These are true stories of my experiences as a waitress.

Stories of a Waitress Slowly Going Insane

Kick off those slip resistant shoes and relax

Threw a Temper Tantrum

So my night started off alright… no complaints… waited on a millionaire that gave me a nice tip and he was super funny…. then I get to my last table. 

du du duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu *pending doom noise*

I get sat with my last table of the night around 8:30 p.m. and they are waiting on two more people. They order 2 waters and say that sometimes their friends tend to run late, which I tell them is no problem. It’s only 8:30 after all….I ask if they’d like an appetizer while they wait, and Mr. and Mrs. Talkative decline. Mrs. Talkative then asks what time we close, and I tell her 10pm, to which she replies, “Oh great. We are fine then.”

a half hour later… 

Their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Fathead come in, and I take everyone’s order. 

By 9:30, Mr. and Mrs. Fathead, and Mr. Talkative have finished eating, but Mrs. Talkative still has a half rack of ribs left on her plate. I go to the back and grab a to-go box, thinking she’ll probably ask me for one once I come back. As I bring it over and offer it to her, she looks me square in the eye and says in this really offended voice, “I’m not done yet,” and waves the box away. 

I definitely felt really stupid, but I had good intentions. 

So I finish up with everything else in the back; I have my silver rolled, my sidework is finished, and my other tables are clean. All I’m waiting on is this table, so I walk over and ask if anyone would like dessert, since Mrs. Talkative is just picking around her food and talking her mouth off. They decline, but then Mr. Talkative orders a decaf coffee… How delightful… it’s a half hour after close and he’s ordering coffee. I’m never getting out of here. 

I drop their checks after I deliver his coffee, and then it’s another half hour before they actually offer up their credit cards to pay. I run their credit cards and deliver them back, then it’s just another waiting game. 

At 11:30, Casanova (one of the hosts) walks back into the kitchen and tells me that my table wants a to-go box.

I AM LIVID. WHAT A DUMB FUCKING CUNT. WHY WOULD SHE NOT HAVE JUST TAKEN THE MOTHERFUCKING TO GO BOX WHEN I OFFERED IT INSTEAD OF BEING A TOTAL BITCH?! AND THEN SITTING THERE FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF AFTER CLOSE.

I HATE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After they finally leave, I throw the biggest tempter tantrum that a 22 year old has ever been known to throw. I”m embarrassed even thinking about it now. As Golden Girl watched (and laughed), I stomped around cleaning that last table while yelling obscenities over and over again. 

I then say, “HOW DO YOU PEOPLE DO THIS FIVE NIGHTS A WEEK?! I’M ONLY HERE THREE NIGHTS A WEEK AND I WANT TO COMMIT A MURDER!!!!!”

As I continue yelling and screaming, I look up and catch Unstable standing in the corner of the dining room with this amused expression on his face. 

OF ALL THE PEOPLE TO CATCH ME DOING THIS AND MAKE FUN OF MY TEMPER, IT HAD TO BE THE BIPOLAR MANAGER?! THE FUCK?!

And he continued to laugh and smile as he watched me in my rage. seriously. I’m kind of laughing at it now. He hasn’t been bad lately, but it amuses me that he thought I was so hilarious… Definitely the “pot calling the kettle black” type of situation. 

So there. There’s my rant of the night. OH, AND I HAVE A FINAL WORTH 150 POINTS IN THE MORNING AND I JUST GOT HOME. TO MY TABLE TONIGHT, SUCK MY NONEXISTENT DICK YOU ASSHOLES!!!!!! 

Have you ever noticed how….

The people that are the most particular, and that are the biggest pain, are the skimpiest tippers of all?

Take Mr. and Mrs. Particular for instance….(they aren’t THAT bad or anything, but this is just an example for reference and I waited on them tonight)

They both ask for FRESH sweet teas. HEAVEN FORBID you top off their glasses in passing with your pitcher of fresh sweet tea.. OH NO….THEY WANT A FRESH ONE EVERY TIME….yet they suck them dry within minutes. HOW FUCKING CONVENIENT.

They also order all this extra lemon with their teas…yet use maybe 1/3 of it…. or they ask for more bread, when there is clearly still a half loaf in their basket to consume.

Oh, and then they order this apple tart thing that comes with ice cream for dessert…and they say, “We want it extra hot.”

…alright then…..

They usually have some sort of coupon, and they tip no more than five dollars every time…sometimes even less than that, and yet I make several trips for their convenience. They never even have to ask me for a FRESH tea instead of a pitcher refill because I remember them! Today, they had ten freaking dollars off their meal…and I received four bucks… yay….. NOT

Mr. and Mrs. Needy and their lovely daughter Butterface

I waited on an elderly couple and their daughter today, (mr. and mrs. needy, and their daughter butterface) and they were so damn needy that I couldn’t walk past them without a request for something. It started to become really frustrating because I couldn’t pay hardly any attention to my other tables. 

They ordered cheese fries and asked for a side of chili… I bring those items, along with a huge ramekin of ranch dressing for the fries. When I bring those, Mr. Needy says, “We will need extra ranch.” 

As I bring the ranch, the host seats me at the booth directly in front of the one with the family I’m currently waiting on. Mr. Needy then says, “We need sour cream for the fries.”

And you couldn’t have told me that when I made the trip back to get your ranch?

I smile and tell him I will have it out as soon as I can, and I greet the booth in front of them, which is another elderly couple. However, they order alcohol. Old people with alcohol are ten times more fun than their peers. Anyway, I greet the couple and walk past the family when Mr. Needy yells, “Ma’am, you forgot our sour cream.” 

I haven’t even made it to the kitchen yet…. and I was in CLEAR VIEW the entire time that I greeted my table, which didn’t even take all of 30 seconds! REALLY, SIR? I know you’re old, but you aren’t blind.

I run the sour cream out and then start taking the cool couple’s order, when the daughter, Butterface, turns around and starts saying “maam?” a lot to try and get my attention. She is sitting behind cool old couple, so of course this is making it really hard for me to take their order because she’s not easy to ignore. However, I’m now the master at channeling stupid out of my radar when needed, so I continue to give cool couple my full attention.

After taking their order, I walk two steps over to Butterface and say, “yes?” 

"Oh, we just need more butter…" 

Really, bitch? You just interrupted me taking my table’s order for some extra fucking butter? Do you live on a planet where everything revolves around you? Or do you think that’s just what I’m supposed to do? 

So I bring Butterface some damn butter, and OF COURSE they need something else. I don’t even remember what it was. This is how it went throughout the entire time. They also ordered things in very complicated ways. They sat there for three hours running me back and forth. 

I bring Mrs. Needy a bunch of to-go boxes because she eats at the speed of a child without teeth. Butterface then orders a brownie sunday, but she only wants to eat the ice cream here and shes giving the brownie to her mom, so she wanted us to make it to-go…..

Only, instead of asking me in that simple way, she asks, “Can I get the brownie sundae? Except I only want ice cream…”

"So you want just a hot fudge sundae?"

"No, I want the brownie sundae, but I’m giving the brownie to my mother."

"So you want the brownie on a separate plate?"

"No I want it to-go"

"So you want the brownie sundae to-go?"

"No! I want the brownie to-go!!!"

….silence…..

Me: “So…. you want to eat the ice cream here, but you want the brownie to-go?”

And she stares at me blankly, as if I’m supposed to know that already…. Dumb bitch…. 

After all is said and done, or so I thought, Butterface then says, “Can you bring my mother to-go cups for her stuff?”

I look to where Mrs. Needy sits and think to myself…what stuff? All I can see is half a ramekin of ranch and 1/4 a ramekin of butter left for her to take. 

Sure enough, she wanted to take that, and the leftover bread home, so I bring another box and a bunch of plastic ramekins. I think I’m FINALLY finished with them, when Butterface says, “Can you bring a box for the to-go cups?”

REALLY, BUTTERFACE? WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE THAT YOU CAN’T TELL ME THAT STUFF YOU NEED ALL AT ONE TIME INSTEAD OF MAKING ME WALK MILES AROUND YOUR TABLE? YOU SEE THAT SMOKE RISING OFF MY SLIP-RESISTANT SHOES? THAT’S FROM YOU!!!!

….I hate people…..