Dear Party of Nine Who Did Not Show Up:
There is a reason we do not take reservations at my restaurant. You are it. You see, we are a really small restaurant with only about 16 tables. Remember last week when you called and said you wanted a reservation but we said that we don’t take them but you begged us and so we did? We should not have done that.
You called on Wednesday night and said there were going to be about eight or nine of you coming to dinner the following night and could we please please please reserve a table because you are you are so totally coming to celebrate your birthday and you don’t want to have to wait when you get there. Against our better judgement, we did it. Thursday rolls around and I am at work. You told us you would be there at 7:30 and that you would call at 6:45 to confirm. You did not call. At the busiest time of the night, I stopped seating five two-tops. Four would have been better, but since you said you might have nine people, I had to save a whole extra table. Do you know how many people I was unable to sit because of your reservation? A lot. “But it will all be worth it,” I thought. “When the nine-top gets here and everyone has apps and cocktails and desserts and then I get to add a 20% gratuity to the check, it will all be worth it.!” I was giddy with anticipation.
7:00: You did not call to confirm yet, but you must be busy getting ready for your big dinner out.
7:15: “No, I’m sorry, ma’am, that table is reserved, you’ll have to sit at the crappy table next to the bathroom. No, we don’t usually take reservations, but we made an exception tonight.”
7:16: Every table is full now except for the five two-tops I pushed together. I hope no one else comes in right now.
7:17: “Hello, sir. No, I’m sorry, I don’t have any place to seat you right now, sir. That is reserved. Oh, so you’ll go next door to eat? Okay… good bye. I’m sorry.”
7:19: “Hi there. Table for three? There will be about a 15 minute wait. Yes, all those tables are reserved. Oh, you’ll come back later? Okay, thank you.” They did not come back.
7:25: Almost here!
7:32: Running a bit late, I suppose. No big deal.
7:40: Ummm, where are you?
7:50: Okay, I’m getting pissed off.
8:00: You suck. Where the fuck are you?
8:01: I am breaking the tables apart and seating them meaning that now I am going to get slammed by having five empty tables all become available at the same time. I hate you. Why did you make me keep those tables open for you if you knew you were not coming? Did you lose your cell phone up your own asshole which made it impossible for you to call and let us know you were not going to make it? We went out of our way to give you a reservation and this is what happens? Never again will we “make an exception” because too many times it is not worth it to do so. Our place is small enough that we don’t need to take reservations. We can fill up just by walk-ins. I hope that the birthday celebration sucked. I hope that when they brought out the cake with candles on it, you bent over to blow them out and your eyebrows were singed off. I hope the cake was as dry as Phylis Dillers’s vag. I hope every gift you got was the wrong size and wrong color and that you got no gift receipts. I hope that it was the shittiest birthday you have ever had because you ruined a good portion of my shift. My station sat empty for over an hour and I made no money. I hate you.
So the next time you want to make a reservation at my restaurant and you say “Pretty please with sugar on top can we make a reservation?” my answer will be a resounding NO. No. No. No. We do not take reservations.
The Bitchy Waiter
p.s. You’re lucky that the person who took your reservation did not take your phone number or there would now be a flyer hanging at Queens College that says you are selling an iPad for $150 and to only call after 11:00 PM.