Every Sunday night this large church group would come in, about 20+ people. They would come in at the tail end of the dinner shift, just as I was about to pull myself out of the weeds, and they would ask for me to be their waiter.
Then, if they couldn’t get five tables near each other, they would spread out all over the restaurant into other waiters’ zones but still insist on me being their server.
They would act disappointed (and in some cases annoyed) that I didn’t remember their drink preferences from previous weeks. They would place their beverage and food orders, then get up and change tables. Not to fuck with me, mind you; they were just being sociable with each other.
Then they would get fussy with their orders. This or that was wrong, this is undercooked, I didn’t think it would look like that so can I order something else, etc.
It was hard for me to tell if I had gotten an order wrong, or if maybe I had the right order for the wrong guy because they wouldn’t stay in the same seat throughout the experience. It went on and on.
They were, per capita, the neediest customers I had to deal with all week, and there were 20 of them all at once.
Every. Fucking. Sunday.
So here’s the kicker…
That’s what I got tipped every week, plus about $5 in change.
#10. Horrible bystanders
One night a family consisting of mother, father, teenage son, and two small children come into the restaurant and order a chicken sandwich (among other things).
When they get the food back, the woman insists the chicken sandwich was ordered without lettuce and is upset that it has lettuce on it.
My co-worker insisted that she didn’t order it without lettuce and a fight ensues.
The mother, father, and older son proceed to go behind the counter and beat the crap out of my coworker, giving her a black eye and breaking her arm.
Yes, over a piece of lettuce. Talk about fun things to do together as a family…
My other two coworkers that were working with her that night went into the dining room to avoid the confrontation.
There was an entire dining room full of people enjoying their meals. Not one person stepped in to help her or even call the police.
After the family was gone, the police were finally called– by the woman that was beat up.
#11. 35-cent wing night
Until recently, I worked at a restaurant with a 35-cent wing night special.
One of the “rules” of wing night is no boxes, so I would always inform my tables from the get-go that they should only order as many wings as they can consume in the one sitting.
I was waiting on a guy and his girlfriend, and when they had finished, he still had wings left over and asked for a box. I said no and reminded him of the no-box rule I had already stated at the beginning of our lovely time together. He then asked for some extra napkins, so I brought some.
I watched in disgust as he wrapped the remaining wings (about 6-8 extra hot/bbq flavor) in a napkin, placed the wad of greasy paper-napkin-covered chicken wings in his pocket, and walked out.