Skip to main content

Dine LA Brings Out the Cray Cray

I survived another Dine LA restaurant week.  Dine LA is the St. Patrick's Day for foodies.  Most of the people participating in it are amateurs, don't go out in public much, but somehow think they are culinary critics.  Pretty much all the people who write on Yelp.

I had three Asian ladies sitting in my section.  They were giving me a very bitchy vibe, but I tried to ignore it.  One of them was drinking wine, but they all were there for Dine LA.  When clearing the first course, the wine lady yells, "I'm not done with that!" when I tried to clear her plate.  She had her fork across her plate and only had a piece of lettuce left.

Then at some point, the wine lady snaps at my co-worker, holds up the wine menu and says she needs another glass.  Listen up:  Not all servers look alike, you racists!

They get their entrees, and then, the real bitchiness happens.  They call me over and the wine lady asks me about some of the greens on her Seabass.

"Is that dirt?" she asks.

"I can't really tell.  But it looks dark," I answer.  "It's really meant to be a garnish.  We use organic greens, so sometimes this happens.  I would be happy to have them make you a new plate."

"No, I like the fish.  I just didn't know if I was supposed to eat that.  I don't normally see dirt on things when I go out.  I didn't know if that was on purpose or an accident.  Should I eat it?"

"If you're not normally accustomed to eating dirt, then I wouldn't eat it."

Yes, I ACTUALLY said that to her.  Give me a break.  When you break this down, she was asking me if she should EAT DIRT.  Unless you're at a vegan restaurant, or you're 5 years old, who the hell would be serving and eating dirt?

They took it the wrong way because one of the friends chimed in.  "She was just asking a question.  I don't think she appreciated what you said.  Can we talk to the manager?"

"Okay."  And I walked off to tend to my two other tables near them, who were neglected because of my dirt debate with the whino.

I tell my manager.  She smooths things over and tells me that they are happy with the service and food.  Whatever!  So I go to clear their entree plates--very carefully this time--and the whino says to me, "You know, I was just asking you a question, you didn't have to take it personally!"

This is when I turn on the fake empathy and make them think that I care.  "I was just concerned that you weren't happy with your meal.  And I wanted you to enjoy your dining experience here."  Boom.

They have their desserts and then demand the check.  They give me three credit cards to split the check between them.  Then the whino lady says, "And take off the two glasses of wine!"  I just stared at her.  "Your manager said that she was going to comp them."

So I go tell my manager and sure enough, she didn't say that.  But like all people who complain, they did get a discount for being horrible people.  And I'm just waiting for the Yelp review.  Because Asian women are drawn to Yelp like Hello Kitty.

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

"Bitter.  Party of 1?  Your table is ready."










TWITTER
PODCAST
FACEBOOK
THE BITTER BISTRO

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

10 Ways To Get Better Service At A Restaurant

I have noticed that there are many variables that can lead to a bad dining experience, and for the customer to say that they received "poor service" has become cliche, and just the "go to" for when all things go bad in a restaurant.  Here is a Top 10 list to help customers have a positive experience the next time they dine out.

10.  SIT AT THE FIRST TABLE THE HOST GIVES YOU
"This table's too round.  This table's too brown.  This table's just right."  You are not buying real estate.  So for you to pass on the first, then the second, and even the third table option the host gives you is beyond ridiculous.  The tables are all made the same, have four legs, four chairs, (if applicable,) and are strong enough to hold food, drinks, and purses.  And if you pass on a table, now you've messed up the floor plan that the host has prepared at the beginning of their shift, and everybody in the restaurant takes notice as you are aimlessly walking around…

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…