Author Archives: The Bitchy Waiter

About The Bitchy Waiter

I wait tables and bitch about it on my blog, The Bitchy Waiter.

8 Things I Care About More Than Beyoncé’s Pregnancy

Unless you have been hiding in the walk-in for over twenty-four hours, you probably heard by now that Beyoncé is pregnant with twins. For those of you who don’t know who Beyoncé is, what in fresh hell is wrong with you? She is the most important person on this earth right ahead of Jose Cuervo and Barefoot Contessa. It seems that when she made her pregnancy announcement, the whole Twitterverse pretty much exploded and the Internet almost needed to take a sick day. Well, I am here to announce that unless she plans on having those twins in my section at work and I will have to tip the busser an extra five bucks to clean up the holy Beyoncé placenta and afterbirth, I don’t care. At all. In fact, here are ten things I care about more than the two parasites in her belly who are sponging off her for nine months.

  1. There is a ball of used Kleenex on Table 9 that a customer who had a cold left at her table. I care more about that Kleenex than I do about Beyoncé’s pregnancy.
  2. A man once told me his entire life story about growing up near the Grand Canyon because I told him I visited there when I was in high school. I care more about that man’s boring ass story than I do about Beyoncé’s pregnancy.
  3. Under Table 16, there is a wad of chewing gum that has been there for at least two weeks. I care more about that crappy piece of Hubba Bubba than I do about Beyoncé’s pregnancy
  4. The restroom needs more toilet paper, but I couldn’t find any so I pretended to not notice. I care more about how people will wipe their asses than I do about Beyonce’s pregnancy.
  5. Our soup of the day is Carrot Ginger and I think it tastes too sweet and when the chef garnishes it with poppy seeds, it looks like a mouse pooped in the soup. I care more about that soup than I do about Beyoncé’s pregnancy.
  6. The mop head at work is really dirty and needs to be changed, but it’s such a hassle to change it. I care more about the cleanliness of the restaurant floor than I do about Beyoncé’s pregnancy.
  7. One time I saw a kid flick a booger onto his sister and it landed in her hair as she was eating mac and cheese. No one knew it except me and that little boy. I care more about how that booger got rinsed out her hair than I do about Beyoncé’s pregnancy.
  8. Mr. and Mrs. Goldbaum come into the restaurant about once a week and they have a combined age of about 150 years old. They get on my nerves and complain about everything. They always make a huge mess and when I see them heading toward my section, my heart dies a little. I care more about their salt intake than I do about Beyoncé’s pregnancy.

We get it, Beyoncé. You’re pregnant. It’s not like God reached down and touched you and you’ll be giving birth in a manger or anything. Women get pregnant every day. Congratulations…you caught a hot load from Jay Z. There are plenty of us who don’t care. (By the way, Mrs. Carter. You can click here to buy my book.)

This Is Why You Should Sit Where We Tell You

A 89-year-old woman was taken to the hospital for injuries sustained when her Fitbit exploded on her wrist in a restaurant in Willard, Ohio. Betty Walker went to have lunch at Bab’s Burger Barn this week, as she had every day for the last thirteen years, but things did not go as planned. She was wearing her Fitbit, a gift given to her by her oldest grandson. Although she does not know how it works or what it does, she wore it because it matched her track suit. Betty got to the restaurant at approximately 1:15 and was seated immediately at Table 9. However, the table was not to her liking, so she began wandering around the restaurant trying to find a better place.

“I don’t know why they put me at that table,” she says. “It was way too close to the toilets and the sun was shining in my eyes. So I got up to find another table.”

At 3:30, she was still walking around trying to find the perfect place to eat her half sandwich and cup of soup along with a cup of hot water she had ordered because she brought her own tea bag. Waitress Kendall Adear, 24, was very frustrated with the senior citizen.

“She wouldn’t sit the fuck down. Every time she’d find a place to sit, she’d unwrap the silverware and touch everything on the freaking table and then thirty seconds later, she was up looking for another place to sit. I mean, doesn’t she know the food tastes the
same no matter where she sits? I can’t stand that woman.”

After over two hours of constantly walking, the Fitbit on her right wrist began to smoke. Betty, thinking it was just some toast burning in the kitchen, ignored the acrid smell and because of her severe cataracts, she did not notice the smoke billowing from her own arm. It appears that the Fitbit was not used to having more than 30-50 steps per day and this day, as she went from table to table to table, she reached over 100,000 steps. The Fitbit simply could not take the strain and eploded.

Says Adear, “She was like a mad woman, walking all over the damn place. And when that Fitbit started smoking, the first thing I did was dump a pitcher of water on her. I made it look like I was trying to help her, but really I just wanted to pour water on her. It felt great for me.”

After the Fitbit exploded, Betty fell to the ground, coincidentally right next to Table 9 where she had begun her 100,000 step journey. A busboy doused her with a fire extinguisher. Adear also took the fire extinguisher and accidentally dropped it on the woman’s head. “I swear to god it was an accident,” claims the waitress.

Paramedics were called and she was taken to Mercy Hospital where she was treated and released. As she was being placed on the gurney, she screamed at her waitress to wrap up her soup and sandwich and asked for extra bread. She also requested that her hot tea be placed in a to-go cup.

The next day, Betty showed up again for her lunch. This time she was seated at Table 24 and it seemed adequate enough. She stayed there throughout the course of her entire lunch.

“I’ll never wear that Fitbit again, “says Betty. “I’ll tell you that much. It ruined my favorite tracksuit.”

Man Wants Applebee’s to Change Their Policy

Attention everyone who works at Applebee’s or any other restaurant in the world where it is your job to encourage your customers to buy more food because a restaurant is a business that relies on making a profit: Bill wants you to change your policy and stop trying to sell food!!

At a recent trip to Applebee’s, Bill experienced the dreaded “upsell.” After enjoying his salad and water, his server performed the customary action of trying to convince him to buy dessert. Bill did not like that, claiming that since he just had salad and water, it should be obvious he does not want dessert. Never mind that maybe he ate salad and drank water with the sole intention of blowing his Weight Watchers points on a piece of cheesecake…

Bill, it’s our job to try to get you to buy stuff. Maybe you thought the only reason a restaurant ever opens is to give you the opportunity to come fill your gut with prepackaged food that you don’t have to microwave yourself. Nope. A restaurant opens for the owners of it to make money. And servers want you to buy as much as possible because the more you buy, the more we make in tips (theoretically.) That’s why when you ask for a vodka cranberry your server will usually say something like, “Oh would you prefer Kettle One or Grey Goose?” We don’t want you to settle on McCormick bottom shelf vodka. We want to add a dollar or two to your check. That’s called doing business.

Have you ever been to Best Buy and bought an electronic? Did they try to convince you to buy the extended warranty or tell you that a certain cord is better than the cord you currently have? Upsell!

Have you ever bought a new car and had the salesperson tell you how much nicer the car would be with leather seats instead of vinyl? Upsell!

Have you ever bought a gym membership (probably not…) and it was only $1.99 a month but if you wanted to come in at a time other than midnight to 3:00 AM it would bump up the cost to $25 a month? Or maybe if you want to use towels or the steam room, you pay an additional fee? Upsell!

It’s the way of the world, Bill. In the future, if your server is doing their job and offers you cheesecake when you don’t want it, I have a suggestion for you:

TGI Fridays Does Not Want You Smoking Weed

Dude, I am so pissed off at TGI Fridays right now. Like, totally. I mean, all I wanted last night was to satisfy my craving for some of those new Chicken Tostado Nachos. For some reason, they just sounded better than anything in the world. It was like I was in this big giant dessert like the Sahara or something and I was dying for a drink of water but instead of the Sahara I was in Denver and instead of water I wanted some crispy tortillas loaded with grilled all-natural chicken and stuff. So I took the bus all the way out to Aurora Mall, with two transfers, by the way. They closed at 2:00 AM and I was there at 12:45, so plenty of time, right? And I get there and get seated and order my nachos and a strawberry banana smoothie and then like two minutes later, this lady comes over and she’s all, “Umm, I think I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” And I was like, whoa, what? And then she said it again: ‘I think I’m going to ask you to leave.” So I says to her, “You think you are or you are? Cause I just want some nachos, man. Oh, and can I get extra of that Cotija cheese? That shit is the bomb.”

Then she gets all up in my personal space and starts sniffing me. Seriously, it’s like she’s a dog and my face is the ass of a poodle that she can’t wait to get a piece of. I think she must be kinda into me so I start sniffing her back. I crammed my face into her hair, expecting it to smell like Pantene or something but it smells like a truffle stacked burger instead which I am totally cool with. It smelled pretty good and I almost took a bite out her bangs.

“You need to go, sir,” she told me. “Right now or I will call the police.”

“All I did was smell your hair! You smelled me first!”

And then her face got real serious. She reminded me of this time in junior high school when the librarian told me it was inappropriate to take off my shirt during study hall. (In my defense, that library was like 100 degrees that day.) “Sir,” she said. “You smell like the marijuana and we do not condone that activity here at TGI Fridays. You need to go.”

I started laughing at her because I thought she was kidding. Besides, I smelled more like patchouli than anything else.

“Oh, that’s a good one. Hey, can I get extra chipotle crema too?”

“Get out. NOW!”

That’s when I realized she was totally for real. I saw my waitress bringing my smoothie in a to-go cup. She handed it to me and told me that she paid for it herself. “Light one up for me, alright?”

“Becky, you cannot pay for his strawberry banana smoothie,” said the manager.

“Umm, yes I can,” said Becky as she walked away.

I was dumbfounded. “So you are kicking me out because I smell like weed even thought it is totally legal in this state and I used it in the privacy of my own home and then took public transportation to get here? You do realize that the sell of marijuana made over $150 million in taxes and that $40 million of that went directly to our public schools, right? I am doing you a favor by smoking weed. Can I please get my nachos to go?”

“No. Out.” And she pointed toward the door.

So I left with my smoothie (thanks, Becky!) and as I stood outside the restaurant I watched her hang a sign on the door:

TGI Fridays will not serve/seat guest with strong marijuana odor.

So now I know. the next time I go to TGI Fridays, I just need to put on some more patchouli oil. If they won’t serve me with a strong odor of pot, I need to make sure it just smells just a little bit like pot.

And then I went to 7-11 and got a burrito, a Butterfinger, a Pepsi and a bag of Doritos. I took and Uber home.

Fuck you, TGI Fridays.

Please note: this is a fictional story based on a random photo that was sent to me, but I’m pretty sure it’s about 99% accurate.

This Might Be the Stupidest Cheesecake Factory Customer Ever

Many years ago, I wrote a blog post about what to tip when the service is bad. As a server, I always want to leave a good tip but sometimes that’s hard to do when the server seems to not care or even try to do a decent job. The post brought up a lot of comments and when I recently reposted it, it brought a whole new bunch of opinions. One comment in particular stood out like a straight guy in the audience of a Sunday afternoon showing of La La Land. Chris Evans had this to say:

One time when I got really terrible service at the cheesecake factory I just tore a 20 dollar bill in half and left half of it, took the other half. I think that conveyed everything I wanted to… No, I am not just cheap… yes you would have received a good tip if you weren’t such a terrible waiter.
Leaving a nominal tip without saying more will usually only verify what the waiter was probably thinking about you when he was giving terrible service… that you were cheap and weren’t going to tip him well anyways… creating a cycle of bad service.

Really, Chris Evans? Was it so important for you to prove your point that you felt justified in ripping apart prime currency? Are you that petty that you want to waste twenty dollars? If the service is bad, leave a tip that reflects it. There is no need to try to teach your server a lesson. You may think “that conveyed everything” you wanted them to know, but I am here to tell you otherwise and I will get to that shortly. You also believe that leaving a nominal tip would only confirm what you think the waiter was thinking about you: that you are cheap. Leaving half of a twenty dollar bill did nothing for anyone and now you’re out twenty bucks. And in case you are wondering what the server thought when he found that half of a twenty dollar bill, this is pretty much it:

What an idiot. I realize I didn’t give them the best service, but I got weeded and things spiraled out of control. He was a dick anyway from the second he sat down. I can spot a bad tipper from three booths away and he fit the profile. By leaving me this ripped up twenty, is he trying to prove a point or something? Like he wanted me to know that if I had done a better job I could have had twenty dollars? Umm, okay, thanks for letting me know that, but hey, asshole, now you don’t have the twenty dollars either. The only thing this is proving to me is that you’re fucking stupid. I mean, that was pretty apparent when you decided to have dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, but ripping up a twenty dollar bill to try to teach me a lesson just confirms your idiocy. You know what I’m gonna do with this half a twenty? I’m gonna frame it so it can always remind me of you. And whenever I think I am dealing with the dumbest bag of hair possible, all I will have to do is look at that frame to be reminded that I have already dealt with the King of the Dumbasses and I will know that I can get through anything. So thank you for that. And I thought the stupidest person on the planet was the one who came up with the name “Craig’s Crazy Carrot Cake Cheesecake” but now I know that is the second stupidest person in the world. The first is the Chris Evans who tore a twenty dollar bill in half to prove a point.

Customer Releases Secret Way To Earn Huge Tips

Stop the presses, servers. We have just discovered a way to increase our tips and if we all are able to incorporate this technique into our daily routine, it should only be a matter of weeks before we can all retire with immense wealth in our aprons, pockets and bank accounts. Shockingly, this trick comes from a customer who left the information in a handwritten note for their server. Luckily, a photo of that note was sent to me so I can share it to with the world. Honestly, it’s like finding the Rosetta Stone or the Holy Grail.

Are you ready to learn how you can soon be richer than your wildest dreams?

Are you sure you can you handle it?

This is going to blow your mind.

How to help servers get better tips.
Have them hand out a small treat (like a mint) with the check.
Put it under or inside the check to ‘hide” it.
It will make the guests feel special and treated and they should tip more.

Sweet Jesus, this is going to change our lives! I’m surprised this message wasn’t delivered via a burning bush because it is basically a miracle. Why have I never thought of this? I am dropping what I am doing right now so I can head over to the dollar store and buy a bag of Peppermint Starlight Mints. I figure I can get a bag of 100 for about $1.99. If I put one mint down with each check, that should guarantee me an extra $10. That’s like a $1000 for a $1.99 investment, y’all!

And thankfully, I know now to “hide” the mint so it will make the customer feel special when they find it. It makes total sense. I remember how it felt when I was a kid and I would find an Easter egg or discover a quarter under my pillow from the tooth fairy. (Yes, a quarter. It was the 70s. That’s all that cheap bitch left in those days.) It made me feel special, you know? Sorta like a pirate must have felt when he found a buried treasure on an island or discovered a new herpes sore that he picked up from a seafaring wench whore. This is going to change our lives!

Oh, wait. Has this been done already? I seem to recall that when I was but a wee bitchy waiter of 8 or 9 years old, my family would go to eat Mexican food at a place called Monterey House. When they brought us a basket of chips, underneath the pile of of fried crispy deliciousness, there would be some goat milk candy. And then they would bring us more when they served the check. I don’t know if it made my parents leave more money, but I do know that it meant whenever me and my brothers wanted dessert, our parents would say, “You can just eat that candy for dessert, no.”

And doesn’t Olive Garden do this too? Are there any Olive Garden slaves out there that can confirm or deny?

Oh, yeah, and I remember one time I was working Valentine’s Day and I bought a bag of Hershey Kisses to give to each table with their check. I don’t recall that it increased my tips, but then again, I wasn’t hiding them. Foolishly, I just laid them on the table, not giving my customers the opportunity to find the, therefore, not allowing them to feel special. God, what an idiot I was.

Well, I suppose this technique is worth a try. I have to go to the dollar store today to buy toilet paper and paper towels anyway so I may as well buy a bag of gross cheap candy to pawn off to my customers in a pathetic attempt to get few extra dollars out of them.

Thank you to the person who wrote this note. If your plan works, I expect to be retired in about three weeks. And you should try it too. Let’s all get rich together!