Facebook is good for many things: it’s an excellent way to keep in touch with friends you don’t give a shit about, it’s a perfect platform to post images and statuses that give the impression of a perfect life and it’s wonderful place for me to teach a fucking lesson.
Case in point is Angie who went to Buffalo Wild Wings and thought it would be alright to get there at 5:45 and hold down a table for 10 people even though most of them wouldn’t be there until 7:00 or 8:30. Ummm, no, Angie. That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works. It seems that Angie wanted to watch a UFC fight, whatever the hell that is. Ultra Feminine Coochie Fight? Unattractive Flaccid Cock Fighting? I dunno. Angie somehow convinced BWW’s to give them a table, probably by saying that the rest of the party was “on the way” or would be there “any minute.” As they waited for their friends, the manager was apparently very rude and told them that they needed the tables for people who were, you know, actually there at the restaurant. This was very disappointing to Angie who wants BWW’s to know they have lost several customers. Not that it matters, because if there were customers who wanted to use the tables that Angie was holding, it means they have plenty of customers who know how restaurants work: you get a table when you get there.
You can’t hold tables all night just to watch a TV show about Unique Funny Chicken Fighting, especially when the majority of your friends aren’t even there. The restaurant needs those tables to make money and if two people are going to sit at a table for 10 people for two hours, the restaurant is not going to make any money and neither is the server. If you want to sit with a group of friends and watch television all night as people come and go as they please, there is a place for that and it’s called a living room. Look into it.
As disappointed as Angie was with Buffalo Wild Wings, I am even more disappointed in Angie. After all, Angie was a waitress in Philly and had her own TV show on ABC in 1979 and 1980.
I would think Angie would know better than to hog up a bunch of tables at a restaurant and keep a server from making tips. I guess Angie has forgotten where she came from. Well, consider this your reminder Angie: tables at restaurants are for people who are at the restaurant, Uber Flatulent Clown Fights or not.