My first table tonight was three younger people. Perfectly nice, if a lite abrupt. They chowed down and I gave them their ticket, informing them that I'd be their cashier. Then while they were fumbling with their wallets I stepped over to the table next to them to ask a question. Seconds later the first three filed by me, and one of them had a receipt and cash in his hand.
“Have a good night,” he said pleasantly as he walked by.
“Thank you! But actually you pay me.”
He looked down at the money in his hand and then at me. “But we're in a hurry.”
I don't remember what I said, but he didn't ask for a manager so it couldn't have been what I was thinking: “Oh, you're in a hurry? Well, then, why don't you just go right to the host stand and try to pay them with your hundred dollar bill. Maybe a cash register will magically appear just for you!” Freaking idiots.