Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Some of the worst types

Tonight two women and four kids came in. Three of the kids were about 5-7 years old and the fourth was about 11-12. I get their drinks and their order and everything is fine. The order came up, and as it wouldn't all fit on one tray, the expediter filled up one tray and then called for a runner while I waited to get the second tray. For some reason, one of the women's chicken dish was not coming up. The runner returns to the kitchen. Half the table already has their food. Bleh. So I ask the cook what's holding up the chicken and whether I should go and come back for it or just wait a few more seconds. He says to go. So against my instincts, I go. I haaaaaaaaaaaaate not delivering all the food at once, but at this point it's already done and I didn't have any control over it.

I return to the kitchen and the chicken is ready. I start to walk out with it and the little ramekin of sauce (she asked for the sauce on the side) when I realize there is no cheese on the chicken. So I go back and they put some cheese on it and throw it in the oven so it will melt. Finally I arrive with the chicken and tell her that they had forgotten to put the cheese on it and so that is why it took so long.

They all dig in, and I go about helping other tables. Next thing you know I see the manager at the table giving the woman a fresh plate of chicken. I grab the manager and ask what the problem was. She said that the woman didn't want sauce on it, so she had it remade. I told her that it did not have sauce on it when I brought it out, and she shrugs. This tells me the woman did not address her problem with the manager at all. Or she put the sauce on it and decided she didn't like it. ORRRRRRRRRR, more likely, she was just trying to get something for free. :) Gee, wonder which it could be.

So then I go to the woman and ask if there was a problem with her chicken. She says it was severely overcooked. I apologize and ask if her new chicken is to her liking. She says it is.

Okay, so time passes and the kids manage to make the biggest fucking mess I've ever seen. They keep running to the hostess stand and grabbing toothpicks, gnawing on them, and dropping the broken remnants on the floor. Just dropping their goddamn trash on the floor and leaving it there. What. The. Fuck.

The woman asks me if she can have a to-go box for her chicken. I give one to her and apologize again for the first order of chicken. I get them their checks, cash them out, and then they proceed to sit there for another HOUR. The kids are bored as hell running around, bothering people, spreading the mess further and further away from the actual table.

When they finally get up and go, leaving behind a disaster of a mess in their wake, I go to pick up the checks. She has left a note on her credit card receipt that says, "I am very disappointed that I was charged for a meal that was late to begin with and then so terrible I couldn't eat it." UM. HAAAAAAAAAANG ON. You didn't get charged for that one. You got charged for the SECOND one, which you ate and took the rest home with you and fucking enjoyed.

At the bottom is a $2 tip on a $36.00 tab. Her cunt friend also left a dismal tip, $3 on a $42 tab. I don't make the food, I don't get to comp items, she spoke to the manager and didn't ask for anything to be comped, all of this was beyond MY personal control, AND we made it right, AND she sat there and hogged my table for hours, ANDDDD her little urchins trashed half the dining room, AND she came in here looking for an opportunity to get something free and she didn't, and she takes it out on me?

FUCK. HER.

Luckily all my other customers were delightful tonight.

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