Yessum Massa

So, last night at work was super duper fun!

I had a table of three women with two children who decided that I was the anti-christ and weren't afraid to say it.

Here's how it went down:

Me: Hi! How's everybody doing?

Women who's husbands are cheating on them apparently: Good thanks.

Me: Would you all like to start with something to drink?

Ugly Bitter F#$kfaces: Sure, we'll have (enter first bottle of wine here--they had two), Oh, and do you have chicken tenders for the kids?

Me: Yes, actually we do, but we don't serve them after 6:30 because the kitchen isn't prepped for that, I'm sorry. (It was 7:30)

(Now...here we go...strike once against me. Because obviously it's a conspiracy and we have NOTHING BUT chicken tenders in the kitchen, but I'm just NOT going to let these people have them...MMMMMWWWWWWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH)

Whores: Okay, well, do you have like 1/2 of a steak?

Me: Well, you can order the side of steak that comes with the salad...that's smaller.

(Look at me, being so nice and accomodating!)

Them: Okay, we'll take two of those (yada yada yada, etc.)

Later...

Me: Hi! How's everybody doing?

"Why did we get married and have children, we are sooo miserable!": Um, we asked for extra capers, sour cream and lemons and they haven't come yet.

Me: But you asked someone for them? (Just to clarify)

My husband hates me: Yes, can you go check to see if it's coming?

Me: If you already asked someone, then it's on it's way, but I will definitely go double check for you.

Bitch of the century: WELL IT'S TAKING A REALLY LONG TIME! (That means it's been about 10 seconds)

Me: (Looking around the room to see how busy it is). Yes, I'm sorry, but we are really really busy.

Later...

Me: Okay, so how is everybody doing?

Thing 1: Terrible actually. There is a bunch of stuff that we don't like.

Thing 2: We want to see a manager.

Me: Okay.

Now, let me just say that ALL of my other tables were happy as clams. And I was in a good mood last night, so I don't know what the f was up with these women, but anyway...

Those stupid entitled miserable c words told the manager that they were pissed off because I...get ready for this...BACK TALKED them!

Oooooooooooooooo, stop the presses...I "back talked" them! CALL THE POLICE!

First of all...what am I...nine?!

Second of all...I did not back talk them, I assured them that once they asked for something, it would indeed be on it's way. I do not see the problem with this, but I guess because I didn't shit a side of sour cream and capers out of my ass right there on the spot and hand it to them that now some heads were gonna roll! Oh, and they also said they thought I was being a bitch because I clearly don't like children. Ummmmmmm...

My manager asked them what would make them happy and they asked for another server.

Good. Later betches! (the misspelling is intentional...it's a Valley Girl accent just incase you didn't know)

So, I went on with my night and the rest of my happy tables and my happy self.

Later...

I'm seating a new table right next to Peroxide Hell's table and as I'm pulling the table out to seat my new guests...:

Thing 1: We still need to talk to you. (Enter venom in the tone of voice here.)

Me: Okay, I'm seating someone. I will be right with you.

Thing 2: DID YOU HEAR WHAT SHE JUST SAID TO YOU?!? OH, MY GOD! SHE IS SOOOO RUDE! (Loud enough for my new customers to hear.

Me: Okay, now what can I do for you?

Thing 2: YOU ARE SO RUDE. YOU DO NOT TALK TO CUSTOMERS THAT WAY. HOW DARE YOU BACK TALK US. (and a bunch of other horrifying nonsense that I don't remember)...

Me: Okay. BYE!

The End.

Turns out they wanted to tell me that they never got their side of fries that they ordered.

Um...what the f#$k does that have to do with me? If that was my problem, I would have fixed it, but since they banished me from their miserable kingdom, that became someone else's problem. Why they didn't tell their new and improved server this info is beyond me...or the manager even. I guess getting rid of me wasn't enough...we still had unfinished business and DAMN IT I was gonna PAAAAAYYYYYYY!

I'm sickened. Truly and utterly sickened.

And then to top things off...

Much much later...

Our number one Douchebag Customer, let's call him DOUCHEBAG, muttered something as I walked by.

DOUCHEBAG: mhlskhlmfsldh

Me: What?

DOUCHEBAG: WHAT!?

Me: I'm sorry, what did you say?

Keep in mind this person (who is a major coke head and drinks at least 10 beers at our establishment every single night) has not spoken to me in almost 3 weeks ever since he lost his shit because I turned the music down when some song he liked was blaring. (I did not do it to piss him off, I did it cause I had another customer in the restaurant...it was really late and they were the only two folks and it was inappropriately loud).

DOUCHEBAG: You can't figure it out? (again, with venom)

Me: (blank stare...cause I mean, seriously...am I in the twilight zone? what the hell is up with these people? and why do they think this is an appropriate way to treat others?...oh, cause the powers that be at said establishment let them...that's right. my bad. i forgot who was valued and important around here for a sec.)

DOUCHEBAG: Can I get another beer?

Me:

...and I just kept on walking.

So, I told the manager on duty to get it for him cause I sure as hell am not serving this person.

Ever again.

So, yeah, it was super fun! I can't wait to do it all over again really really soon.


The moral of the story is...when I am reincarnated after I die, I need to remember not to let myself get into a situation (i.e. waiting tables) where ignorant miserable people are allowed to treat me how ever they want and can totally get away with it because...

The Customer is Always Right.

Psh. As if.