Skip to main content

My parents neglected me as a customer.


There aren't too many places you can go in the world, where you are constantly stroked, hand-held, and paid attention too as you are when you are sitting as a customer in a restaurant, and your server is taking care of you. For that amount of time, your server treats you as if you are their only child. Whatever you want, it's brought to you. If you don't like something, they will get you something you like. And even in some instances, if you don't like your server, a new one will be brought to you and you can start anew with that one. It's like a perfect little customer universe that was created with one thing in mind... to please the customer. You are basically allowed to pick and choose the family you always wanted to have, at least for two and a half hours. But even then, it's still not enough!

I remember this one unforgettable Saturday night, (believe, it's not like I haven't tried to forget it.) It was a table of three ladies. They were going to go to an "80's" party afterwards so they were dressed the part. I thought they were dressed like "Wonder Woman." They corrected me and said they were dressed like "Madonna." But apparently we all were wrong, because my manager said that they were "Cougars." (Tres Bien, Freddy!) They were having a great time. Taking pictures, getting the attention of other customer's, drinking! Then, the woman sitting in the middle stops me and asks,

"I wanted to ask you a question?" Next thing I know, the other two women stop her and say that everything is fine, and that I am doing a great job. Now, unfortunately I can't let this go. But finally she says, "oh, never mind."

"No, please. Now I have to know what your question is?" I pleaded.

"Okay." She says. "Are you neglecting us? I see you going around to other tables, but I kind of feel neglected."

"Of course not." I swear.

"I'm sorry," she claims, "I just wear my heart on my sleeve. I had to ask."

But like I've said in the past, I will anticipate my guests needs. So I said, "I wouldn't do that, but since you've asked, I'm going to neglect you now."

Until next time... Server's don't pay their rent with compliments.

"Bitter, party of one? Your table is ready."

The Bitter Bistro

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Letter to Yelpers

Dear Yelpers:

You think you're smart.  Nope.  You think you're cool.  Wrong again.  You think this is the popularity that you have been yearning to have since high school.  (BUZZ!)  Incorrect.

It's time for you to take the energy that you put into your Yelping, and focus your attention on yourself.  Your "opinion" is not important.  The fact that your meal was ruined by the color of your server's apron, or the shape of the plates, or that they didn't give you anything for free on your birthday just means that you were not a planned pregnancy, and you should be grateful that you made it to full term.

Ouch!  That hurts, doesn't it?  Well, do you think that destroying someone's business is okay?  That demeaning your server or bartender makes you look like you know what you're talking about?  If your opinion REALLY mattered, (it doesn't,) then you should crawl out from your hiding space where you Yelp on your laptop, and talk to someone face-…

Cover My Shift!!!

The anxiety of trying to get your shift covered at a serving job ranks up there with wondering if the pee stick is going to turn positive or negative after a long night of having shots with your coworkers, and you ended up hooking up with one of them.  Eventually, the pregnancy scare turns out to be negative, you get your shift covered, and everything is right with the world.

But trying to get your shift covered is never easy.  Especially when you feel like you go out of your way to cover other people's shifts when they ask, but when the time comes for you to ask them, it becomes an entire ordeal.

"Hey Steve, would you be able to cover my shift next Wednesday night?  My parents are going to be in town," I asked last Saturday night.

"I might be able to, but I won't know until Tuesday.  Can I get back to you then?" Steve replied.

"That's cutting it close," I said.  "Would you be able to tell me by Monday?"

"I can't cause I h…

Don't Forget Your Teeth

An older lady was dining with her husband, granddaughter, and her granddaughter's boyfriend one night, when the old lady turns to me and says,

"What do you have that's soft to eat?  I forgot my teeth."

Who the hell forgets their teeth?  Let me get this straight, when you looked at yourself in the mirror before you left, you didn't notice something was missing when you smiled?


"I know how you feel," I said, "sometimes I forget my phone.  I feel lost without it."  She just looked at me as if she didn't know what I meant by that because she still uses a rotary phone.  (Look it up.)

I explained that we have soups that she could have, but she was concerned about her choices for salad.  She and her family were using a Groupon, so they had to select from the items on the prefixed menu.

"Is the salad soft?" she asked.

"I could have the kitchen chop it fine for you.  That would make it easier to eat." I replied.  I was also g…