I Am Not an Animal, Part Two

I am not an animal. I may not be Brad Pitt, but I am not an animal. (If you have not seen me before, then I am in fact a dead ringer for Brad Pitt when he was in Thelma and Louise. Seriously, a dead ringer.) Everyone must have feelings of self doubt and insecurity but sometimes in this world people just bitch slap you in the face with a hearty dose of reality soup and make any self esteem that you may have once had plummet into a canyon of nothingness. I have even written about this before. A friend of mine was telling me how she was sick of looking for a new waiting job and it reminded me of something that happened to me a few years ago.

I was in Chelsea walking up and down Eighth Avenue going into every restaurant and dropping of my resume. I came across a sign in a window that made my heart skip a beat because it actually said that they were hiring. Finally, my resume would go into the hands of someone who cared. When I walked in, I noticed two guys filling out applications at the bar. They were both your typical Chelsea boy: gay, muscly, hot and modelesque. Pulling out my resumé, I head to the bar and ask to fill out an application. With all the years of experience in my back pocket, the application seemed like a mere formality. "Hi, I'd like to fill out an application for the server position." The tanned and toned bartender looked at me and paused. He rolled his eye-lined eyes a bit and, "Oh, we're not hiring anymore." I looked at the guy to the left of me diligently filling out his application and then looked at the guy to the right of me filling out his. They both seemed to be figuring out how to spell their own names. Models are dumb. "I'm sorry, what? I asked. The bartender said, "Yeah we're not accepting anymore applications because the position has been filled." I scratched my head and looked at the applications being filled out not two feet away from me. "But you have a sign that says you're hiring." Pause. "Nope, not anymore. Position's been filled." I started to protest and realized that any words I said would be falling upon deaf ears. The words would be landing in the same place that the two hot guys would be landing their facials later. And I was fairly certain that the position wasn't the only thing that was going to be filled that day. With a bad case of sour grapes, I left the restaurant. I didn't wanna work there anyway. Right? Assholes.

With my self-worth in the gutter, I went out to Coney Island and filled out an application for the freak show.

Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter blog.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.

Frazzled But Happy Stay at Home Mom

Oh dear readers, maybe you read my last posts here or here, but I have just been so busy lately that there simply has not been time to write again. What with school starting next week for the oldest, I have been up to my eyeballs in preparation. So much to do. And I love it! LOL! Last night was back to school night at the elementary school and hubby and I went there to meet Suzy Lou's teacher and get her school supply list. Well, the funniest thing happened and you will not believe it. Or maybe you will, LOL. All we knew was that the teacher's name was Miss O'Brady. I certainly didn't know her because we were told this was her first year as a teacher at this school. (Someone told me she had been somewhere else last year, but changed schools for some unknown reason.) I dropped hubby off at the front entrance while I found a parking space for the minivan. (yes, I drove so that hubby was able to take a nap. The poor dear works so hard at the office.) When I walked towards Miss O'Brady's class room, I could hear laughing and joking and I was so eager to join the fun. I walked into the classroom and Miss O'Brady was sitting in hubby's lap and giggling as he tickled her. She was saying, "Oh Robert, you bad boy, stop it!" When they saw me walk in they both stopped laughing and I must admit I was a little bit confused. Within seconds hubby explained it all to me. It turns out that he used to babysit Miss O'Brady when she was little and they lived in the same neighborhood and they were just reliving the good ol' days. Isn't that an amazing coincidence? It's a small world, after all! I just know that Suzy Lou is going to have the best school year ever since we already have such a wonderful relationship with her teacher. Aren't I lucky to have such a wonderful husband who maintains friendships from so long ago?? (I love you hubby, if you're reading this! And if you are reading this, get back to work! JK. LOL!)

I must go now. I have to get to Wal-Mart to buy school supplies and I also need some new Shout stain remover. Hubby came home with lipstick on his collar again last night. Silly man! He's so clumsy that at least one a week he manages to let that happen. This time, he was helping a lady change her tire on the freeway and when he stopped to help her she hugged him. That must be how it happened. Oh well, at least it wasn't his fault. He was just helping a damsel in distress. My very own Prince Charming. Last week though, he tripped at the drug store and fell into he makeup counter. Be careful, dear! I love you too much to have you break your neck! LOL!


Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter blog.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.

A Response to "Foreigners Don't Tip"

When I wrote about how many times foreigners don't tip, I expected plenty of response from other waiters who were like, "no shit, Sherlock." Sorry, foreigners, it's true. A few people from other countries wrote to tell me that the articled had schooled them and they would be sure to tip correctly the next time they visit these shores. What surprised me was the people who were like, "yep, I'm foreign and I don't tip. Deal with it." Oh , hell no.

A Finlandian writes: I'm from Europe and no we do not tip. The way we think: "The waiters get their salary, and hey, the drinks were expensive enough". When I'm in US, I'm aware of the tipping system. But I too would leave just 3 bucks (considering that I only bought some drinks). 15% is waaay too much! For instance, if I spend fairly much on a couple of meals in a restaurant, with the 15% tip, I could already by myself another dessert at least.

Sorry.

What the fuck? I mean, I like your vodka and everything, but you're telling me that you know you should be tipping but you don't do it anyway because we already get our salary and you could buy a dessert instead? 15% is way too much I guess because we are already getting that huge paycheck each week for $8.00. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, I give you reasonable cause to hate it when anyone from Finland sits in your station. Had there been a photo of the reader attached to the comment, it would be plastered all over this page so everyone knows who to avoid.

Another reader comments: Sorry, tipping's difficult when it's not customary. I usually stick to $5 when I come over. Fuck working out 15% - if we're not from America, we're on holiday. Who does maths on holiday? Sorry bitchy waiter ... my family do tip ... just gotta hope we don't spend more than $50 at once, right?

Okay, so this person just claims math deficiency as the reason they don't tip? God forbid if he is on fucking holiday that he pulls out his iPhone with a calculator on it and figures out how to leave a decent tip. It's just a $5.00 blanket tip all around no matter what the bill is, is that it? Because math is too hard to. "Gee whiz, math is tough and I'm a cheapskate. Bloody good and cheers, mate." Fuck that shit. And ladies and gentleman, I give you reason number two to hate the tourists from other lands.

Attention tourists from other lands: please help break the stereotype. If you're on vacation, leave 15% to your server. It will only make it better for the next tourist from other lands who visit and maybe someday we can all love each other like one big happy family. World peace starts with a 15% tip. Remember that.

Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter blog.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.

McDonald's/Road Rage

Have we all seen this crazy fucking McDonald's addict who loses her shit when she finds out she can't get McNuggets? Supposebly, she was there before 10:30 in the morning and they were only serving breakfast. Well, this ho wasn't going to have that. She briefly considered filling out a comment card and then calling the McDonald's customer service hot line, but then she decided it would be better if she just out out of her car and started beating the shit out of the drive thru window clerk.

I have never had the misfortune of working in fast food. There was a summer after college where I made daily trips to Burger King and Dairy Queen (the royal "we") when I probably should have been put on their payroll, but never have I been officially. With my vast food service experience, if I ever take a foray into fast food, I would probably shoot right up the corporate ladder and be a shift leader immediately. Anyhoo, back to the video. This bitch is crazy for McNuggets but that McDonald's worker is ready for the fight. I particularly like when she grabs that trick's hair and tries to detach it from her head. And then they get the manager up in there too to fight the good fight. Out of everything though, the best part of the video is when she finally flees the scene and the next car drives like nothing happened up and is all, "Can I get a number two combo please? Super size me." The worst part of the video? No audio. In my mind, it goes something like this:

Driver: I want McNuggets.
McD's: We ain't got those. How 'bout a McGriddle?
Driver: I want McNuggets.
McD's: We ain't got those right now. How 'bout a hashbrown?
Driver: Don't make me cut you.
McD's: How 'bout a McMuffin?
Driver: I am gonna kick you ass bitch.
McD's: Manager! Manager!
Driver: (beating her) I'm gonna kick your ass, bitch. I want fucking McNuggets.
McD's: Bitch, I got your hair now, what you gonna do now, huh? What chu gonna do?
Driver: I'm gonna smash the fucking window with my hand and if I can't do that, I'm gonna get in my car and find something else to smash it with. Arrrg!
McD's: How 'bout an apple pie?
Driver: Arrg! (smashes window and drives away)
McD's: Thank you and have a nice day.

Anyone here work at McDonald's and care to share your viewpoint?


Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter blog.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.

Dear Bitchy Waiter

Dear Bitchy Waiter,
I need your advice. I have just left my usual spot after receiving half-ass drinks all night from the bartender with the lovely face and ample bosom. After asking to cash out she proceeded to wait on many male patrons and when she finally returned to me with my card and receipt she popped attitude. Should I have clotheslined her like I wanted to?

~Donda

Dear Donda,
I can see how tempting it would have been to wait for this bartender's shift to end, follow her home in order to learn her address and then head over to 7-11 for a carton of eggs to pelt her house with. Very tempting indeed. I do not recommend ever doing this no matter how much fun it would be and how many wonderful memories you would have for the rest of your life. (And on a side note, an open apology to Mrs. Deheul, my 12th grade drama teacher: I'm sorry I pelted your house with eggs even though it was really fun and I am still carrying around those memories from that magical evening.) Donda, you should just let this girl be. We all know she was spending all her attention on the men folk because her big titties were going to help her get bigger tips. Can't says I blame her. I guess she didn't feel like it was worth it to pay attention to you even though there was a hefty Double D tip in it for her. What goes around comes around. Just last week I ate dinner at a bar and the hot young (male) bartender kept ignoring me as he poured attention on all the single ladies. Fine, whatever. But when he gave me my check, the dumbass had forgotten to ring in all four of my cocktails. They were $11.50 each. He fucked up because he was too busy with the hos he thought would tip him more. Did I tell him? Nope. It's happened to all of us. I left him a 30% tip on what he did charge me but it could have been so much more. Never fear. The bartender that dissed you will have her chance at getting dissed in return.

Love,
The Bitchy Waiter

Rise and Shine, Bitchy Waiter

Oh it's so early for me to be up. How do people wake up at the crack of ass to serve breakfast? Not being a morning person (or afternoon person and not so much of a night person either) getting up before 7:30 AM is one tough cookie. My alarm went off this morrow at precisely 7:30 AM so that I could get to my job o' the day which is selling jewelry at a Gift Fair. (Don't ask, but I will be selling pottery for the next four days...). When I venture out my door at this ungodly hour what shall I see? Milkmen and paper delivery boys? Roosters walking around saying, "cock a doodle doo, bitch, it's early" and farmers off to milk cows? Will the air be fresher as the gentle fresh breeze of the new day whispers sweet nothings to me? Will I finally meet the morning shift of homeless people? Will I get a seat on the goddamn 7 train? I dunno what the world is like at this time.

I lived with a friend (hey Kimmy!) who used to serve the early breakfast shift every day. She rolled her ass outta bed at something like 4:30 every morning. The only good thing about it was she was done with work at 11:00 right when I was waking up and it always made me so jealous. And then the tables turned around at night when it was only 8:00 and she was having to go to bed before Melrose Place (the original one with Dr. Kimberly Shaw) even started. Life ain't easy for us mornin' risers. It just ain't. And what time did you get your ass up today?

Knit One, Pearl Two

I went out to dinner Thursday night for some much needed organic hamburger action and Berry Cosmos. I chowed down on that burger but used a fork and knife because I am so dainty and shit. Sitting at the bar and scanning the room to check out all the servers and pity them because they were at work and having to drink their Berry Cosmos out of paper cups hidden behind computers while I drank mine out in the open, my gaze fell upon a nine-top that was seated a few tables away. The woman at the end of the table appeared to be knitting. I was all, "who the fuck is knitting in a restaurant?" when I realized the answer was the other eight people she was sitting with. These bitches was all having a freaking knitting circle at the restaurant. They weren't even old ladies, although that would have only made a little bit more sense. These women were in their late 20's/early 30's and knit one pearl two-in' all over the place. Allow me to correct myself. There were eight ladies knitting and one man knitting. The man really fit in with his handlebar mustache and big gold hoop earring. Was this a bad dream? Was I really seeing a man with a handlebar mustache knitting while I am sitting a few feet away in a reasonably hip restaurant and having a cocktail?

When the waiter came out with their food he was forced to wait a couple of minutes while they slowly put away their yarn and needles and finished up the row they were each working on. Now I am not a mind reader, but I am pretty sure that the waiter was thinking, "Hurry up and put your shit away so I can put down your goddamn food. What the fuck are you doing here anyway? You're in a freakin' knitting circle. Shouldn't you be at a retirement home or in 1940?" Again, I am not psychic, but I got that vibe from the airwaves. They finally cleared away their crafts and stared eating. Well, all except for Handlebar Harry. He kept knitting. I guess it was imperative that he finished his masterpiece sofa throw right then and there and food be damned! Eventually, he ate a little bit, but you could see in his eyes that he would rather be knitting. As the rest of the table finished their food and the waiter cleared the table, the knitting came out again.

Perhaps this is the new social thing. Did I miss the mass Facebook message that told me that knitting in large groups at public places is cool? If so, I will jump right on board with it because I desperately seek attention. The next time I go to brunch, I will be taking all my scrapbooking supplies. Mimosas and crafts. What can be better?

Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter blog.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.