One Cheap Bitch

There are a few things in this world that make my skin crawl:
  1. Snakes. I grew up in the country where Coral snakes and Copperheads lived under the same woodpile as the non-venomous garden variety. They all shared the same future though: head cut off with a hoe, no questions asked.
  2. People who complain about something but don’t want anyone to fix the problem. Then don’t complain. The purpose of complaining should be that you want a different action. Otherwise, it’s just for the sake of complaining.
  3. Going out to dinner with a large group of people. Allow me to explain:

It’s never easy, is it? I don’t think I would like it even if I didn’t have years of experience on the other side of the menu. In a group of ten people, there is always someone who wants to scam in order to save themselves a few bucks. “Oh, I have to catch a train, so I’m gonna just throw my money in now for everything I had. Here’s a twenty, that ought to be enough,” and they skedaddle their cheap ass outta there. Even Andrew Jackson himself knows that the order of nachos and two beers was more than twenty bucks. He rolls his eyes in embarrassment from having been inside that tacky whore’s tacky knock-off Prada bag that she bought on Canal Street.

This happened to me last week. I went to celebrate a birthday with a friend. Drinks were had, jokes were made and mechanical bulls were ridden. At the end of the night, the patron saint of waiters gave us our check. Of course the cheapest people at the table grabbed it first. God forbid they should be the last one to hold it and have to pay an extra two or three bucks. The cheapest bitch of them all was a a friend of a friend who I have absolutely no allegiance to so I don’t give a shit if her cheap ass reads this or not. After I finally commandeered the bill so I could make sure everything was happening as it was supposed to, I asked what everyone had put in. Cheap Bitch said, “I’m using a credit card and need to pay ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars? What all did you have?” I asked.

“One margarita, that’s it.”

I looked at the bill in my hand. One small margarita was $9.00. (Truth be told, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as small margarita. Mine was $13.00. What the fuck is the point of a small margarita anyway?) “So your margarita is nine dollars and you’re going to leave ten? What about tax and tip?” I asked in front of the whole table.

“Yeah, my drink was nine so I’m leaving ten.”

I hated this bitch. “So for tax and tip, you’re leaving a dollar?”

“Well, what do you think I’m supposed to leave?” she wanted to know. Her head was swaying back and forth like she was daring me to give her an answer.

I gave her an answer. “Well, tax is about 8.25% so that means you are leaving about a twenty-five cents for a tip?” I didn’t even mention that we all kinda figured we’d pitch in to pay for the birthday girl.

“Yeah, I’m leaving ten dollars.”

“So you’re alright with leaving a quarter for a tip?”

“I have a very limited credit card and alls I can afford is ten dollars!”

That ain’t a credit card, honey, that’s just sad. “Fine,” I said and went on with figuring out the rest of the check.

When I finally got it all settled, she told me that she went on ahead to the waiter and paid her portion because she had to go. Maybe it was double fucking coupon night at the dollar store and she needed to get there by midnight to get that roll of toilet paper that was marked down to fifty cents. I went to the waiter to make sure she had paid and he told me she paid nine dollars. Bitch didn’t pay for tax OR a tip. Nine dollars, period. I’ve met her once before and wasn’t that impressed, but from now on she is dead to me.

How can people be like that? If you know that tax exists, you have to at least pay that part of your bill, right? Okay, so she didn’t tip. No surprise. She also turned down a piece of birthday cake. I know it was because the restaurant was charging a $1.50 slicing fee per person and she didn’t want to pay that. She also finagled for someone else to pay the $5.00 required to ride the mechanical bull. “Oh, I don’t have my i.d. so they won’t let me buy a ticket,” she claimed. Birthday Girl told her she’d go do it for her and then just give her the ticket. She did, but then it was necessary to have her hand stamped to prove she were 18 years old. Cheap Bitch miraculously “found” her i.d. in one of her pockets after the five dollars had been paid. She did not pay it back, She rode the bull and I wish more than anything it would have bucked her cheap ass though the wall and into the men’s room where she could have enjoyed a big bite of urinal cake.

The check was eventually paid and the waiter was very happy with his tip. There was no slicing fee though and I think it was because we offered him the last piece of cake. We gave him some cake, he left off the slicing fee. He left off the slicing fee, we tipped him better. What goes around comes around which is exactly why Cheap Bitch will get her karma some day. Like maybe she’ll get a hell of a paper cut from her buy one get one free coupon for generic tampons. Cheap bitch.

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

23 thoughts on “One Cheap Bitch

  1. Ninja Kitty Extraordinaire

    Ugh. I've never met the broad and I want to punch her in the ovaries (promptly after which I will, also, consider her "dead"). I have money problems as much as the next guy or gal, which is precisely why I don't land my broke ass in those situations to begin with. Sporting an attitude to boot? *more groaning* Sounds like birthday girl had a good time and the waiter was a Doll! The perfect ending? A front row seat & a bucket of popcorn for when karma knocks on the door of aforementioned "dead" witch!

  2. Estrellita

    What a cow! Stay home if you can't afford to pay your way. I had a coworker (waiter) who stuck us with most of his tab every time we went out after work. He and his fat girlfriend would eat 4 or 5 plates of food, drink shots of Grand Marnier, consume numerous top shelf drinks, and leave two twenties on the table before running out.Their portion of the bill was usually around $100. I'd end up paying $40 for 2 margaritas. Needless to say, we began paying by the round. They stopped hanging out with us when there was no way to stick us with their portion of the tab.

  3. Fleur

    Hilarious post.I'm the person who wants to figure out to the penny what everyone owes.Of course in addition to the the cheap person, there will always be another sort of diner at the table…the person who thinks that we should all pay a little extra and keep quiet about the drama.

  4. Mary A.

    Wonder why she & birthday girl are even friends.Today I had lunch with coworkers to buy boss a birthday lunch. Plus bosses husband. We also "chipped in" to send boss flowers this weekend. I bought the flowers. They were $70. Four of us were participating. So when the bill comes for lunch they all look at me as if I am going to spend ANOTHER $40 on this woman who I don't even like that much. So far I have spent more on HER birthday than on my son's — he will be 7 on Saturday.BTW – I am NOT drunk commenting. Even though it reads exactly as if I am.

  5. cordelia

    I would have embarassed the fuck out of this bitch…i would have asked the waiter for her credit card slip and taken a photo of it and posted that shit…what an asshole/

  6. NellieVaughn

    I experience this kind of thing when I eat out with friends, which can be worse, in my opinion, because how the hell do you tell a friend he/she is being cheap? It's far easier to be a little firm and honest with someone who is practically a stranger.

  7. Confessions from the Hairdresser

    When I go out with my group of friends (very VERY infrequently because I'm a shut-in most of the time) to fill my quarterly quota of social interaction our one cheap friend always comes along and she always pulls some shit. Her tactic involves snatching the bill up first and looking up her stuff and then pretending that she needs a minute to do the math before she passes it around the table so that it comes all the way around to her again and she's the last to pay. She will then count what everyone else has already put in (including what they put in for tips) and then seeing that it's covered the cost of the bill plus a bit extra will then put in five bucks or something like that.Basically she steals the waiter's tips to pay for her own meal.It's gotten to the point where I have to be 'bill nazi' and loudly double-check everyone's totals and what they're leaving, and make sure that our cheap bitch goes FIRST.

  8. Sardini

    Listen, I'm not exactly poor, but I've been broke. Maybe I paid rent, utilities, got an oil change, my hair done, blah blah blah and I'm just out of money for the month. It happens. If I agree to go out for a birthday drink or somthing of the sort, I think to myself something like this."Mmmm. I'd sure like a margarita. Oh, it's $9? Shit, that's all I have. Okay, what's on happy hour? How much does a beer cost? I sure love this Belgian / imported / high-alcohol content beer, but it's $7. that leaves only $1 for tax and tip. Okay, Sam Addams draft is $4? Perfect. That's what I'll have."

  9. World Famous Dan Shields

    My fave from waitering days of mine is when the person will have a bill of say five dollars for a beer and will stiff you with the explanation that they are on a fixed income. I would always explain back that five dollar beers cost 1.50 at the beer store soooooooooo.

  10. Pingback: A Comment on Comments | the bitchy waiter

  11. Robert

    I don’t have any friends like that. My best friend is much like me, we like to over-tip (is there such a thing?).

    You could say I am lucky. A more accurate description would be that I am the type of person to kick cheap ass friends to the curb and say “Sayonara cheap bitch!”


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *