Tuesday, March 8, 2011

That's not a flag.

My last table tonight should actually have gone to my closing coworker. I had taken two tables, then she got one; then while I was in the bathroom, a three came in. She greeted them and got their drinks, then sat another table (two middle-aged regulars) and informed me she was taking the second table! I tried to point out that they should be mine, but both tables could hear me so I gave up.

And it's no wonder she didn't want the table of three. They were late teens/early twenties, two girls and a guy. The guy looks slobby and had big bushy hair. Both the girls were in oversized hoodies and stocking caps. Yeah, they were gangsta. The real bitch at the table also had a hoop piercing in the center of her bottom lip. That's never a good sign -- in my book it's an official Bad Omen.

They took forever to decide what they wanted; when they finally ordered, the guy ordered a beer. Well, I got their food in, but I forgot the beer. I was sitting at a table on the other side of the bar, where I could see them and monitor their drink levels and still see in to the kitchen for their food. When it came out I took it to them right away, got them the two things they asked for, and then got the beer Lip Piercing reminded me I forgot about. I apologized, and the guy said "it's okay." Lip Piercing stared at me as if I were dog shit, including staring obviously at my gut. I mentally shrugged, asked how things were, and started cleaning my section -- which was on the other side of a waist-height rail from them, so I was always in eyesight and earshot.

When they were done, I got their boxes and gave them a check with three subtotals. Lip Piercing still wouldn't speak, but I just figured she was a bitch. (The guy, who was the only one I'd made any mistakes on his order, said please and thank you every time he spoke to me. the entire meal.) For the next five minutes they carefully added everything up, whispering to each other and giving me furtive glances. When Lip Piercing finally spoke to me on one of my trips by, I was completely unsurprised when she said, "Um, it took you until we got our food to get his beer!" and thrust the ticket at me. My gut feeling was that they didn't have enough money to pay for their bill. As politely as I could, I said I'd get the manager. So I took the three dollar beer off an returned the ticket.

For another ten minutes, I casually walked by checking other things every two minutes. They continued dissecting the bill, whispering and talking. The guy finally got his card out and had it sitting in front of him, but Lip Piercing had a death grip on the bill. On my four trip by the table, nothing had changed; I made eye contact with Lip Piercing, who stared at me blankly. Then as I continued by, she raised the bill up in the air -- now holding a credit card too -- and waved it slowly back and forth over her head, sneering at me!

I about lost it. It had been a slow night, and I knew that I wasn't going to make as much as I needed. I was already aggravated, and this little bitch was making me want to grip her by her lip ring and drag her out of the restaurant. I may be a fat waitress, but I am not beneath the contempt of some grunge-wannabe snotsack. But somehow I swallowed my bile, and didn't snap at her, "Put it on the edge of the table, I'm not a fucking mind reader." Instead I just took the two cards -- the guy said thank you -- and ran them -- and the guy said thank you again.

They sat there another ten minutes or so, and after they left I was unsurprised to see that the guy left me 10% -- which I deserved for forgetting his beer -- on his $12 ticket, and Lip Piercing, who paid for $30 of the bill, left me ... uh, zero. She also took her receipt, which has the district manager's direct phone number and email address. I'm hoping she's just a receipt-keeper, rather than someone who's going to write to the DM and get me in trouble for forgetting a beer!

I made $45 on a seven hour closing shift. Fucking slow nights.


pancake grrrl said...

I am occasionally pleasantly surprised when I profile my guests as far as conduct and the tip they will leave - but it doesn't happen often enough. The gangstas and the teenagers should have to do an internship at a restaurant before they get their driver's license!

Kari said...

Hi! I'm a big fan of your blog & I tagged you in 7 Facts award. If you want to play along, check it out here: http://knowitnotsomuch.blogspot.com/2011/03/lets-see-how-this-goes.html. Hope you're having a great week!

JoeinVegas said...

Note to self: remove piercings before entering restaurant. (oh well, she couldn't see that one anyway)

DMT said...

Its odd that people have genuine reasons for complaining never do but their asshole friends make it their business to do it for them. If I was that guy I;d be pissed off at ring girl for making a show of herself and me by association

SkippyMom said...

The guy seemed cool - she was just looking for an excuse not to tip. Too bad it wasn't her beer you forgot [which still doesn't deserve a 10%/no tip imo] so she ended up looking like a douchenozzle anyway.