My first day back.

sucked wang for the most part.
I walk in, everyone's excited to see me, I tell them all about my trip (which was awesome!) and then back to the usual.
I have one or two negligible tables, nothing to write home (or on a blog) about.
Then I see a table coming in who I know is going to be trouble, and obviously it's my turn. Two old, fat, black ladies both walking with canes. They both order water with lemon, the larger one (hereby known as ABW) insisting on a to-go cup.
I bring them both over and ABW says, 'would it kill you to fill it up the whole way?'
Now I know why she wanted a to-go cup, she knows they're bigger, and obviously that half an inch brings the water to EXACTLY the amount needed to parch her immense thirst. At this point, I'm too shocked to come up with a clever response so I just go back, fill the water to the brim, and hope she spills it on her dumb, rude ass.
When they are ready to order, it becomes clear to me that they do not know how to read or hear. They ask me multiple times what the vegetables are and although pointing out our standard ones and repeating our vegetables of the day, they do not seem to grasp the fact that we have peas.
They both order dinners, ABW orders a baked sweet potato with hers but I have to 'make sure it's not small! don't tease me now, I love sweet potatoes!' Fine.
I bring out their salads and a bread basket, and am almost immediately called over because the crackers are broken. I take the first one she hands me and go back to the kitchen to get more, when ABW calls me back saying "wait a minute, wait a minute, look at me. as if I am being scolded in kindergarten. I turn around with one eyebrow raised, and she hands me another pack of broken crackers. She couldn't STAND to have those broken crackers on her table for one more second, they were so freaking offensive. And a request for more water, "but can you put some ice in it this time?"
Their entrees come out, and surprisingly enough, the sweet potato isn't big enough. I put down the baked potato the other woman ordered and give her a look that says 'they're the same size you fat, greedy bitch.' I'm sure you can imagine how it looked. I think she received my telepathic messages of hate because the rest of the meal seemed uneventful, and I actually got a 15% tip, when I was expecting 10% at the most.

The rest of the night was filled with bad tippers (a stiff and $1 on $30, really guys?) and coworkers who either didn't pay attention, didn't know what they were doing, or were on something and didn't care. Possibly all three.

I plan to start today with the intention to sincerely smile and greet all my tables, and not to inwardly (or outwardly) groan and roll my eyes when sat with a horrible regular. I give myself fifteen minutes. Twenty if we're slow.

A short break.

A) This bitch is going to Vegas on Monday
B) This DUMB bitch broke her laptop.
So I will be gone for about a week.

I leave you with this question: why do people get so tense over who pays the check?
One time, a man, his mother-in-law, and about six other people at this table had their hands practically in my mouth, they were so close to my face trying to grab this check. I gave it to the hand directly in front of my eyeballs, which turned out to be the son-in-law. I seriously thought the mother-in-law was going to pop me one.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I just gave it to whoever was closest."
I was thinking, "Thank god it wasn't this old bitch, I would have gotten ten percent if I was lucky."

She looked desperately put out.
"But I was sitting RIGHT HERE," she snapped.

I giggled and walked away. Not my problem anymore.

I always want to ask "Well, who leaves bigger tips?" when people fight over the check, but I don't think I would get an honest answer. Or a tip.

This is a new one.

So a few weeks ago, one of the 'old girls' answered the phone, and it was that Relay Service (deaf people communicate through an interpreter - they type what they want to say, the operator relays (eh? get it?) the message, and then types the response of the person on the other line).
They want to place a to-go order, which is all well and good.... for THREE HUNDRED GRILLED CHEESES. She told him, 'Uhm...... you're going to have to call back when the owner is here.' We didn't hear from them for a while.
Then, about two weeks ago, they call again. They speak to the hostess on duty, Kelly. I'm in the kitchen picking up an order when she comes in and goes through the same deal, but this time they want 750 caesar salads for a wedding (yes you read that right), paid in advance through credit card right then. I immediately say 'That shit is weird.' But our cook starts foaming at the mouth at the thought of that big an order and tells Kelly to take it.
At this point, she's been on the phone for at least fifteen minutes, going back and forth through this operator. Luckily we weren't too busy, and another coworker and myself got to sit at the counter and watch everything unfold.
They say they want to charge the credit card an extra $500, which we would give in cash to the driver who was to pick up the order. At this point, my coworker and I are just staring with raised eyebrows, wondering how long Kelly will let this go on. She decides to go for it. She enters the credit card number, but when she asked for the zip code, the seemed hesitant and gave her some bogus number. Obviously, it didn't go through. They had her try it a few more times, and eventually decided to call back. Almost an hour has passed.
The next night, they try it again. They ask for Kelly specifically. She told them they would need to come in, in person, and speak to the owner to place that big of an order.

Immediately, "the other party has disconnected."

I did NOT say "I told you so."

dear god, why.

Just, why?

I made you three milkshakes and two glasses of chocolate milk. I answered your stupid questions while rolling my eyes only internally. I lovingly placed hot plates in front of you and warned you not to touch them. I gave you my fake waitress laugh. I sincerely wished you a good night.

So why, why, why did you leave me five singles for your sixty dollar check?

happy valentines day to me!

I wasn't expecting to be busy last night, considering we're not the classiest joint to take your lady love to on Valentine's, but we were fairly slammed for a Monday.
Busy enough that I didn't stop moving from about 5-7, but not so busy any of the girls got stuck.
I was in a great mood, everyone was nice and tipped five or more (which says a lot cause our shit is cheap and most checks are around twenty).

Only one table stood out: a group of three hillbillies and their trailer trash offspring. The parents hollered for things they 'needed' whenever I was within earshot, the kids screamed and DESTROYED the table. I did my best to be efficient without anyone feeling ignored, and they surprised me with a 30% tip, which a coworker said she'd never seen from them.

Nice.

Wow.

So I walk up to a young couple seated in my station today and I hear the guy on his bluetooth saying, "yeah, she was all, "I love you and your cock is so big!" The girlfriend noticed me and started giggling, so I couldn't help but call him out and say, "I've heard worse." She was mortified.


Then he ordered a side of pickles.

No, it's chicken francaise.

A lady says.... "Is the salmon scampi.... salmon scampi?"

How can one possibly respond to a question like that?