Thanks for nothing.

I haven't made much the last couple of weeks, but that's largely been a result of slow business. St. Patrick's Day night was particularly bad -- we're just not the place people go for their green beer. Most of the tips have been average -- I haven't had a stellar one in a while. But of course, there are always the people who have to be utter douchebags.

Yeah, kind of like this.

The first, it was no surprise to get no tip. A couple, barely 21; he was your typical jock type. She was average looking (not a slam, I'm average looking), but trying really hard to look like a hot chick. She was so thin her cheekbones were jutting through her skin and her eyes were bulging. She was tanned an unnatural orange-ish color, and her hair was bleached nearly white, then carefully styled to look like it was casually loose and messy. She was wearing way too much dark eyeliner and mascara, and her lipstick was a completely wrong shade for her skin. And she had the attitude you would expect to go along with all this -- she sent a Long Island back because "it doesn't taste anything like a Long Island!" I don't know where you've been drinking, little girl, but that is a fucking Long Island. I replaced it with her requested double screwdriver, and the rest of their meal was smooth (well, his meal, she wasn't eating. Surprise!). His card paid, but the handwriting on the slip looked distinctly feminine, and I was totally unsurprised to receive exactly nothing for a tip.

At the same time I had an average family of five. Three teenaged daughters, driving their two parents crazy. Typical for my restaurant. The mother did most of the talking, but they were all polite and nice enough. Their food came out quickly, they told me everything as great. One of the girls dropped her cell phone under the table and crawled underneath to retrieve it, complaining about how dark it was. Yes, under the table. But instead of pointing out we don't light the gum-riddled underside of tables, I offered my cell phone with the flashlight app to help her out. Mom thought that was sweet. They didn't have dessert; the girl with the phone hadn't eaten any of her $13 meal and asked for a box. When I came back with the box, the dad handed me $90 and said they didn't need change. Their bill was $86.45. Fuck. You. I got a bit of satisfaction from throwing away the daughter's uneaten, forgotten meal.

Then there were the $5 on $65 people -- and they got a free steak because they complained about it after eating it. And tonight's $7 on $76 for absolutely waiting on four people hand and foot for two hours during the dinner rush. I could go on but it just gets depressing.