Dear Two Ladies Who Sat at Booth #7,
Since I don’t know your names, I want to make sure you know that this letter is about you and for you. Let me describe you: two middle-aged women. The one on my left had hair that was in desperate need of a hot creatine oil injection while the one to my right looked like she had just used the last of her gift certificate to Casual Corner. You drank a Grey Goose and Tonic and a Desert Sunrise and then you ordered another round. You shared an an arugula salad, curry mussels and the penne pasta special. Recognize yourselves? Okay, good.
We open at 5:00 so yes, it was absolutely alright that you knocked on the door at 5:01 to point at your watches and remind us that we were one whole minute late from unlocking our doors. I apologize for that. You see, it was just that the kitchen staff was a little bit behind that day so they didn’t make our shift meal until 4:52. When you knocked on the front door one minute after we opened, we were still sitting down eating our dinner. But don’t worry. I finished eating in the side stand while standing up. It was our fault for waiting so late to eat.
I am also sorry that I was unable to accommodate your request to seat you on the patio. You see, it’s just that it had been raining all day and it had only stopped raining about 15 minutes before you arrived. I simply hadn’t had time to go wipe down all eight tables and all 16 chairs with a dry cloth so that it would be ready for seating. Since the weather forecast had predicted continuous rain all evening, it seemed unlikely that anyone would want to sit there as rain water dripped from the tress and the tables sat in puddles of water. Again, my fault.
It was nice talking to you about Coney Island. Remember how we talked about that? Dry-Hair-Lady, you mentioned that you were thinking of going to ride the Cyclone and I told you that I was pretty sure it didn’t open until after Memorial day so don’t go all the way out there unless you know for sure. You thanked me for that. After all, we both know how long of a subway ride it is, right? I shared that story about the time my friend and I went out there and it was closed and how disappointed we were. Casual-Corner-Lady, you seemed like you were too busy to talk because you were investing all of your energy into your cocktail and your cell phone. I thought the three of us had a good thing going. We chatted and laughed and you loved everything.
Your check was $66.41. You left $68.00 which meant I got a tip for $1.59. What the fuck is your problem? I was totally nice to you, I got your food and drinks out so fucking fast, I apologized for not having the front door unlocked on time and you loved your food. Is 2.4% your idea of a good tip? Well, I got news for you ladies: it’s not. Had I known that you were going to leave me a completely crap tip, maybe I would have left the door locked and finished my shift meal in peace. Don’t bother coming back to the restaurant again unless you are showing up with an apology and $11.59 to cover the rest of what you should have left me. It’s people like you who give dry fly-away hair and the good customers of Casual Corner a bad name. I don’t like you. If you come back in, I will not be nice. You suck and you wasted my time.
The Bitchy Waiter