|"Hey. Nice tit bags, lady. Those puppies just got you a free dessert."|
I'm getting away from myself. Anyway...there are these articles being shared that are written by bartenders and servers loudly boasting about all the things they can't stand about the people they serve on a daily basis. A "dos" and "donts" as a customer, if you will. Oh, really?
First of all, you're a server. You're doing a job that business owners and managers entrust to immature, teenagers that specialize in fucking up. You are 100% replaceable so don't act like you're saving the fucking world here. Second of all, if you hate all this shit and the people you serve so much...GET A DIFFERENT FUCKING JOB. You are literally the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to the work force. I respect janitors more. So GIVE IT A REST on these bitching lists or do something else for a living.
After (regretfully) reading these hilarious lists, I have decided to concoct my own list of "dos" and "donts" for people responsible for serving me food. If you get to air your grievances then I think it's only right that I get to air mine.
1. Don't act annoyed that I'm there
The only time you're allowed to act like a cock is if some asshole waltzes in 10 minutes before close. Because that's a fucking dick move. Taco Bell closes at 3am. Go shove that in your fat, lazy mouth, loser. I have a 30 minute rule that I operate by. If you close in 30 minutes or less...I won't come in. Because that's rude as fuck, IMO. But if you close in 40 minutes then you're fair game. So if I'm giving you that courtesy, then I expect it back, fucko. Don't roll your damn eyes at me if I walk in at 9:20 and you close at 10.
2. Know the menu
If the menu says "a starch" comes as a side and you can't name that starch, it makes you look like a moronic toad. Not to mention that it also happens to be YOUR FUCKING JOB to know. Let's not gloss over that. And for the love of Baby Jesus's dirty diapers...don't tell me that "you think" the starch is mashed potatoes and then bring me grits. Because I fucking hate grits. Have you ever bit into grits expecting it to be mashed potatoes because that's what your server told you? There are no words to describe the fury.
3. Remember my order
Listen. No onions is a pretty simple request and pretty easy to remember, I would think. If you have problems remembering things that were discussed about 8 seconds ago then write it down on your standard restaurant issued goofy little notepad thing. Don't act like Johnny Fuckin Know-it-all and forget I hate onions by the time you get back to the kitchen because you can't stop starting at hostess Monica's barely 18 tits. No one likes a hero, pal. And another thing. If you fuck up my order, don't go back to the kitchen and have one of the high school drop outs working the grill just scrape off what I don't like with his nut skin. Re-do it. You're the one who fucked up. Not me.
4. I'm not a professional eater
More times than not, I utilize the appetizer page of the menu. Fuck off, I like to eat. Just because I eat like a hog doesn't mean I care to look like one too. So wait until I've finished my appetizer before you bring anything that has to do with my main course, dick smack. I don't even give a rat's ass if you take my entree order WHILE I'm enjoying my appetizer. Go nuts, if you must. Just don't shove everything I ordered in front of me all at once. I'm not Joey Fucking Chestnut. I'm not housing everything in under 6 minutes. Furthermore, I don't care to ruin any shirt sleeves from unknowingly dipping them into the marinara trough as I reach for my double bacon cheeseburger.
5. Pet names
These are annoying. Don't use them. I'm not a "hun" or a "sweetie" or a "babe". I'm a fucking man with a fucking name that you don't need to know or use. Your job isn't to get to know me on a personal level. Your job is to take my order (correctly) and make sure Billy Trailer Park in the back cooks it right without doing anything illegal to it. That's it. Pretty simple.
This pisses me off like no other. I don't know how everyone else here is, but I must have a beverage at all times while eating. I just do, okay? I shouldn't have to stop you as you pass by my table for the 5th time and beg for a refill after my drink has been empty for 10 minutes. I know you've had a tough night because you just got 30 Snapchats of your girlfriend getting finger slammed in some college guy's TransAm but don't take your grief out on my thirst. I'm sure you have "a lot of tables" but making sure my drink is always full goes a long way towards that tip you think you deserve so much.
Here's my philosophy on tipping. You have to fucking earn it. I'm not going to automatically tip the suggested 20% if you've been a dead fish all night. I can't stand it when I get reminded that servers rely on tips to survive. Oh yeah?? Then they better do their fucking best at earning those tips, now shouldn't they? And if I'm paying in cash then bring me back bill denominations conducive to tipping properly. Instead of giving a ten and two fives, bring out a ten, a five and five ones. That's serving 101, dick head. If you don't give me proper tipping change then that shitty tip is on you, hoss.
8. Check, please.
I hear this a lot...in the whiniest, most nasally voice ever. "I hate it when people stay too long after their meal. They don't realize I make more money by flipping tables faster." Is that a fact? That's odd because it always takes forfuckingever to get my check and have you process it. The checkout process should take no more than 5 minutes. Drop check off, fill another table's drinks, come back to me, take check with my cash/card inside, swipe card or cash out, bring back, goodbye forever. Simple. I don't want to be there any longer than you want me to be there, shit lips. So let's do each other a fucking favor and speed this whole process up.
Eight is an odd number to end on but whatever. This was strictly off the top of my head with no real structure. Just an angry retort to asshole servers who think they're better than the people they serve. So shove that up your asses, dick wads. You guys think you're so fucking perfect but guess what? You suck just as much, if not more, than the shit heels you serve and bitch about on the Internet. The same people you rely on to put gas in your Honda Civic that gets you to community college you'll never finish. I hope you enjoyed your dining experience with the Iceman today. I'm here to make the world a better, more hate filled place for all.