Sunday, October 9, 2011

Horror/Whore Stories

I don't do this very often, but I am actually promoting someone else for a freakin' change. Hopefully karma will come around and someone will promote me too. Honestly, what does a bitchy waiter have to do to get some promotion other than the the self kind?

FoodServiceWarehouse.com is having a contest and they are offering a $100 gift card from Amazon. Their prize is much better than my broke down shitty ass $25 gift card I gave away for my contest. (Thanks, FoodServiceWarehouse.com for making me look like a cheap bitch, but I will promote you anyway because I am cool like that.) You can go here for all the details. Basically, they are looking for horror stories that happened in your restaurant. And just to clarify, it's horror stories not whore stories so don't be writing some cute little vignette about that chick with the cold sore who gives blow jobs out by the dumpster for $10. Well, actually, that is a horror story in itself, so do whatever you want. It's not my contest...

If you send a story in (and you totally should, but good luck because you know my poor ass is already composing something) you might want to mention that you heard about it from The Bitchy Waiter. That way, they'll know that I really tried to help them out a bit and maybe they will throw me some appreciation in the form of a gift card to TequilaIsUs.com. (I can't believe you clicked that...)

So there you have it. Someone else is having a contest. I may be having another of my own soon. I am thinking of a photo contest asking people to send in pictures that happen at work; the more daring the picture the better. Like a picture of that annoying fat ass who shows up one minute before closing:

Or a picture of the mess that the ugly baby with the dent in his head left at table 17 when he "ate" crackers. You get the idea? But that's another contest.

Thanks,
BW



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Saturday, October 8, 2011

A Comment on Comments

Last year I wrote a blog post regarding Cracker Barrel. It was a positive , upbeat, praise-my-waitress kind of post so who in the world would take issue with it? I'll tell you who: my arch nemesis (other than Reichen), Anonymous. Observe:

first off, you're an idiot. i work at Cracker Barrel and the stars DO NOT signify how many years you've been employed and you are a LIAR because you have NEVER seen 7 stars ANYWHERE. The highest you can achieve is FOUR!!! and that is based on your level of numbers you produce per hour for the store you work in!!! Don't talk about stuff you don't know about.

Ouch, Anonymous, why so harsh? i must commend Anonymous on her spelling and punctuation while her use of capitals needs some polishing. i stand corrected. The stars DO NOT represent the number of years the waitress has worked there!!! i guess i did not actually see a waitress with seven stars then. Maybe i dreamed it in the most perfect dream ever where i was sitting on a pile of biscuits next to a maple syrup waterfall while a waitress made of bacon fed me cheesy hash browns with a fork made of BUTTER!!! Thank you for the clarification, Anonymous, but here's my beef. Why the hell are you so upset about it? Chill the hell out, lady. i understand the level of pride you must have for the Barrel of Cracker for i too would be bursting at the seams with pride if i got to wear one of those brown polyester apron with the yellow embroidered STARS!!! i truly am a liar, liar pants on fire, hang it on a wire, liar asshole face. i totally deserve the scolding from you. How dare i misrepresent what the STARS mean at CRACKER BARREL!! i will no longer talk about stuff i don't know, i promise. (That is another lie, by the way).

Good luck, Anonymous and thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to clarify the whole star ISSUE. Many a sleepless night has passed with me in bed pondering if the blog post i wrote over a year ago was accurate or not. i sure do appreciate YOUR comment. Thank you. i mean, THANK YOU!!!



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Thursday, October 6, 2011

Say Cheese, Asshole

I have a new job which is keeping me quite busy for a few weeks. With no time to write today, I decided to post this old story from the first day at my last job. Yes, I said I have a new job, but never you fear. I am keeping both of my other jobs too. I will now have three jobs because I am desperate to prove I am not a lazy ass. In time, I will give some details about the new job. In the meantime, please enjoy this post about this asshole who made me hate him on my first day of work. -BW


My first day at my new job went off without a hitch with the exception of one huge asshole who sat at table 24. Do they follow me? Am I an asshole magnet? My fellow co-workers were shocked that this guy treated me the way he did. "We never get people like that. I am so sorry you had to deal with him." Poor me, destined to deal with assholes no matter where I work. I may as well be a fucking proctologist.

So this place I work at now is pretty nice. Did I mention we have candles? Yeah, candles. Most of the folks that come in for the shows are prepared to drop a pretty penny for the cover charge and the two-drink minimum. But this guy was different. He plopped his fat ass at his seat. I gave him the shpiel about how he had to have two drinks while there and how helpful it would be to tell me both of them now so as not to interrupt him during the performance. "Do you gots Bud Light?" Being new to the job and seeing that he had a list of beers in front of him, I paused and told him I wasn't sure. I looked at the list and said, "No, sorry just Amstel Light and Sam Adams Light." He informed me that he would have an Amstel Light.

"Alright, sir. And would you like that for your second drink as well?"

"I dunno." Long pause as he stared at me. "I'll tell you what I do want though. Get the biggest glass you have. Fill it with ice. Then fill it with water. Then put a lemon in it. I want two of those right now." I make my way to another table and he calls me again. "Do you have any food?" I suppose he doesn't understand the purpose of the menu sitting in front of him.

"Yes sir, we do. I have hummus and pita chips, spinach artichoke dip-"

"No, no no. Food. Real food."

"That is food sir. We do consume that."

"Meat. Do you have any food that is meat?"

I was staring to hate this guy. "Then no sir, we don't have any food."

"What kind of food do you have then?"

I have now crossed the line from starting to hate this guy to actually hating this guy. I reiterated our food options and he finally agreed on the cheese plate and then berated me for not knowing the price without looking at the menu. He almost choked when I told him how expensive it was, but he ordered it. The table next to him told me "good luck" as I went to ring in his order. He yelled out to me he also wanted a shot of Jack Daniels. When I brought out his beer, shot and two waters (which he never touched) he told me he needed a Coke chaser and he was not paying for it because where he comes from you just automatically get a Coke chaser with a shot of Jack and he was not paying for it and he would not be paying for it. Got it, ass. Fine.

Halfway through the show he leaves his seat to come to the bar and complain that he is dissatisfied with his cheese plate. He was not paying for a plate of crackers with one piece of cheese. He would not be paying for it. Got it, fine. Meanwhile the other server went to retrieve said cheese plate and showed him several pieces of cheese that were still on it proving that it did have more than one piece as he claimed. "Well, I don't like swiss!" (It was edam.) "And I don't know what those other cheeses are!" (They were gouda and brie.) I guess he just didn't recognize his old stalwart cheeses of American, cheddar and Whiz.

We took the cheese plate of his bill. After the show, he walked around the room talking to some of his friends and ignoring me as I waited to accept payment. About fifteen minutes later I hear the other server calling after him as he walked toward the door. "Sir, are you going to pay your check??" Asshole laughed. "Oh my Lord. I totally forgot about it. I'm sorry. How much do I owe you? Hardy har har."

I ran his credit card and you know what the asshole did? On a $49 check, he left me ten bucks; a totally surprising 20% tip. I swear to God, I just don't get people.



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Wednesday, October 5, 2011

That Famous Guy Left a Big Tip

Does anyone know who Sean Parker is without Googling him first? The name is familiar and you know you have heard it, but you're not quite sure why you know it. My first thought was that he is Spiderman's alter ego, but that's Peter Parker. And then I thought he was that actor from the American Pie movies, but that's Sean William Scott. Who the fuck is Sean Parker? Oh, yeah, he's the guy who had something to do with Facebook and Justin Timberlake played him in Social Network. Well, he's rich because he tipped a waitress $5,000 on a $6,000 check last week.

According to the Internet (so you know it's true) he partied at West Hollywood’s Beverly Club with friends Clark Kent, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne and Tara Reid. The bar tab was $6,000 because Diana and Tara were doing body shots off of each other and they went through 21 bottles of Belvedere Vodka and a case of Red Bull. The one time I was at the Beverly, I don't recall it being that expensive. It was real nice though. It had a pool and a complimentary basket of chips and was surrounded by palm trees. It is possible I am thinking of a different Beverly though, so don't quote me. I stayed at the Beverly Garland Holiday Inn once so that might be what I am thinking. So this Sean guy has money flowing out of his butt like an ATM and he wanted to be generous, right? Or was it that the cocktail waitress had really big boobies and he was trying to impress her? Hmmm, I wonder which one it was:


Waitress: Is there anything else I can get you tonight?
Sean: Do you know who I am?
Waitress: Um, no I'm afraid I don't, but would you like anything else tonight?
Sean: You're pretty.
Waitress: Thank you very much. But seriously, do you need anything?
Sean: You have great tits. You sure you don't know who I am?
Waitress: Okay, I give up. Who are you?
Sean: Ever hear of Napster?
Waitress: Yeah, why?
Sean: I invented that.
Waitress: Oh my God, you did? That's amazing. I have one of them. My cat loves it.
Sean: I'm sorry, what? Your cat has one?
Waitress: Aren't you talking about the combination sleeping hammock/scratching post/cat nip dispenser thingy they sell at K-Mart?
Sean: No, Napster was an online music sharing site that I created.
Waitress: Oh, I always get those confused. That's cool, but I heard that you were just an early employee of Napster and that it was actually developed by Sean and John Fanning and you tried to take credit for it...
Sean: Never mind. I was the president of Facebook. Justin Timberlake played me in the movie The Social Network. Pretty cool, right?
Waitress: Yeah, I don't use Facebook. Is there anything else you need because I am wrapping it up here. Your check is $6.000, so if I could just get a credit card or something...
Sean: Sure, babe, yeah. Here, just put it on my black American Express card and put a $5,000 tip on there for yourself, alright? Did I mention you have pretty boobies?
Waitress: Oh, thanks. I'm a model.
Sean: So just put that $5,000 tip on there, alright?
Waitress: I will, thanks.

(two minutes pass)

Waitress: Here's your card Mr. Parker. And thanks for the tip, that's really sweet of you.
Sean: Yeah, well, I'm rich. I was president of Facebook.
Waitress: So you said.
Sean: And there's plenty more where that came from...if you know what I mean. Nice tits, man, I mean, seriously.
Waitress: Yeah, thanks nerd. Good night.

So I suspect that Sean Parker was flashing his money around and trying to impress everyone. Since no one knows who the fuck he is by looking at him, his only choice is to constantly remind people that he is important. Meanwhile, the waitress is at the bank depositing her money and planning on another boob job. I wish Sean Parker would sit in my station. I could use a $5,000 tip, that's for sure. My tits may not be as nice as the waitress's but at least I would know who Sean Parker was if he sat in my station.

Bitchy Waiter: Hey, you're that guy that Justin Timberlake played in that movie, right?
Sean: Yes! Yes, I am! I'm Sean Parker!
Bitchy Waiter: Cool! Can I have $5,000 now please?





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Sunday, October 2, 2011

Louise's Story (Frat Boys and Margaritas)

My friend "Louise" told me a story about how she got a shitty tip at her Mexican restaurant job. The bill was $93 and she got four bucks and eventually five more making it a solid 10%. This is my version of her story:

It was long tough night at Big Brother Bubba's Burrito Bar Buffet and Mexican Style Olde Timey Cantina where Louise had been punching the clock for five years. Bubba's was a nice neighborhood Mexican restaurant with good food, good service and a good staff. One of Louise's co-workers had called in sick and there was no one to cover for her, so Louise had the whole restaurant to herself. It was a tall order, but for a Tuesday night, it would be okay. The tips that night were average. Despite stellar service, for Louise knew no other way to serve, she was getting 12-15% at every table. "What the hell?" she thought. "Is rent due today? Did the stock market crash? Why is no one giving me the 20% I am earning?" She shrugged it off and headed to her next table.

It was a four-top; three frat boys and a young woman with blond hair and dark roots and she was wearing a t-shirt that said "Men are like snow storms: you never know when they're coming, how many inches you'll get or how long they'll last." She was a real class act. Each of the frat boys were wearing their caps backward because they thought it looked cool when really it just looked stupid as fuck. They sucked down a few margaritas and asked for more free chips and salsa too many times, but Louise served them with a smile because she is a real pro. When she set their bill down, the check came to a total of $93.00. She saw that they were having difficulty dividing the bill; some had cash and some had credit cards and all of them were drunk bitches with no recollection of simple math skills or the ability to use the calculator app on their phones. They finally handed her a a pile of cash and one credit card.

"Here's sixty dollars in cash and put the rest on this credit card," the wannabe blond slurred out.

Louise touched on her own nose in the hope that it would signal to the girl that she should wipe the salt off of her face. The girl didn't pick up the hint and Louise went on her way. Moments later, after the group had stumbled out, Louise saw that that the credit card slip had a four dollar tip scrawled onto it. "Four freakin' dollars? Four? Are you kiddin' me? After all those chips, they're gonna give me four feakin' dollars on a $93 bill?? Uh uh." She headed to the sidewalk to find the dumb fucks and ask them if there was some non-existent problem with the service.

On the street, she saw two of the frat boys smoking cigarettes, leaning on each other because they were both a little drunk and the shorter one had always admired the taller one's calf muscles yet he only seemed to notice them when he had been drinking and he thought this was a good time to tell him how attractive his legs looked, no homo.

"Hey!" Louise said. "Four dollars? Are your feakin' kiddin' me? Are you kiddin' me here?"

Shorter Frat Boy quickly pulled away from his friend and thrust his hands into his pockets. "What, we weren't doing anything, I didn't even notice his sinewy calf muscles and I have never been attracted to a man in my entire life, what?" There was an awkward silence. "I mean, what was that you were saying, miss?"

"On a $93 check, you're gonna leave me four bucks? Why? Why?"

Taller Frat Boy, who had moved away from his friend by at least six inches, said, "Our friend was supposed to leave more of a tip on the credit card. She didn't?"

"No, she didn't. She left me four dollars."

"I'm sorry. She's a real cheap skank. I hate her." Taller Frat Boy reached into his pocket and dug around for more cash. He couldn't help but notice that Shorter Frat Boy was eyeing him as he did it. Shorter Frat Boy's line of vision moved from his friend's crotch and then to his eyes, catching him staring back at him. Shorter Frat Boy said abruptly in a lower than usual voice, "Dude, I fuckin' love football, don't you?"

"Look, this is all I have, five more dollars, take it." He handed the money to Louise and ignored his friend who seemed to be adjusting his crotch.

"Great, so now we've made it a 10% tip, thanks so much," she said, the sarcasm dripping in much the same way that Shorter Frat Boy's penis was dripping with pre-cum.

Neither Louise nor the Frat Boys noticed that a few feet away was someone with their flip cam recording the scene because the young videographer felt that it could lead to an altercation that would be fun to send to Facebook later.

"10% is a crappy tip, just so you know. You think it's easy working at Big Brother Bubba's Burrito Bar Buffet and Mexican Style Olde Timey Cantina? Well, it isn't. I depend on tips because in New york State, my wage is $5.oo an hour and all of it goes to taxes, so my check is never more than twenty bucks. Next time you go out to dinner, you best make sure you have enough money to leave a freakin' tip, alright? Or just stay out of my restaurant."

The girl with the camera made sure the sign to Bubba's was in the background.

Taller Frat Boy began to say something but before he could, Louise continued. "Save your breath, save your apologies and save me the misfortune of ever having to wait on you again. Go away and don't come back, alright? Fucking douche bags. You make my balls ache and I don't even have any!!"

At this point, Shorter Frat Boy said, "I know what you mean about balls aching. I feel like mine are-"

Louise interrupted him. "And you need to get laid. I've been watching you stare at your friend all freakin' night. Get a room already, Jesus. Yeah," she said to Taller Frat Boy. "Your friend here has the hots for you. Do yourself a favor and let him go down on ya already. Jeez, it's so freakin' obvious." Louise spun on her heels and went back to work.

Girl With the Camera continued filming and saw Shorter Frat Boy melt into a pool of tears and then turn and run down the street screaming, 'I love women. I love football. I am a heterosexual male!" Taller Frat Boy then threw up for the camera and the girl knew she had something good to put on the Internet.

Ten minutes later, the video was posted on YouTube, Facebook, Google+ and MySpace and had over a 1,000 views. Everyone wanted to see it. By the next day it had over 25,000 views and by the end of the week it had been featured on D-Listed, Perez Hilton and Broke Straight Boys. The two frat boys were infamous and so was Louise. For the next three months, Big Brother Bubba's Burrito Bar Buffet and Mexican Style Olde Timey Cantina was packed with people wanting to sit in Louise's station. Everyone was eager to meet the woman who had made a frat boy cry and they all wanted to leave her big fat tips. It all turned out perfectly. Well, except for the two frat boys. Taller One eventually married the wannabe blond cheap skank bitch and Shorter One joined a pray-the gay-away clinic that was owned by Michele Bachmann's totally not gay husband, Marcus.

But for Louise, it tuned out great.



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