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While I was waiting tables at an expensive steak place, I one night saw two middle aged men walk into the dining room. They were dressed really down for our upscale atmosphere, so they stood out immediately. They walked to an empty booth in my section and sat down. I noted that our hostess had not seated them. Sure enough, the hostess came in quickly as they sat down and handed them menus. As she walked back to her post, she told me quietly that they had walked right past her without acknowledging her greeting at all. It luckily was a slow night, so this did not create a problem as there had been no waiting list.
As I turned back to the men, I saw that they had left their table and already were at the salad bar – one for which the waiters delivered chilled, pewter plates to the table when the salad was ordered. I walked up to them and greeted them while they were looking around the salad bar. One finally grunted at me and asked “where in the (fark) did we keep the (gosh darn) plates”. I forced a smile and told him if they would be seated, I would get plates for them. He snorted that they knew what the (heck) they wanted and to move my (rear) and get the (farking) plates. Seeing that this was going to be a rough table, I decided not to press the issue and went to get the plates. As I walked to the kitchen, he yelled (and I mean loudly) that they wanted double Jacks on the rocks too.
I got the plates and told them I would be back with their drinks. By the time I returned from the bar, the two had managed to make their salads without causing too much mess and were seated again. When I asked if they wanted to hear our specials for that night, Number One told me to “just shut the (fark) up about that (stuff)” and bring them two of our large prime ribs, rare. I noticed Number Two had yet to say anything, but had a dumb grin on his face the whole time. At least prime rib was a simple order that would be ready almost immediately after I turned the order in. When I asked what style of potatoes they wanted with their prime ribs, Number One grunted that “baked was the usual, wasn’t it, so what else did I think (they) wanted”. I tried to reply politely that I would be back to check on them in a few moments, then I went into the kitchen.
The two were loud and obnoxious through the whole meal, but only Number One ever addressed me whenever I checked on them. They ate their prime ribs without much fuss, but had three more doubles each while doing so. As I delivered the last round to them and asked if there was anything else I could get for them, Number One told me that what he really needed right then was a hot oil enema, adding that he was so full he probably could squirt it right across the dining room and hit the wall. With this, he raised up one leg and seemed to aim his rear toward that side of the restaurant. He broke wind. Number Two’s grin got even bigger. I just said I would return shortly.
When I saw they were finished and came to take their plates away, I stated, as I usually did to all my tables, that I hoped everything had been to their liking. Number One then let out, “(HECK) NO it wasn’t.” Now I had had enough and said as politely as I was able that I had done everything I could to make their dinner correct and pleasant, and that if something was wrong, they needed to state right then whatever it was. Number One just told me to bring the bill.
When I delivered the bill, Number One pulled out a huge wad of cash from his pocket and started to flip through several hundreds right in front of me. He then said he wanted to make a wager with me. If I could guess within five hundred the total of the cash he was holding, he would give it to me – but if I was wrong, I would owe him twenty-percent of whatever I earned for the next fifteen years. Needless to say, I was not about to take that bet. He then grunted that I was a wimp and that he had over fifty-three hundred in his hand. I wondered why he would have so much cash on him, but let that question slide.
He peeled off almost the exact amount of the bill from that wad, and told me to keep the change as that was all the tip I deserved. By that time, that did not surprise me. Then he and Number Two got up and left. Thankfully, they never graced us again while I worked there.
As I turned back to the men, I saw that they had left their table and already were at the salad bar – one for which the waiters delivered chilled, pewter plates to the table when the salad was ordered. I walked up to them and greeted them while they were looking around the salad bar. One finally grunted at me and asked “where in the (fark) did we keep the (gosh darn) plates”. I forced a smile and told him if they would be seated, I would get plates for them. He snorted that they knew what the (heck) they wanted and to move my (rear) and get the (farking) plates. Seeing that this was going to be a rough table, I decided not to press the issue and went to get the plates. As I walked to the kitchen, he yelled (and I mean loudly) that they wanted double Jacks on the rocks too.
I got the plates and told them I would be back with their drinks. By the time I returned from the bar, the two had managed to make their salads without causing too much mess and were seated again. When I asked if they wanted to hear our specials for that night, Number One told me to “just shut the (fark) up about that (stuff)” and bring them two of our large prime ribs, rare. I noticed Number Two had yet to say anything, but had a dumb grin on his face the whole time. At least prime rib was a simple order that would be ready almost immediately after I turned the order in. When I asked what style of potatoes they wanted with their prime ribs, Number One grunted that “baked was the usual, wasn’t it, so what else did I think (they) wanted”. I tried to reply politely that I would be back to check on them in a few moments, then I went into the kitchen.
The two were loud and obnoxious through the whole meal, but only Number One ever addressed me whenever I checked on them. They ate their prime ribs without much fuss, but had three more doubles each while doing so. As I delivered the last round to them and asked if there was anything else I could get for them, Number One told me that what he really needed right then was a hot oil enema, adding that he was so full he probably could squirt it right across the dining room and hit the wall. With this, he raised up one leg and seemed to aim his rear toward that side of the restaurant. He broke wind. Number Two’s grin got even bigger. I just said I would return shortly.
When I saw they were finished and came to take their plates away, I stated, as I usually did to all my tables, that I hoped everything had been to their liking. Number One then let out, “(HECK) NO it wasn’t.” Now I had had enough and said as politely as I was able that I had done everything I could to make their dinner correct and pleasant, and that if something was wrong, they needed to state right then whatever it was. Number One just told me to bring the bill.
When I delivered the bill, Number One pulled out a huge wad of cash from his pocket and started to flip through several hundreds right in front of me. He then said he wanted to make a wager with me. If I could guess within five hundred the total of the cash he was holding, he would give it to me – but if I was wrong, I would owe him twenty-percent of whatever I earned for the next fifteen years. Needless to say, I was not about to take that bet. He then grunted that I was a wimp and that he had over fifty-three hundred in his hand. I wondered why he would have so much cash on him, but let that question slide.
He peeled off almost the exact amount of the bill from that wad, and told me to keep the change as that was all the tip I deserved. By that time, that did not surprise me. Then he and Number Two got up and left. Thankfully, they never graced us again while I worked there.
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