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Old bitchy women at Bob Evans

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  • Old bitchy women at Bob Evans

    I didn't feel like cooking, so we went out for dinner to Bob Evans. It's kid friendly, the hubby can have breakfast at night (which is a dream come true for him), and if they're happy, I'm happy.

    Unfortunately, as we're eating they seat a trio of old hags right behind us. First they start off rambling on about their various medical issues (thank you for your hemorroid update as I chew, btw), then the Bitchfest 2006 is under way.

    One crone didn't have enough ice. The other had too much. The coffee wasn't hot enough, the pop tasted flat, there were water spots on the silverware, one of the chairs was wobbly, they took too long to add ice to their drink, they took too long to take their order. They special ordered every damn thing. Then the food came- one didn't have enough gravy, the other didn't want her bread toasted, the other's food wasn't hot enough. The waitress finally gave up and the manager proceeded to serve them. Well he did everything wrong too. Still not enough gravy. The other biddy wanted mustard not mayo on the side. The oldest one wanted them to find her sweet pickles as she couldn't stand to eat regular dill pickles. The napkins weren't absorbent enough. They didn't bring enough cream for the coffee. Still not enough gravy. They brought out untoasted bread, but it was REGULAR bread and she wanted texas toast, but not toasted. So they brought that out, and then she complained that her food was cold.

    Situations like this are why I only lasted three days in waitressing. If I ran into these witches when I was waiting tables back in college, I probably would have dumped their food on them, broken off matches in their door locks and slashed their tires (not that I'm endorsing such behavior- I've just calmed down over the years).

    My husband approached both the manager and the waitress and told them they were being much nicer than he would have been, and they've been a bunch of sour pusses from the minute they walked in.

  • #2
    I encountered this last night from the opposite end of the spectrum.

    I went out to my favorite restaurant last night, and seated on the other side of the smallish dining room was a dad and three kids who looked to be somewhere around 8 to 11 years old. The dad was okay -- a little too calm actually, if you ask me. The kids took the cake, though.

    Actually, I'm not sure if they would have taken the cake, as they probably wouldn't have liked it. God knows they didn't like anything else on the menu, and the waitress had to stand there for fifteen minutes while the kids ordered, changed their minds, re-ordered, special ordered, and treated the waitress like an idiot all around.

    Boy 1: And make sure there's no red sauce!

    Waitress: Right. No marinara sauce.

    Boy 1: No, I said no red sauce.

    Boy 2: I want red sauce but not marinara sauce!

    Boy 1: No red sauce!

    Girl: Does that have carbs?

    (What kind of a world are we living in when an 8-year-old girl is asking about "carbs?" I hate that word by the way.)

    Boy 2: I don't want tomato!

    Boy 1: No red sauce!

    The father sat there with the beatific smile of someone who has either achieved some zen-like inner peace, or someone who is very heavily medicated.

    After the watiress got the orders straightened out -- and believe me, there was much, much more to be said about red sauce and tomatoes -- she went away, and the children commenced a very loud, repetitive and galactically stupid conversation about the nature of tornadoes.

    Boy 1: Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad! Remember -- Dad! Remember when I thought that tornadoes were caused by satan spinning around?

    Boy 2: I had a dream about satan spinning around once.

    Boy 1: Didn't we survive a tornado when I was little?

    Dad: We did.

    Boy 1: We probably survived because we were all young and strong.

    Dad: You were a baby.

    And believe me, this was not all there was to be said about tornadoes or satan spinning around, either.

    At last the meals arrived. The girl didn't want hers. She wanted garlic bread instead (so much for carbs), and the boy who was okay with tomatoes discovered tomatoes in his entree, which caused him to let out a shriek that made the windows flex and letting the world know that he really wasn't okay with tomatoes. Not at all. Then the other boy began complaining that something was soggy.

    At this point I had to leave, as I had run out of dessert to keep me occupied, and to keep me from wishing that someone would stuff a towel in each of those kids' mouths. And so, I wasn't able to follow the conversation any further, which is a shame, as I was hoping the gently smiling father might reveal just what he'd been shooting himself up with earlier in the day.
    Drive it like it's a county car.

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    • #3
      Ah yes, kids and the elderly. My two biggest nightmares back in the waitressing days.
      Actually, kids were usually fine if the parents just ordered for them. I don't know many eight-year olds who will be able to look at a menu listing over thirty entrees and be able to make up their minds. Hell, its difficult for adults sometimes. The best parents picked two appropriate, healthy choices off the menu, and asked "Would you like A or B?" Kids can do that, no problem.
      The elderly, on the other hand, knew EXACTLY what they wanted, they wanted it JUST SO, they wanted it NOW, and they wanted it CHEAP. And even if you managed to pull it all off to their satisfaction, you were still only going to get a 5 percent tip. The futility of it all often left me rocking myself in the fetal position by the end of the day.

      If you have to ask, it's probably better posted at www.fratching.com

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      • #4
        Quoth hauntedheadnc View Post
        Boy 1: Remember when I thought that tornadoes were caused by satan spinning around?
        In some way that makes sense, but why was the other kid having a dream about Satan?

        Somehow, I don't think one galaxy can contain the stupidity there...
        "I am quite confident that I do exist."
        "Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense. You're just not keeping up." The Doctor

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        • #5
          Quoth Boozy View Post
          And even if you managed to pull it all off to their satisfaction, you were still only going to get a 5 percent tip.
          I posted something about this on one of the earlier incarnation of this board.

          A friend of mine worked as a waitress in a seafood restaurant that also had a bar. One day, a group of six old ladies came in for lunch. They ordered expensive platters, ran up big bar tabs, the whole nine yards.

          The waitress was a total pro, serving them with expertise and wonderful customer service. The old ladies noticed this too. So much so, that they decided to leave her more of a tip than what they considered "customary".

          The total bill came to $135 and change. These old women left her a whopping $2 tip!!! Because she did an "excellent" job serving them, and decided that she had earned a "bonus" for all of her hard work.

          This happened in my current state of residence, Pennsylvania, which unfortunately is the capital of cheap old people in this country.
          I'm Schizophrenic, and So Am I!

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          • #6
            Yeah, similar stuff happened to me when I was working at the Olive Garden. I remember this family came in with the grandparents. They country as pumpkin pie, the sort of people who think the Olive Garden is fine dining. The were okay to wait on, nice enough. I don't remember what the bill was, but the grandfather came up to me after, thanked me, and made a big show of giving me a buck tip because I'd done such a good job.

            What can you really do?

            Then there are the people who round the bill up to the nearest dollar and tell you to "keep the change" in the magnanimous tone of someone who thinks they are doing you a favor.

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