"Duuuude" update.

Four of the six stoners came in again last night, and sat in another server's section.
Two came in first that I didn't recognize. Then the two guys, one of which had paid came in to meet them. I raised my eyebrow and waited for them to say something.
"Uh.. we're... uh... meeting someone."
Good, they looked guilty. I pointed to where the other two were.

I chased the server down. "M, those are the ones that left me 2 on 50 last week, so don't bust your ass."
"Oh, I know, two of them ordered appetizers and two aren't ordering because they just came from McDonald's."

Good Lord.
Lucky for her, one of the girls paid and gave her four bucks, which was maybe 20%.
I know it wasn't the service - M and I have been there the same amount of time, have a very similar sense of humor and service, and her regulars and my regulars are interchangeable. So, yes, that guy was just an asshole. Or, as M would say, a dickwrinkle.

I had to call out sick tonight..

For the second time in my five years at the diner.
The first was strep about three years ago, when I literally had no voice.

Today, it's some sort of stomach bug. I thought I would make it, but had to pull over on the way in. Although I've often considered it, I don't think vomiting on a customer would be good for business.

It got me thinking about how sucky it is to get sick when you're in the service industry. Many people will slug through a shift, contagious or not, because they can't afford to lose the money. People have to come in last-minute to cover you, and then you owe a favor. I just hope to Saint Martha I can make it in tomorrow.

"Duuuuuuude."

I had a very bad table last night. Very bad. First time at my diner I've waited on the stereotypical drunk/high/otherwise fucked up table of teens.

They were nice, seemingly polite... ordered a LOT of food. Double orders of french toast, cheese steaks with honey mustard and barbecue, etc. One kid couldn't figure out how to use a menu.
Choice quotes I heard while ordering:
"You've already had enough to drink today."
"Duuuuuude. You are so fucking lit right now." (Apparently that means high. I am a bad young person because I had to urban dictionary it.)

They didn't seem too goofy. No red eyes, no stumbling. Maybe a little excessive giggling, but what do you expect from a table of teens?

Anyway, fifty dollar check. I'm hoping for ten bucks, expecting five. They pay and basically run out the door. I would have too if I were them - two dollars.

If you can live with it, I can live without it.

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.

In other news..

So, reading my local paper today, I found an item in the police blotter that interested me.
I won't link it, because it would give away my location. But a restaurant on the same highway as my diner, within ten minutes walking distance from my home, where I had a lovely dinner just three days before, was featured.

Apparently, a trio of young women (late teens) were dining at the establishment. They attempted to beat feet without footing the bill. Their server ran out to the parking lot to catch them. In their hasty retreat, they struck the waitress with their car. I hear she was fairly okay - except for the trauma of being hit by a fucking car and stiffed on the tip. Luckily, she was able to get a partial license plate and the ladies were arrested. Unluckily, they have already been let out on probation pending the court date.

I don't know the lengths I would go to avoid a dine-and-dash, but if I get hit by a car, I'm out.

My first thought was, "these girls are younger than me! I'd love to meet their parents!"

I know times are hard...

But for the past couple months, I've gotten stiffed once at least every other shift. And it's ALWAYS the people who you don't expect!
I had two young girls, maybe a few years younger than me, and I talked, laughed, and joked with them. No tip.
Last night, it was an older couple. I gave them menu recommendations and lots of attention. They seemed happy with their meal, although they were a little... apathetic, or lethargic, or something. No tip.

Is anyone else experiencing a higher instance of stiffs lately?

Ah, something blogworthy.

So Satan graced me with his presence tonight, and the only thing that got me through the hour he was in my station was the fact that I finally had something to write about... and the bottle of vodka in my pantry.

A "gentleman" came in this afternoon when I was the only one on the floor, with his girlfriend and her son (who I originally thought was a girl thanks to his long long locks and feminine features).
I knew I was in for a good time when I greeted the table.
"Hi, how are you guys today? What can I get you to drink?"
"HA! What I want is another waitress! I hate blondes... especially dumb ones."

Obviously thought he was just busting my chops, but... oh hell no.
"Well, sir, you'll have to wait in the car while your family has dinner, because I'm the only one here."
His dining companions continually laughed at my comebacks, but I was amazed she would let him talk to me like that. Especially after she commented that she used to work in a diner for 18 years!
I let them sit for ten minutes.
"Are you ready to behave, or do you want to wait another ten minutes for the brunette waitress' shift to start?"

As I'm taking his family's order, he starts toying with the bottom of my apron.
"Uhm.. there's nothing under there for you!"
"Clearly nothing for anybody, you're too skinny!"

Fine. I continue taking the order. He asks if I have a boyfriend. I relish this opportunity to tell him yes, I have a 250 lb. boyfriend fresh out of the Army. He was unfazed.

As I'm waiting for their food, checking on my other customers, talking to my coworkers, etc. He continually hollers across the restaurant to comment on the things I'm saying. I ignore him.

I bring his girlfriend the coffee she requested. He commented on the wait time and asked where his was.
"Well, sir, you were too busy calling me a dumb blonde to request anything other than water."
He threatened to throw ICE down my SHIRT. If this were a more corporate restaurant, I believe I could have had him kicked out for the harassment I was enduring. Unfortunately, they "know the owner" and we must bend for regulars.

As I'm bringing the food, he decides it's time to tell me that for Christmas, I should have asked my boyfriend to bring me a butt. Another "too skinny" reference.

Many more comments and inappropriate questions ensue, too much to even remember at this point (again, thank you, vodka). Finally, they leave my station, with a 25% tip... they would have had to double that to even begin to make up for his behavior.

When people act like this, I used to be so taken aback I couldn't say a word. At this point, I've come up with quicker reflexes and better comebacks, which are probably only feeding into the sick pleasure they get from torturing poor waitresses.

Fortunately, the rest of my night went very smoothly. Le sigh.

Fool me once..

I have a system with bad tippers. I get ten percent the first time around, I will remember your smelly hillbilly face. The next time you come in and I wait on you, you will get the best service your redneck ass has ever gotten. Refills of "pessi"and "swate tay" will flow like rain. You will get mounds and mounds of your sacred mayonnaise and ranch dressing. But when you give me another five dollar bill on your forty-nine dollar check, I will remember your face again.
I will remember your face so next time you grace my station with your stench, you will go thirsty. You will have to come up and find me for more napkins. You will get ten percent or less of my service to go with your terrible tip. I gave you a second chance.

So, work kind of sucked tonight!

Sometimes, you joke with the wrong people.

I made a funny tonight. I made myself and the other servers laugh immensely, but crazy cook I've written about before (We'll call him, "Mumbles") apparently lacks a sense of humour as well as a sense of personal hygiene or normal social interaction.

I ordered a grilled cheese with bacon. Simple, right? I wrote "grill chs, bacon, on wheat." (We use handwritten checks/dupes if I haven't mentioned it before)
My grilled cheese came up sans bake-on, (That 70s Show, anyone?) and I gave it back, asking for the meat to be added. When it came back up, I said, "Wait a minute! Is this bacon? I don't want bacon!!" and immediately we all started giggling, except Mumbles.
"NO BACON?! YOU SAID BACON!" loud enough to be heard in the restaurant.
We continued to giggle as he mumbled to himself for about five minutes. The only phrases I caught were "fucking bacon" and "everybody order different."

I'm still giggling, he's probably still bitching.

Happy New Year!!

Sorry I've been MIA, y'all. Work has been the usual, nothing standing out at the moment.

Hopefully I'll see all your hung over faces this evening and have something to write about!