Two weeks in a row, I had a horrible family of regulars. The embodiment of every stereotype about white trash. They are loud, have horrible table manners and misbehaved children, and are an assault on the eyes.
The same table of regulars I saw out at another restaurant and told their waitress not to break her back because she would get ten percent, if she's lucky.
Last week and this week they have gotten ten percent service. I don't smile, I don't check back more than necessary, I ignored eye contact. I won't waste my time on proven assholes when I have perfectly nice customers at other tables.
This did not please them. When I come by to drop off their food and the little girl is hanging off the edge of the booth kicking her feet, I scold, "Food's here, don't trip me!" The middle-aged son (?) says something with a scowl - "I was about to trip you a few times!" I ignore it. I'm obligated to acknowledge their empty glasses, and he says "FINALLY." I shrug.
Monday nights, we have no busboy. So after they had gotten up to pay, but before I had a chance to bus the table, I saw my seven percent on the table. After bussing it and seeing no three dollars, I asked around. Did anyone pick it up by accident? Did anyone see anything?
Our hostess was convinced one of them went back and took it. I can live without the tip, I probably didn't deserve it for the service you received. But you should be ashamed of yourselves, for so many reasons.