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Oh sweet Thanksgiving-centric hell...
Most of the time, people on holidays (as the waitresses in the Pit of Despair are required to work on Christmas and Thanksgiving) are actually fairly nice. Due to the fact that I haven't had a mean table in a while, I stupidly uttered the magic words to jinx myself: "Gee, I hope I don't get a rude table today. Nobody has been mean to me for a while."
Aaaand cue the meanness. Very first table out of the starting gate:
Dumb tourist son: I want to order! Where have you been? I ordered blahblah, but now I want THIS! *points to picture in menu*
Me: Do you still want the original blahblah?
Dumb tourist son: NO! I want *points at picture of breakfast in menu*
Me: How would you like your eggs cooked?
Dumb tourist son: NO! I want *points again, furious that I'm asking a legit question*
Me: Um, that comes with eggs. See the yellow on top of that? Those are scrambled eggs. How do you want your eggs cooked?
Dumb tourist son: Um....[INSERT FIVE SECOND PAUSE] Scrambled.
Me: Okay, *turns to Dumb Tourist Wife* what would you like?
Dumb tourist son: I want pancakes! Give me pancakes!
Me: Okay, they come with your meal. Yay, you will get your pancakes. Now, ma'am, what would you like?
Dumb tourist wife: *points at picture of a salad on the menu* That.
Me: Okay...sure. The salad with sesame dressing.
Dumb tourist wife: *blank stare* Yes.
Me: *turns to Dumb Husband* And what would you like today, sir?
Dumb Husband: I want that! *points at a breakfast with biscuts and gravy, bacon, eggs and hash browns*
Me: Okay, how do you want your eggs?
Dumb Husband: *points at the picture* Like that!
Me: Okay, scrambled.
Dumb Husband: *NODS*
Fast foward a couple of minutes later to when their food arrives at the table. Ah, apparently the stupidity is far from over:
Dumb Husband: This isn't what I ordered!
Me: Um...yes you did. *pulls out server's book* You ordered the blahblah platter - which comes with two eggs, biscuts and gravy, bacon and potatoes.
Dumb Husband: No I didn't! Go get a menu! I didn't order this!!
Me: Um, sure. *retrieves menu, opens to exact page where he pointed and grunted, and thrusts it in his face*
Dumb Husband: Doesn't this come with a sandwich or something?!
Me: No. Definitely no sandwich. *points at menu* You ordered blahblah platter. You pointed at that picture at the top of the page. This is a breakfast platter. No sandwiches in sight, I promise.
Dumb Husband: *gives me a glare, looks at the menu and then back at his plate*
Wash, rinse, repeat.
When he realizes that he has EXACTLY what he ordered, he looks up at me and glares again.
Dumb Husband: Okay...
Me: Do you want something else? I'm getting the impression that you have no idea what you ordered.
Dumb Husband: No, I want this.
Me: Okay. Anything else I can get you?
Dumb son: NO!
Me: Okie dokie. *runs from table*
A couple of minutes later...
Dumb Son: What took you so long to get over here?!
Me: Um, what?
Dumb Husband: I don't like this. Your biscuts aren't fresh.
Me: That's impossible, seeing as the baker's station was full of pans of freshly baked biscuts with a sign on them that said "EXTREMELY HOT!" when I walked in at 3. (Note: It's about 4:15)
Dumb Husband: Your gravy isn't fresh. It tastes stale. (Note: He had eaten everything on his plate but a tiny chunk of biscuts and gravy.)
Me: Um, okay? I know the cooks ran out about two hours ago and they made a huge batch in preparation for the holiday dinner rush. It can't be that old.
Dumb Husband: Her *jerks his thumb at his wife, who is glaring* lettuce isn't fresh.
Me: Not possible, as the girl who just left refilled the salad bar with new lettuce. I know for a fact it's in good shape because it came in on the refridgerated truck this morning.
Dumb Husband: I want to speak to your manager!
Me: Okay, sure. Do you want new biscuts and gravy?
Dumb Husband: No, I'm okay.
Me: Alright, I will go and find him.
So, I run off to find my manager. He tells me he will be right over, but he's up to his eyeballs in holiday customers in the lottery area. I return to my area to check on my other less painful tables. When I walk by with a box for another table, this happens:
Dumb son: *waving his hands around* HELLLLOOOOO!
Dumb Husband: I've been waiting FOREVER! Is your manager going to come and talk to us?!
Me: *turns around* Excuse me? Really? He's very busy with another customer at the moment. You're going to have to wait a little longer.
I depart again to find my manager. I tell him that there are disruptive and rude people on table such and such, and that they are demanding his immediate attention. My manager goes to talk to them, they re-hash their gripes with the food and with my service.
And my manager tells them that he can't help them. He lets them know that the next time that they want to complain, they should probably not consume everything on their plates or try a new complaint when they are thwarted by the waitress.
Suck on that, Dumb Tourist Family.
Most of the time, people on holidays (as the waitresses in the Pit of Despair are required to work on Christmas and Thanksgiving) are actually fairly nice. Due to the fact that I haven't had a mean table in a while, I stupidly uttered the magic words to jinx myself: "Gee, I hope I don't get a rude table today. Nobody has been mean to me for a while."
Aaaand cue the meanness. Very first table out of the starting gate:
Dumb tourist son: I want to order! Where have you been? I ordered blahblah, but now I want THIS! *points to picture in menu*
Me: Do you still want the original blahblah?
Dumb tourist son: NO! I want *points at picture of breakfast in menu*
Me: How would you like your eggs cooked?
Dumb tourist son: NO! I want *points again, furious that I'm asking a legit question*
Me: Um, that comes with eggs. See the yellow on top of that? Those are scrambled eggs. How do you want your eggs cooked?
Dumb tourist son: Um....[INSERT FIVE SECOND PAUSE] Scrambled.
Me: Okay, *turns to Dumb Tourist Wife* what would you like?
Dumb tourist son: I want pancakes! Give me pancakes!
Me: Okay, they come with your meal. Yay, you will get your pancakes. Now, ma'am, what would you like?
Dumb tourist wife: *points at picture of a salad on the menu* That.
Me: Okay...sure. The salad with sesame dressing.
Dumb tourist wife: *blank stare* Yes.
Me: *turns to Dumb Husband* And what would you like today, sir?
Dumb Husband: I want that! *points at a breakfast with biscuts and gravy, bacon, eggs and hash browns*
Me: Okay, how do you want your eggs?
Dumb Husband: *points at the picture* Like that!
Me: Okay, scrambled.
Dumb Husband: *NODS*
Fast foward a couple of minutes later to when their food arrives at the table. Ah, apparently the stupidity is far from over:
Dumb Husband: This isn't what I ordered!
Me: Um...yes you did. *pulls out server's book* You ordered the blahblah platter - which comes with two eggs, biscuts and gravy, bacon and potatoes.
Dumb Husband: No I didn't! Go get a menu! I didn't order this!!
Me: Um, sure. *retrieves menu, opens to exact page where he pointed and grunted, and thrusts it in his face*
Dumb Husband: Doesn't this come with a sandwich or something?!
Me: No. Definitely no sandwich. *points at menu* You ordered blahblah platter. You pointed at that picture at the top of the page. This is a breakfast platter. No sandwiches in sight, I promise.
Dumb Husband: *gives me a glare, looks at the menu and then back at his plate*
Wash, rinse, repeat.
When he realizes that he has EXACTLY what he ordered, he looks up at me and glares again.
Dumb Husband: Okay...
Me: Do you want something else? I'm getting the impression that you have no idea what you ordered.
Dumb Husband: No, I want this.
Me: Okay. Anything else I can get you?
Dumb son: NO!
Me: Okie dokie. *runs from table*
A couple of minutes later...
Dumb Son: What took you so long to get over here?!
Me: Um, what?
Dumb Husband: I don't like this. Your biscuts aren't fresh.
Me: That's impossible, seeing as the baker's station was full of pans of freshly baked biscuts with a sign on them that said "EXTREMELY HOT!" when I walked in at 3. (Note: It's about 4:15)
Dumb Husband: Your gravy isn't fresh. It tastes stale. (Note: He had eaten everything on his plate but a tiny chunk of biscuts and gravy.)
Me: Um, okay? I know the cooks ran out about two hours ago and they made a huge batch in preparation for the holiday dinner rush. It can't be that old.
Dumb Husband: Her *jerks his thumb at his wife, who is glaring* lettuce isn't fresh.
Me: Not possible, as the girl who just left refilled the salad bar with new lettuce. I know for a fact it's in good shape because it came in on the refridgerated truck this morning.
Dumb Husband: I want to speak to your manager!
Me: Okay, sure. Do you want new biscuts and gravy?
Dumb Husband: No, I'm okay.
Me: Alright, I will go and find him.
So, I run off to find my manager. He tells me he will be right over, but he's up to his eyeballs in holiday customers in the lottery area. I return to my area to check on my other less painful tables. When I walk by with a box for another table, this happens:
Dumb son: *waving his hands around* HELLLLOOOOO!
Dumb Husband: I've been waiting FOREVER! Is your manager going to come and talk to us?!
Me: *turns around* Excuse me? Really? He's very busy with another customer at the moment. You're going to have to wait a little longer.
I depart again to find my manager. I tell him that there are disruptive and rude people on table such and such, and that they are demanding his immediate attention. My manager goes to talk to them, they re-hash their gripes with the food and with my service.
And my manager tells them that he can't help them. He lets them know that the next time that they want to complain, they should probably not consume everything on their plates or try a new complaint when they are thwarted by the waitress.
Suck on that, Dumb Tourist Family.
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