#14. Don’t leave us hanging like that…

I used to work at a coffee shop.

A homeless guy came in one night and started picking his face with a knife, taking chunks of skin out and getting blood all over the table.

Photo Credit: Maarten Van Damme

#15. “I quit a week later”

I used to work in a restaurant in Columbus, GA that was decorated well and had moderately good food but was priced cheaper than freakin’ Applebee’s.

This led to every bad tipper in a 3-county area using this restaurant for their fancy date nights.

A lot of servers pick certain demographics that they find are the worst tippers. But at this restaurant, I quickly learned that if you are the kind of person that orders a steak well-done, you are a poor tipper.

Anyway, one night I get a table of two people. Its a very obvious date night for a couple that very obviously doesn’t get out much.

They’re acting like they own the damn place. Two glasses of house wine and an appetizer are ordered at the first go.

I put the order in but the kitchen is running behind, and the app is taking a long time.

For entrees, they both order the most expensive item on the menu: a couple of $25 sirloins. I’ll let you guess how they wanted them cooked.

So I put the sirloins in, and 15 mins later, they come out. I take them to the table only to realize that the appetizer never came out.

Turns out, someone in the kitchen dropped the ticket on the floor and never made the appetizer. They’re pissed about that, the steaks are “under-cooked” and they want to speak to the manager immediately.
I gladly get the manager for them, but he takes their side and tells me that I have to pay for their entire meal.

I tried to take that in stride, but the kind of tips the servers got at this restaurant weren’t worth the trouble.

I quit a week later.

#16. Wait for it…

One night, I was serving an extremely feeble-looking old man (probably around 85-90) and his two middle-aged children.

The old man ate a big bowl of Manhattan Chowder and one glass of red wine, while his children were busy eating their meals.

Not 30 seconds after finishing his last spoonful of soup he stood up. As did his daughter, who had a worried expression on her face.

The man took three steps toward the washroom, then turned and took a couple steps toward the (much closer) patio doors. At this point, his withered body convulsed, and he projectile vomited a mix of stomach acid, fish, clams, and tomato broth, (all mixed with red wine), all over the tile floor.

I rushed over to see if they were alright, and the woman ushered her father to the washroom. The son asked for the bill, and I brought it.

At this point I went and got the mop bucket. When I got back to within sight of the table, the family was on its way out of the restaurant, and I started mopping up the putrid-smelling mess.
As I was wheeling the bucket back towards the back of the restaurant, one of the wheels got caught on something, turned sideways, and got caught on the edge of a tile and tipped over, dumping all the vomit from before, but now with four times the volume, (due to all the mop water), all over the tile floor.

I looked up and saw a few of the servers staring, stone-faced, at me and the vomit-inducing 30sqft puddle of partially-chewed fish, puke, and wine.

Quite exasperated by the situation, I just sighed and said it was okay to laugh, which they immediately did.

And the kicker…

10 minutes later, after I’d finally finished re-mopping up the mess, I went to reset the table for the next guests and opened up the billfold, where I discovered $70 for a $69.90 bill.

Not only did I get to clean up all the vomit twice, but I had to pay to do so as I have to tip out 5% of my sales to the house: roughly $3.50 for this particular bill.

Sources: 1, 2

Want more real stories from the interwebs?

Check out these other great collections: