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Wherein I Wish You Were a Steak...
...so I could stab you and no one would notice. (Or care.)
Behold, my first group of true assholes in a couple of weeks:
Drunken, belligerent father: DBF
Son: S
Daughter: D
Drunken father comes in with his two snake eyed children. They sit, and promptly order two sodas and...something I can't understand:
Me: I'm sorry, what was that?
DBF: blahblahbudblahbeerblahbottle
Me: What? I still can't understand you.
DBF: I said, blahbudbottle
Me: So you want a Budweiser? Just in the bottle, or -
DBF: In the bottle. A bud, in the bottle.
Me: Right...(thinking: Cos I could really understand your drunken mutterings...)
I return with the beverages, and somehow DBF has disappeared. His children inform me that he's ventured off to the smoking section to gamble for a bit and he will return upon the arrival of their food. Or until he's lost all the money in his bank account.
So, the two siblings order:
Son: My dad wants the flat iron steak with shrimp *points at menu* and clam chowder.
Me: Okay, sure. And what would you like?
Son: I want the chicken fried steak breakfast with four eggs and french toast. It's important, I want four eggs - two scrambled and two over easy. And, I want a LOT of potatoes. A lot. Give me a mountain.
Me: Um...right.
Son: I want a lot of food, I'm hungry.
Me: Okay...
Son: And four eggs.
Me: I got that, thanks. *turns to snake eyed sister* What would you like tonight?
Sister: I want the 16 oz t-bone platter please.
Me: How would you like your eggs?
Sister: I actually don't want eggs.
Me: Ok, no problem. Would you like extra potatoes instead?
Sister: Okay, sure.
Son: I want your eggs.
Me: You mean, instead of ordering two extra?
Son: Yeah, give me her eggs instead.
Me: Okay, that will save you some money.
After I finish taking their order, I go and put it in the computer as such:
T bone breakfast, eggs OE, white toast - eggs on separate plate
chicken fried steak, eggs scrambled, french toast
side of hash browns
flatiron steak, potatoes, chowder
Time passes, I take their food out, and DBF has returned to the table:
Me: *putting down plates* Okay, here's your t-bone with extra potatoes, and here's your eggs - on a separate plate so that your brother could eat them instead. And here's your chicken fried steak breakfast with french toast, a side of hash browns, and your OE eggs, and here's the flatiron with the potatoes and shrimp.
Son: Where's my extra eggs?
Me: I thought you said that you were going to eat your sister's eggs instead of paying to have the extra.
Son: *points at plate* I have two OE eggs, but where's my other eggs?!
Me: *points at the little plate holding the two eggs that are scrambled* These are your eggs. I thought you agreed to eat your sister's eggs because she didn't want them.
Son: No, I want my eggs!
Sister: I told you (name) that you could eat my eggs. I don't want them. I thought we agreed on that.
Son: *looks at scrambled eggs* *SILENCE*
DBF: This is it?! *looks at his steak* This puny little thing is what I paid almost $11 for!?
Me: You have a different kind of steak than your daughter, sir. You have a flat iron steak, which is a much smaller portion than the t-bone.
DBF: I'm paying $11 for this steak!? *looks at steak, looks pointedly at me*
Me: You're getting a full meal for $11. You're actually paying about $5 for the steak itself.
DBF: *says nothing, but stares at the steak, then stares at me. Repeats this a couple of times*
Me: Would you like another flatiron? You could have two of them then.
DBF: How much is a steak?
Me: The flatiron runs for $5.
DBF: HELL NO! I'm not paying $5 for this shit!
Me: Um, would you like a t-bone instead?
DBF: Not if it's going to be this small!
Me: (trying not to laugh at that last comment) A t-bone is 16 oz, and the flatiron steak is 7 oz. It's a much smaller, better quality steak than the t-bone.
DBF: Whatever! If you can't help me, leave!
Me: Okay....*leaves happily*
And then, the suck kept continuing. Every time I went back to the table, he complained about something. What color the sky was, how his child didn't get his eggs like he wanted, if it was too cold in the restaurant, if his bowel movements were irregular....It got pretty old. Soon I was told to go on break, so I went.
Apparently, while I was gone, DBF barged up to the front register and refused to pay for any of the meals. He was pissed that he had to pay more than $20 for three HUGE meals. (His bill was around $40.) He cussed out the hostess, proceeded to cuss out the server that went to rescue her, and then yelled at the manager.
Also, he was apparently drunk. Lovely.
Thankfully, the manager didn't give him any discount. He told him that he got exactly what he paid for, and because he ate all of the food, there was nothing he could do for them.
I kept thinking that there were a couple of things he didn't get that he paid for: an ass kicking and a permanant ban from the Pit. Asshole.
Behold, my first group of true assholes in a couple of weeks:
Drunken, belligerent father: DBF
Son: S
Daughter: D
Drunken father comes in with his two snake eyed children. They sit, and promptly order two sodas and...something I can't understand:
Me: I'm sorry, what was that?
DBF: blahblahbudblahbeerblahbottle
Me: What? I still can't understand you.
DBF: I said, blahbudbottle
Me: So you want a Budweiser? Just in the bottle, or -
DBF: In the bottle. A bud, in the bottle.
Me: Right...(thinking: Cos I could really understand your drunken mutterings...)
I return with the beverages, and somehow DBF has disappeared. His children inform me that he's ventured off to the smoking section to gamble for a bit and he will return upon the arrival of their food. Or until he's lost all the money in his bank account.
So, the two siblings order:
Son: My dad wants the flat iron steak with shrimp *points at menu* and clam chowder.
Me: Okay, sure. And what would you like?
Son: I want the chicken fried steak breakfast with four eggs and french toast. It's important, I want four eggs - two scrambled and two over easy. And, I want a LOT of potatoes. A lot. Give me a mountain.
Me: Um...right.
Son: I want a lot of food, I'm hungry.
Me: Okay...
Son: And four eggs.
Me: I got that, thanks. *turns to snake eyed sister* What would you like tonight?
Sister: I want the 16 oz t-bone platter please.
Me: How would you like your eggs?
Sister: I actually don't want eggs.
Me: Ok, no problem. Would you like extra potatoes instead?
Sister: Okay, sure.
Son: I want your eggs.
Me: You mean, instead of ordering two extra?
Son: Yeah, give me her eggs instead.
Me: Okay, that will save you some money.
After I finish taking their order, I go and put it in the computer as such:
T bone breakfast, eggs OE, white toast - eggs on separate plate
chicken fried steak, eggs scrambled, french toast
side of hash browns
flatiron steak, potatoes, chowder
Time passes, I take their food out, and DBF has returned to the table:
Me: *putting down plates* Okay, here's your t-bone with extra potatoes, and here's your eggs - on a separate plate so that your brother could eat them instead. And here's your chicken fried steak breakfast with french toast, a side of hash browns, and your OE eggs, and here's the flatiron with the potatoes and shrimp.
Son: Where's my extra eggs?
Me: I thought you said that you were going to eat your sister's eggs instead of paying to have the extra.
Son: *points at plate* I have two OE eggs, but where's my other eggs?!
Me: *points at the little plate holding the two eggs that are scrambled* These are your eggs. I thought you agreed to eat your sister's eggs because she didn't want them.
Son: No, I want my eggs!
Sister: I told you (name) that you could eat my eggs. I don't want them. I thought we agreed on that.
Son: *looks at scrambled eggs* *SILENCE*
DBF: This is it?! *looks at his steak* This puny little thing is what I paid almost $11 for!?
Me: You have a different kind of steak than your daughter, sir. You have a flat iron steak, which is a much smaller portion than the t-bone.
DBF: I'm paying $11 for this steak!? *looks at steak, looks pointedly at me*
Me: You're getting a full meal for $11. You're actually paying about $5 for the steak itself.
DBF: *says nothing, but stares at the steak, then stares at me. Repeats this a couple of times*
Me: Would you like another flatiron? You could have two of them then.
DBF: How much is a steak?
Me: The flatiron runs for $5.
DBF: HELL NO! I'm not paying $5 for this shit!
Me: Um, would you like a t-bone instead?
DBF: Not if it's going to be this small!
Me: (trying not to laugh at that last comment) A t-bone is 16 oz, and the flatiron steak is 7 oz. It's a much smaller, better quality steak than the t-bone.
DBF: Whatever! If you can't help me, leave!
Me: Okay....*leaves happily*
And then, the suck kept continuing. Every time I went back to the table, he complained about something. What color the sky was, how his child didn't get his eggs like he wanted, if it was too cold in the restaurant, if his bowel movements were irregular....It got pretty old. Soon I was told to go on break, so I went.
Apparently, while I was gone, DBF barged up to the front register and refused to pay for any of the meals. He was pissed that he had to pay more than $20 for three HUGE meals. (His bill was around $40.) He cussed out the hostess, proceeded to cuss out the server that went to rescue her, and then yelled at the manager.
Also, he was apparently drunk. Lovely.
Thankfully, the manager didn't give him any discount. He told him that he got exactly what he paid for, and because he ate all of the food, there was nothing he could do for them.
I kept thinking that there were a couple of things he didn't get that he paid for: an ass kicking and a permanant ban from the Pit. Asshole.
I AM the evil bastard!
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