That's my sister you're talking about

[Rine]

I have a second job at a members only club. On Friday nights, we have a steak night. This is not a formal resturant at ALL. The kitchen crew is all volunteer and they happen to be on the board that runs the club. So they don't take crap from anyone.

That said, we still have our occasional SC. I was sitting, in my work apron at the table next to the kitchen with one of the three waitresses. My sister is another waitress. An old couple sat down at one of my sister's tables which is right next to the one that I am at. She greets them very professionally and politely.

Old lady: I need a menu.
Sister: Sure! I'll grab you one. (goes to the side table and takes one menu, then gives it to the lady)
Old lady: Sweetie (Very condescendingly), there are TWO of us so we need TWO menus!

My sister apologizes and then grabs another menu. Then she goes to help another customer after old lady said they needed a moment to decide. Then the old lady starts talking. She probably thought that she was whispering but me and the other waitress could hear every word she said.

She starts grumbling about moving to another table and I sort of ignore it for now. Five minutes of grumbling went by and then she said something that pissed me off.

Old lady: This is why we should have sat at (another waitress' table). That stupid bimbo doesn't know what she's doing!

I turned around immediately.

Me: That's my sister you are talking about. Now, if you want to go to another table, get your butt up and move. She knows exactly what she's doing and I don't think she'd appreciate having you as a customer. Move.

Old lady: Well I never! I need to speak to your boss!

Me: Fine.

I didn't even get up because my boss was walking by at that moment.

Me: Mom! Someone needs to talk to you!

Old lady looks panicked. Yeah. My "boss" is my mom--who is a volunteer and works in the kitchen. My mom comes over but the old lady is already getting up with her husband, who looks embarrassed too.

Old lady: Nevermind! We are going!

And so they shuffle off to a table way way in the back. I told my mom what she said and of course, she really didn't appreciate the way the old lady talked about her other daughter.

So I guess the moral of the story is--Don't talk crap about an employee in hearing distance of other people, because they just might be the sister of that employee or worse: their mother.

I might have crossed the line with the way I talked to that customer, but she insulted my sister over nothing and I just don't like that.

[jayel]

I don't blame you at all. Two things I always liked about working with family were:

A. There was always somebody to take up for you with an SC.
B. Suprising people who thought they could talk smack about a co-worker and get away with it. (What stupid cashier? Oh, you mean my cousin?)

That said, I have learned to only defend family when they deserve it, not defend them just because they are family. My family doesn't always deserve defending. I don't like people who defend someone who is in the wrong just because they are related. (This absolutely does not apply in your case. I'm just saying.) I'm proud of you and wish I could have had more opportunities like yours. You didn't over-do it. You'd be kicking yourself if you hadn't said something.

Me: Mom! Someone needs to talk to you!

I especially like that part!

[Peppergirl]

Good for you. Not only was she a bitch, but a dumb one. I cant imagine having the nerve to even STAY there after that!!


My dad used to own a laundromat when I was a teenager. I worked there. I was pretty hot when I was a teen, and unfortunately for this group of young guys who were in there discussing my various body parts, my dad happened to be in there too.

Needless to say, they are lucky they got out of there alive.

[bigjimaz]

OK, this response is going to severely date me. <sigh>

Do any of you remember when gas stations gave out premiums for gasoline purchases? Esso (Damn I'm getting older by the second) used to give out tiger tails, etc. When I was 12 I worked at my dad's Gulf gas station. We used to give out little plastic horseshoes for every 10 gallon purchase. Once you collected 10 (or was it 20?) horseshoes you got a gree tank of gas. You couldn't give them out for 9.9 gallons. This happened one day. I went to get the guy his change and once I gave it to him, the customer became beligerent and started cussing at me (I was 12 remember) saying that 9.9 gallons was close enough and to go get his f&%$ing horseshoe. Once I told him that I couldn't give one to him he began accusing me of intentionally stopping at 9.9 gallons so that I didn't have to give him one, even though he watched as I tapped the nozzle and waited for the bubble to come up hoping I could get to 10. I couldn't. He didn't relent, calling me a dumb fat kid. (Yeah, I was big then too)

My dad overheard this and practically ran to the pump. He told the guy that if he ever comes back, that the gas would get sprayed into the car and not into the tank. Then dad went to the back of the car and wrote the guys license plate number on his hand and told the guy that he was going to call all of the local gas stations and tell them not to sell him gas, which he actually did after the guy laid a strip of rubber as he left the station.

Ah, good ole 1965. I think the gas was about 29¢ a gallon for regular and 32¢ a gallon for 'hi-test'

Now where is my walker?

[wolfie]

Ah, good ole 1965. I think the gas was about 29¢ a gallon for regular and 32¢ a gallon for 'hi-test'

Now where is my walker?

But how did the price of gas (in terms of time worked at a typical wage, rather than raw dollars) back then compare to the price now? Also, even if you could use a time machine to buy a few thousand gallons back then and bring it forward, it wouldn't do you much good - since it would be leaded gas, and cars now need unleaded. Diesel, on the other hand, would be great (for pre-2007 engines - anything designed for 500 PPM fuel can handle 2000 PPM, but the DPF on new engines is wrecked by fuel over 15 PPM sulphur).

[BaristaGirl]

See, that lady was old. You have to train people out of that behavior when they're young or the lesson won't stick! She has probably already passed the bad lesson on to children and grandchildren, and she probably won't be able to pass this new lesson of take-your-shut-the-fsck-up-pill-and-like-it onto them before she dies of being-a-horrible-old-lady-itis.

The lesson here: Make sure you tell the immature teenagers (Not an insult to all teens: I'm 19, leave good tip, clean up after myself, use common courtesy, and generally go out of my way to NOT be an SC. I know that maturity cannot be gauged appropriately by a number, so if you're a teen and you don't act like an idiot, I do not mean you,) off when they complain/don't leave sufficient tip/do other naughty things that immature teenagers do. Breed/teach good behavior young.

[blas]

Not to get too off topic here, but it just goes to show how family must stick together!

You can pick your friends but not your family. Stories like these remind me of how lucky I am that I have a family (save for my mother) who will always stand up for me.

I just got reminded of an instance in high school when some dumb little emo kid was talking with baby brother (who is 6'1 and about 230 lbs, quite a brickhouse!) saying something along the lines of "See that girl? She's the biggest slut I've ever seen in my life!" and baby brother snarled "That's....my.....sister!"

Yeah, I'm pretty sure at that point that emo kid probably actually really considered comitting suicide before baby brother would get to him.

[Tito]

The kitchen crew is all volunteer and they happen to be on the board that runs the club. So they don't take crap from anyone.

I volunteer as well, and that is the exact same attitude that I have, as far as not taking crap from anyone. I've had people try to give me crap a few times over the years. They only tried once.

[MadMike]

So I guess the moral of the story is--Don't talk crap about an employee in hearing distance of other people, because they just might be the sister of that employee or worse: their mother.

Not customer-related, but that reminds me of an incident at a cookout a few months back.

Earlier this year, I made a couple of new friends at a bar where I was hanging out at the time. This girl, who I'll call "T" was working there at the time, was in the process of breaking up with her asshole boyfriend, and shortly afterwards, she hooked up with this guy who was a regular there, who I'll call "H." She's since moved into his place, and they're expecting a child around New Year's.

They live in a small place on a good-sized piece of land, so they often have cookouts where they don't send invites, just "If you know about it, you're welcome to come." We managed to come to one of these back in June or July. There was a lot of food, a lot of beer, and a lot of people.

Apparently someone in H's family didn't like T very much, for whatever reason, and decided to start bad-mouthing her to some random person at the cookout. Unfortunately, the "random person" turned out to be T's mother. I'm surprised she got out of there alive.

[cinema guy]

Old lady: Well I never! I need to speak to your boss!

Me: Mom! Someone needs to talk to you!

That made me choke on my tea.

[napoleana]

Best retaliation ever.

[Amethyst Hunter]

I *love* it when bitchweeds like that get their asses handed to them on a platter!

Good on you for pwning that snotty old bag.

[aurelemsrealm]

That reminds me of a story my mother told about my uncles (her two brothers). This is not a customer-related story, but still fits.

My grandfather gave a hitchhiker a ride one day. This was back in days when it wasn't so dangerous to pick up hitchhikers. This hitchhiker was about the age of my uncles at the time -- late teens/early 20's. Both of these uncles were notorious hell raisers at that age. They both were wild, did their share of drinking, fighting, and sowing their wild oats. Apparently, this hitchhiker had a rivalry going with my uncles. He had no idea that the man who had picked him up was their father. He was running his mouth about going into town to fight some boys from school. Of course, grandpa tried to talk some sense into him about how fighting the other boys does no good. This was before the boy even mentioned who he was fighting. He eventually mentioned their names. Grandpa just kind of laughed, and said he'd heard they were pretty rough and advised the boy he might want to steer clear. Of course, my uncles got their ornery nature from somewhere. As Grandpa stopped to let the boy out, he mentioned that he was the father of those boys. Grandpa said that boy's eyes got wide with shock. Grandpa just laughed and told him it would be best for all of them just to let it go.

[sms001]

OK, this response is going to severely date me. <sigh>Do any of you remember when gas stations gave out premiums for gasoline purchases? Esso (Damn I'm getting older

My favorite was the plastic brontosaurus "piggy" bank I got from Sinclair. The aptness of saving money in something made of plastic given to me by an oil company whose mascot was a dinosaur didn't strike me until yeaaaarrrrs later.

But how did the price of gas (in terms of time worked at a typical wage, rather than raw dollars) back then compare to the price now?

I used to have this "discussion" with my father-in-law pretty frequently. He would start off with a twinkle in his eye with: "A steak dinner only cost......" I could never get him to understand that it is the work you do for something that is its real cost.

Long before I read Walden ("The cost of a thing is the amount of. . .life which is required to be exchanged for it...) I used to try and put prices into terms of how much I had to work to get things. If I met someone from another country, instead of asking how their currency compared to the dollar, I would ask them how long it took them to earn a loaf of bread....

In 1965 the average U.S. worker made $6,882 and gas was $.31 a gallon so they spent .0045% of their income on a hundred gallons.
In 2007 average income is $46,326, gas (as of yesterday), $2.78 making one hundred gallons .0060% of yearly earnings, or 1/3rd more expensive.
But even that small difference is really apples and oranges at both ends of the equation. On the gas price end, we would typically expect to go a LOT further on our hundred gallons today than in 1965 (22.9 mpg vs. 1965's 14.5). On the earnings end, men work 11.6 hours LESS a week, women around 8 less, so about 9.8 hours less a week to earn that yearly average. After all is said and done:

In 1965 you could expect to go 129 miles for an hour's work. In 2007, about 190 miles. Or, if you wanted to go 100 miles it would cost you 46 minutes of work in 1965, and 31 minutes of work today.

[Becks]

Old lady: Well I never! I need to speak to your boss!

Me: Fine.

I didn't even get up because my boss was walking by at that moment.

Me: Mom! Someone needs to talk to you!

I don't think that could've turned out any better.