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If You Don’t Like Bugs, Don’t Sit on the Patio

Deal with 'em.

Deal with ‘em.

This is the story of a lady who hated bugs. She did not like bugs in any way and did not like bugs on any day. Not red bugs or bed bugs, black bugs or white bugs, big bugs or small bugs nor wig bugs or tall bugs. She. Hated. Bugs.

“Oh, I just can’t stand them” she’d say. “With their creepy little legs and their beady little eyes; laying all their eggs; I hate them worse than flies.”

The lady’s name was Betty and all of her friends knew how she felt about creepy crawlers. No amount of discussion could convince Betty that bugs had any purpose in life other than to freak her out.

“But what about Lady Bugs?” they’d say. “They’re so cute. Or Rolly Polly Doodle Bugs? Surely you don’t mind them.”

Betty minded every kind of bug. Betty hated bugs.

One day, Betty made plans to go out to dinner with her best friend Jane. Well, Betty thought that Jane was her best friend, but in reality Betty got on Jane’s last fucking nerve and the only reason Jane tolerated Betty was out of a sense of obligation. You see, they were once very close in college and their mothers were best friends, but over the years their interests had changed. Jane continued to be cool while Betty turned into an annoying fuck of epic proportions. Still, Jane made time to have dinner with Betty every four or five months.

The two women arrived at the restaurant which had a quaint little patio in the backyard.

“Oh, let’s sit outside,” said Betty. “The weather is so nice tonight. Would you like that, Jane? Would you like to sit outside on the patio as we catch up? I have so much to tell you since we last saw each other. My goodness, I truly do. I just can’t wait to share every single thing that has happened to me in the last 16 weeks, 3 days, 21 hours and 14 minutes since we last saw each other. Shall we sit outside, Jane? Shall we? Oh please say you want to sit outside, dear Jane.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” said Jane. “Let’s just do this. Two for outside,” said Jane to the waiter.

The waiter put down his glass of seltzer and led the two women to a table on the patio. He placed two menus on the table and told them he would be right back to see what they would like to drink. As they sat down, Betty looked at the garden that was blooming all around them and began to think of all the bugs that might be crawling around on the plants.

“Are you still freaked out by bugs?” asked Jane.

“Well, I’m better than I used to be,” Betty lied. “But I don’t think I can face sitting here.”

“What is it, you cunt face?” asked Jane.

“Jane, did you just call me a ‘cunt face’?”

“No,” Jane lied. “I said ‘what is it you can’t face?’ Jeez, Betty. Chill out.”

“Oh, well, I just think this table is a little too wobbly. Let’s move to that one over there.”

Betty picked up the menus just as the waiter was coming back to the garden to take their drink order. Betty waved at him as if he wouldn’t see that they had moved five feet from where they were the last time he saw them. “Yoo hoo! We’re over here now!”

“Yeah, we had to move because Betty doesn’t like bugs,” smirked Jane.

The waiter took their drink orders; Betty asked for a water with extra lemon while Jane ordered a dirty vodka martini with extra olives. “Like, porn star/Lindsay Lohan dirty,” she said. “And hurry.”

As Jane opened the menu, Betty looked down at the cement to make sure there were no bugs that were plotting out their attack on her legs. Although she saw nothing, she realized that she was still too close to the plants for her to feel comfortable.

“Jane, dear, would you mind too terribly if we move to that table over there?” she asked.

“Bugs?” said Jane.

“No, no, no, it’s just that the sun is shining in my eyes and I want to be able to give my full attention to you and not have to be thinking about shielding my eyes as I try to tell you about my love life-”

“Fine,” grunted Jane. “Let’s go. You really need to get past this whole ‘bugs are scary’ thing.”

Betty tried to convince her friend that it was just the sun and the wobbly table, but Jane knew it was because Betty thought a bug might climb up her leg and sneak into her vagina. At this time the waiter reappeared with drinks for the two women.

“Yoo hoo, we’re over here now. Yoo hoo!! The sun was shining in my eyes at that other table. I swear it wasn’t because I thought a bug might crawl up my leg and sneak into my vagina or anything like that.”

The waiter didn’t give a shit because all he was thinking about was what kind of shift drink he would be having two hours later. He placed their drinks before them, telling them he would be right back to take their food order. He noticed how Jane practically grabbed the martini off the tray as if she needed more than oxygen. He understood how she felt and made his way back inside the restaurant.

Two minutes later, he heard a scream from the patio; a blood curdling scream that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Betty came running into the restaurant, arms flailing about her body.

“Oh my GOD! A bug just crawled up my leg and tried to sneak into my vagina! Your patio is swarming with bugs! What kind of patio has that many bugs?? Oh my god! Why are there so many bugs out there?” she cried.

“Well, it’s outside, so it’s kinda their home,” replied the waiter.

This is when Jane came inside as well, an empty martini glass in her hands. She handed a twenty dollar bill to the waiter and looked at her friend.

“Listen, Betty. Bugs are bugs. They exist. If you don’t want to be close to them, don’t ask to sit on the fucking patio, cunt face. Bugs always find the bitches. I’m outta here.”

Jane sauntered out of the restaurant, leaving Betty the Bug Bitch alone and embarrassed. Betty didn’t know what to do or say, so she straightened her hair and adjusted her skirt. She cleared her throat and said, “I do not like bugs in any way and do not like bugs on any day. Not red bugs or bed bugs, black bugs or white bugs, big bugs or small bugs nor wig bugs or tall bugs.” With that, she left the restaurant.

“Bugs always find the bitches,” said the waiter.

Bartender Sets Man’s Head on Fire With Flaming Cocktail

Burn, baby, burn

Burn, baby, burn

I have never been a fan of flaming cocktails. Nor do I like cherries flambé or anything else that will be set on fire moment before ingesting it. I figure my digestive track has enough to deal with with all the cheese and tequila I give it, so I may as well draw the line at fire. However, if there is something on the menu that can be set ablaze, you can be sure that someone is going to want to order it.

A bar in Lithuania called Naktinis Tbilsis has a drink named a Flaming Lamborghini. It is a mixture of Sambuca and Kahula that is torched and then the customer is supposed to drink it through a straw while it’s still on fire. Again, I would think only a very specific person would want a drink called a Flaming Lamborghini, but someone ordered it and it went wrong. Really really wrong. We have all had customers that we wish we could slap upside the head or accidentally spill a glass of ice water on, but this bartender basically just set the man on fire. The man was seriously injured. The owner of the club and the bartender visited him in the hospital and the club has agreed to pay for his treatment. The bartender must have watched the video and saw how uncaring she looked and thought that she better make an appearance at the hospital to make it look like she’s not a stone cold bitch. According to Lithuanian news site (translated), the man should heal pretty well, but he may have scars. One thing is for certain: he will never order another Flaming Lamborghini again.

Let’s evaluate the video, shall we:

0:00 Everything seems fine and dandy. The club is rocking and people are having a great time in Lithuania. Party on, Lithuanians, party on.

0:03 The bartender is all, “I’m gonna make you this really great drink, y’all. It’s called the Flaming Lamborghini! You’ll love it.”

0:12 The bartender says, “Lemme get this straw so you can suck flames out of it.”

0:18 Future Human Torch says, “Hey buddy, come here. We’re gonna drink fire, it’s gonna be great. Here take my seat and I’ll move down one.”

0:25 The bartender prepares her arsenal.

0:30 We have lift off. The man is on fire and his friend is so grateful that it’s not him with a flaming head of hair.

0:32 The bartender is like, “Oh, shit, lemme get this bottle out of the way so it doesn’t explode and ruin my dress that I got at the Lithuanian Dress Barn.

0:33 The douchebag in the white shirt in the bottom right corner thinks it’s the funniest thing he has ever seen since Bronson Pichnot played Balki on Perfect Strangers.

0:35 Everyone in the bar tries to help the man. Well, everyone except the people who actually work there.

0:36 The bartender pulls an Urkel and says, “Did I do that?”

0:38 A waitress in a long black pony-tail is all, “Yeah, whatever. Table 12 needs his draft beer so I guess I have to get it myself now? I am NOT tipping out for this.”

0:40 The bartender decides it’s a good time to wipe down her bar because even though one of her customers is ablaze, that is no excuse for a sloppy bar.

0:47 The bartender decides to try to give rat’s ass and attempts to hand the guy a bev nap because whenever someone has third-degree burns all over their face, that’s what they want: a fucking bev nap.

0:52 Pony-tail babe is still pouring a draft beer because her customers are way more important than the man writing in pain who looks like he just took a nap on a bar-b-q grill.

0:56 The bartender finally leaves from behind the bar to see if the man she just torched needs anything like bandages, burn salve or a refill of his Flaming Lamborghini.

1:00 The man in the white short-sleeve shirt sees an opening at the bar and decides this is the perfect time to get the attention of the pony-tail chick and order himself another beer.

Employee Mistreats Doughnuts, Gets Fired For It

Voodoo Doughnut

Voodoo Doughnut

Thank you to KWG in Portland, Oregon for this very important news story about someone who is wasting the precious commodity that is known as a Voodoo doughnut. I have been to Voodoo Doughnuts once and the doughnuts should be held in the greatest respect. They should be placed on a pedestal and worshipped and adored. However, an employee got angry at a customer and instead decided to put two doughnuts under the windshield wipers of a customer’s car. What kind of world do we live in where a food service employees thinks it’s a good idea to waste doughnuts?

The story goes that a customer named Luke Copeland had placed an order for $2000 worth of doughnuts. That is a lot of fucking doughnuts. No word on what he needed that many doughnuts for, but I can only assume it was for one of those massive pastry orgies that everyone in the Northwest goes to every other Wednesday night. While he was inside picking up his orgy supplies, an employee was pissed off that Luke had parked someplace that wasn’t an actual parking spot even though someone else in the store had told him it was okay to park there. This is when the angry employee grabbed a couple of spare doughnuts and placed them on the windshield.

For the love of God, think of the doughnuts! Think of the doughnuts, people. Doughnuts belong on plates and napkins and in some very unusual circumstances, a penis, but never on a car windshield.

Luke was upset. Now if it was me, I’d be like, “Cool, two free doughnuts!” but Luke isn’t me. He went in an complained and basically no one in the store cared. I think Luke could have just removed the doughnuts with his hands, brushed them off and had them as a snack, but based on the video, it looks like he turned on his windshield wipers instead. Umm, who the fuck thinks windshield wipers are going to do anything to doughnuts other than make a big bukkake mess on your windshield? The manager of the store, David Drexler, found about the doughnut smear and promptly fired the employee and gave Luke some compensation: a free dozen doughnuts every month for a year.

This is my cue to drive my ass to Portland, park in front of a Voodoo Doughnuts and stick a couple of Entenmann’s under my windshield wipers and hope that David will send me a box of free doughnuts every month. If that doesn’t work, I have this to say to Luke Copeland:

“Luke, I am your father. Please send me the doughnuts.”


How To Make More Money as a Waiter

"Want to make more money?"

“Want to make more money?”

“Do you want to make more money? Of course we all do.” Does that phrase ring a bell for anyone? It’s the opening line for the commercial that iconic actress Sally Struthers did in the early 90′s for International Correspondence Schools. That shit ran all the time usually when you were watching your stories to see if Luke and Laura were going to stay together on “General Hospital.” Sally offered all of us the opportunity to learn at home and get better jobs and promotions. If you called the 1-800 number you could be on your way to an exciting career in learning the personal computer, interior decorating, child day care, gun repair, or even catering! Luckily for me, I had an innate skill for catering and gun repair so I never had to call the number. Other people who are too afraid to make the call that will change their life have to come up with other ways to make more money and I came across one of those people while on vacation once.

I was sitting on the bus in San Francisco when I heard this dumb bitch behind me yapping on her cell phone. She was jib jabbing away about things that nobody cared about but we were all forced to listen to. And then things got interesting. She started to tell her friend how she had discovered a new way to make more money at her job. I thought that maybe she wasn’t as dumb as she sounded because she clearly seemed as of she wanted to move ahead in her career. My nosy ass started listening closer to see if I could glean some wisdom from this career-minded independent woman. And then I realized she was a fucking cocktail waitress. And her brilliant idea to make more money was basically stealing. She had realized that if she didn’t ring in all the drinks and just collected the money, she could then pocket that cash as her own. Bitch, please. Does she really think she is the first one to come up with that idea? Waiters have been skimming like that since the dawn of time. I think Benjamin Franklin was pocketing coins the same way when he was waiting tables at Ye Olde Tavern Inn back in 1750 right before he discovered electricity and invented bifocals. She was all proud of herself for discovering stealing. “Girl, I took a hundred dollars last night. If I could do that three times a week that would be like… (ridiculously long pause here as she tried to multiply) …$300 dollars a week!” Yes, honey or $1200 a month. And then two to three years in jail when they bust your ass for theft. She was clearly not the brightest bulb. Every smart thieving waiter knows that taking that much a week is just asking for trouble. Start small. Ten dollars here and ten dollars there. What a fucking amateur.

I don’t steal from my jobs. Not worth it. Sure maybe the occasional cocktail or a lunch that I eat that I don’t pay for, but cash? No way. Never. Well, except for that one summer I worked at a Putt-Putt miniature golf course and pilfered a few bucks a day to pay for my Dairy Queen blizzards and my lunch of chicken sandwich from the Burger King that shared the parking lot with me. But nothing since then. (Sorry, Putt-Putt. I was young and hungry and only making $5.00 an hour.) Word of advice: don’t steal.

If you want to make more money, take Sally’s advice and call this number: 1-800-228-3800. (That shit is probably disconnected by now.) And you can watch her commercial here and be on your way to financial freedom. Happy birthday, Sally Struthers!

Definitive Proof That People Lie About Food Allergies

Lying Food Babe

Lying Food Babe

You know how we servers know that so many times our customers tell us they are allergic to something but we know they are lying? We know because they tell us they are allergic to gluten and then we watch them order a piece of cake for dessert claiming, “well, it’s just a little bit of gluten.” It’s annoying and it does a disservice to those who are actually allergic to something because it makes servers think that allergies aren’t really that big of a deal. Allergies are a big deal, but you know what isn’t a big deal? Not liking something. It only becomes a big deal when you don’t like something and then you tell your server you’re allergic to it when you’re not. A recent article written by some chick who calls herself “Food Babe” offers tips on how to eat healthy when you eat out and one of her suggestions is to lie to your server about allergies. I need to discuss this.

First off, what kind of name is “Food Babe” anyway? Really? What a ridiculous moniker to give oneself and only someone with a deep seated need for approval would choose to call him or herself something so immature. Wait, I’m The Bitchy Waiter. Never mind.

In her article called “Food Babe Travel Essentials-Eating Outside Your Home,” Food Babe offers 11 suggestions on how to eat healthy when dining out. The fourth suggestion on the list advises that if you don’t want butter, soy or corn in your food, you should “go as far as telling the server you (sic) allergic” to these items. In other words, lie, lie, lie. Lie your ass off and just tell the server you’re allergic to butter so he can waste his time typing in all the modifications and then go to the chef to alert the kitchen so they can make sure to not cross-contaminate any of the pans. The kitchen will go through all the trouble to make sure no butter gets near your precious digestive system. Later on, on when the server sees you putting some butter on your roll, the server will know you made that shit up and you’re a big fat liar. When someone comes in to the restaurant who has a true severe allergy to nuts, maybe the server won’t take it as seriously because he saw Food Babe lying about the fucking butter allergy. It’s annoying and I’m surprised that someone who has such a popular website and huge following is alright with telling her readers to lie.

Sure, just lie about it.

Sure, just lie about it.

Overall, Food Babe’s suggestions indicate she is a huge pain in the ass to wait on. If you ever see Food Babe heading to your section, you better order your shift drink early because you’re gonna need it. Here are a few more of her handy-dandy tips for dining out:

2. “Order a salad for the first course with dressing & cheese on the side” and find out if there is any iceberg in the salad. If there is, “tell them to leave it out! There are no nutrients in iceberg.” I can just see some server standing in the kitchen window picking iceberg lettuce out of a salad with their “clean” hands because some cook was like, “Fuck that, do it yourself.”

3. She wants you to “quiz the server to see which dish they think is the most healthy.” You wanna know what the healthiest is, Food Babe? The iceberg wedge with blue cheese dressing on the side. Eat up, liar, eat it up.

6. “Before you order the soup – ask if it’s homemade or if it contains additives.” She also wants you to ask to see an ingredient list. If you’re a server, you will have to find that crappy Xeroxed sheet of paper that you got on your first day of work that had that information on it. It’s probably wrinkled up in your locker, your bag or your car right next to the rules and regulations of your new job and the dress code. If you can’t find the ingredient list, just tell her its got MSG in it and she’ll immediately choose something else.

7. “Drink hot water with lemon during your meal or hot decaf green or ginger tea,” because you haven’t already been enough of an annoying stereotype yet, so why not go all the way?

8. “Mix and match. Check out the specifics of each dish and ask the waiter to create you a plate.” Yeah, do that, Food Babe. Servers love to tell the kitchen that Table 19 wants the cod, but they want it prepared the way the salmon is and then to put it on the plate with the set up for the grilled chicken. The kitchen loves it when we ask for that shit.

9. “Order off the menu-ask the chef to create something for you.” If you eat at some hoity -toity restaurant, I suppose the chef would be eager for this challenge, but I would think that many people who read her column are eating at Outback Steakhouse and Olive Garden. Their “chefs” will not appreciate the request. Asking to change the menu might make their heads explode and no one wants to have their food cooked in a kitchen where there has just been a head explosion.

10. “ Create an old standby and build a relationship with the staff – I have my favorite standby restaurant when I am too busy to cook but still want to eat healthy. I’ve gotten to know the staff and they make everything perfect for me every time.” And I’m sure they just love when you come in, Food Babe.

You should go visit her Facebook page and tell her what you think of her advice to lie to servers about allergies. C’mon, tell her how you feel. Let’s blow up her Facebook page, you want? Tell her I said hello.

And here is her Twitter page if you want to tell her how you feel via a Tweet. If you do, make sure you add @BitchyWaiter so she she’ll know I care.


TGI Fridays Just Got Even Worse to Work At

"It's always Friday and always shitty."

“It’s always Friday and always shitty.”

That deafening roar you heard across the land on Monday afternoon was the sound of every TGI Fridays server bemoaning the new promotion that started at their jobs: Endless Appetizers. Yes, that’s right, someone who works in the corporate office of TGI Fridays probably got a two million dollar bonus when they sharted up this idea. Beginning on July 7th and running until August 24th, customers can pay $10 and get an endless amount of loaded potato skins, pan-seared pot stickers or some other fried piece of crap until they are bursting at the seams with MSG and other Sysco products. Don’t worry about the server not getting tipped by people who are eating a lot of food but not spending a lot of money because marketing officer Brian Gies says that sharing is discouraged. Ummm, yeah.

I can see it now, can’t you? Four teenagers show up but “only two of us are eating” they say. They sit down at your only money maker, Booth 5. They ask for for four waters and one asshole orders an endless order of boneless buffalo wings and another asshole orders mozzarella sticks. The server spends the next three hours running back and forth from the kitchen as all four teens shovel handful after handful of defrosted food into their eating holes. “At the end of the day, our servers aren’t policemen,” says Gies. “We’re not going to slap someone’s hand if they reach over and share someone else’s mozzarella sticks.” In other words, “We don’t really care if the servers get totally screwed by our customers and make no fucking money. As long as we have people in the restaurant and we can continue to sell sub-par food to them, we are satisfied.” When the four teens are finally too bloated to stuff one more cheese stick into their bodies, they get their check which is for $21.65 and they leave the server three dollars. Hurrah.

I also predict that parents will bring in their brood of five kids and order one endless app for the table and easily feed five kids on ten bucks. Of course they will only do this if they can’t find someplace where kids eat free. “Well, it ain’t free, but it’s only two dollars a kid,” says Ma Kettle as she sucks down her third Blackberry Long Island Tea Shaker. “And if I only gots to pay ten bucks for all them children to eat, that means I can afford to get the Jack Daniel’s® Sirloin and Grilled Lobster Tail. Thanks, TGI Fridays!!”

Some analysts think that the bold move will destroy the TGI Fridays chain, but let’s be honest. Wasn’t TGI Friday’s pretty much already a big piece of crap? Who the hell even eats there anymore? I guess that’s the reason they are desperate enough to try this approach. It might bring in new business, but it’s not going to be quality business. It’s scraping the bottom of the fast-food chain barrel and it’s only going to make TGI Fridays go the in the same direction of Bennigan’s, Fuddruckers and Friendly’s and that direction is the toilet.

The Endless Appetizer Promo will end on August 24th, but I would like to suggest some other ideas for them to try for their next bid for relevancy:

  • No Tip Tuesdays: Come in on Tuesdays and order whatever the fuck you want and then stiff your server. We don’t care. (This offer is also good on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday.)


  • TGI Fridays Frequent Diner Program: For every dollar you spend you get a point. The more you spend, the more points you get and once you reach 10 points, you can redeem those 10 points for a free party for 200 of your closest friends. The party will consist of unlimited pitchers of water and three orders of Tostado Nachos (you must pay extra for the toppings of refried beans, seasoned ground beef, melted cheese, salsa, sour cream, house-made* guacamole and jalapeños.) You don’t really have to tip your server, because we don’t give a shit. [*house-made is not really house-made. It comes in a big plastic bag that we cut open and squeeze into ramekins.]


  • Buy One Dessert Get Five Free: Yep, you heard right. All you have to do is pay for one crappy ass Chocolate Peanut Butter Pie and you get five more for free. We are happy to put them in a to-go bag for you or you can stay all night and eat them, we don’t care. And don’t bother leaving a tip, it doesn’t matter to us.


  • Complain On Facebook: If you go to our Facebook page and leave a negative comment about anything at all, we’ll make sure to send you a gift card to make up for the fact that you found a piece of plastic in your birthday cake or that the bartender took too long to make your drink and it ruined your Girls Night Out. We also give you a “Get Out of Tipping” card to give to your server so that you don’t have to bother with that pesky extra 20%. We hate our servers.


  • Your Weight in Food: Step on our TGI Friday scale and whatever you weigh is how much food you get for free. If you weigh 250 pounds, you can get 250 pounds of whatever you want. 250 pounds of Jack Daniel’s® Ribs? Sure! 250 pounds of mashed potatoes? No problem? 250 pounds of Parmesan Meatballs? You betcha! The more you eat the more you weigh and the more you weigh the more food you get for free. It’s terrific! The only tipping you’ll do is that of the scale. In fact your server will leave you a tip, because we totally don’t give a shit about our servers or if they make any money whatsoever.


Good luck, TGI Fridays. And my heart goes out to all those servers. As if it wasn’t already bad enough to work at TGI Fridays.