The place is going mad...
We were down to me and Rick, the closing waiters of the night.
Everyone else had split and it was an uncharacteristic slow night.
Shitty tips and few table turns was the name of the game so the shift manager cut everyone off the floor.
Except Rick and I.
We were finishing up the few tables we had in our section when one after another tables started flowing in.
Time to put on my hero boots.
I was triple sat, then quardrupled.
Then I had five, then six, then seven.
Rick was running laps with a water pitcher and I was yelling at the backwaiters to get back on the floor with their bread baskets.
Literally fifteen tables had walked in for the two of us in about five minutes or so.
I saw the Katie, the hostess running back another table.
I was neck deep in the weeds.
"Hey, I can't take anymore!" I said running up to her after the table was sat.
She gave me a snotty look,"What do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said, no more tables!"
Exasperated she went on,"Well what am I supposed to tell them?"
"I don't care, put them on a wait!" I yelled.
About thirty seconds later I see her out of the corner of my eye, seating another table.
Rick runs up to me sweating like a whore in church,"I can't take another, can you?"
"Are you kidding me?" I said,"I've got like three tables I haven't even been to yet!"
The Katie approaches us and said,"You've been sat at 22."
"I can't take it!!" I shout.
She looks over at Rick, he pretty much sprints away from her.
Aw screw it, I think.
"I'll take it!"
I peer around the corner, no one at 22, but a two top at 23...
Probably the hair brain got her table numbers mixed.
I jump back into the chaos, I was finally catching up.
Late tables pretty much suck where I work, lots of appetizer and dessert only tables with marginal check averages and even lower tips.
So pretty much I'm bounding table to table...
The as I'm up at the expo station with my manager, Katie freaks out at me.
"I told you to take 22!!!" she said," They haven't even been helped!!!"
"There's no one at 22!" I yell back.
She points to a table, the gentlemen glare at us.
"Yah, that's table 40 the last time I checked." I said.
Katie stumbled over her words,"Well I told you to help them!"
"How long have they been there?" Asks the shift manager.
"Over five minutes, they came up and wondered why no one had been by." Said Katie.
The table had no silverware, no water glasses, no condiments.
They had moved from their assigned table apparently, didn't ask or tell the host, nothing.
They didn't even take their menus with them.
Once again I said, "I'll take them!"
If nothing else but to lecture them.
"Folks, can I start you off with something to drink?" I asked.
"We've been waiting here for quite a while," one of them responded with a femme accent.
"Well this is a closed section sir, maybe if you would have asked to move someone would have been with you."
This was met with a nasty look.
"Well we didn't like our table." His partner added.
"Sir, of you seat yourself no one is going to help you."
This isn't Denny's for fuck's sake!
Now I don't mind waiting on gays, they actually tip better than average for the most part.
But there is that group that I don't like, fussy like office ladies and very demanding, they're the bitchy, whiny types.
They are as trailer trash is akin to white folks, every group, color or religion has those we hate to wait on, and I hated these guys, shit I even recognized them.
Another group I don't like, regulars that think they own a place.
Well the dinner experience went off about as well as it could.
They commented on how good and hot everything was, and that it usually comes out cold and not as tasty.
If you don't like where you eat, don't go there!
I'd be happy to lose you as a customer...
btw, at my current job I have nothing but confidence in the menu and our kitchen, like I said, these guys were whiny and mega-particular.
Well at the end of dinner I saw them filling out a comment card, I made a mental not to intercept it at the end and file under T for trash.