker that I would be their cashier. Imagine my surprise when I returned to the table and found two of them with credit cards at the ready, and two of them gone. Grilled cheese bitch and "can we get our tickets" bitch had both planted themselves in the middle of the lobby and were thrusting money at the rather confused hosts. They told them they needed to pay their server, and Ticket Bitch's husband said, "Well, I'm not walking back to our table!" and sat down on the bench to freaking pout. Seriously? You're like 80, not 5!
Again, I didn't even look at my tip from any of them, I knew I'd just want to chase them outside with a steak knife.
But the Flaming Asshole Of The Day Award goes to someone not even in my section. A table of two was seated in the new girl's section -- it was her first shift working her own section, and she did pretty well! But she couldn't do anything about the wait in the lobby, the wait for their food, or the fact that the cooks sent out an improperly cooked steak. She's a nice girl, who has served before, and according to PSM she handled everything correctly.
But she still got a two dollar tip on a $40 tab. Shitty, but what pushes it over the edge is the little asterisk by the tip, and a note at the bottom of the ticket: "*AND YOU'RE LUCKY TO EVEN GET THAT."