The Truth Behind the Declaration of Independence

WTF?

WTF?

July 4, 1776

Dear Diary,

So I was just at work minding my own business today at City Tavern when my boss Mr. Drucker gets a message that the fellas down at congress are working on some important shit and they need to have their lunch brought in. Seeing that Mr. Drucker is the only tavern in Philly that offers free-delivery, he gets all the business. So they Pony Express the most complicated to-go order ever and he’s making all these plates of sweet potato biscuits and pepper pot soup when I notice that our regular delivery guy Paul Revere is no where to be found. I know that Drucker is going to tell me to deliver it even though my job is to wash the dishes and clean the outhouse. “Fuck that, Drucker,” I says. “Go find Paul. I’m not using my horse to go all the way down to congress. Not my job, dude. Unless you’re gonna pay me for new shoes for my horse, I ain’t doin’ it.” He tells me that it’s in my contract to do whatever he tells me to do and that if I don’t do it he will fire me and since this job is better than cleaning outhouses for free, I decide to do it.

Those fucking congressman know how to eat, I tell ya. They ordered the whole damn tavern and my horse was bogged down with so much crap that I had to walk him because there was no place for me to sit. They must have ordered 25 lobster pot pies alone. Those are the most expensive thing on the menu so I guess we can expect a tax increase any day to pay for all that, fucking politicians.

When I get there, John Adams is the first one to see me and he’s all, “I had the lobster pot pie with no celery because I’m allergic to it. Which one is mine? I’m starving!”  Umm, hello, Mr. Adams, I’m fine, thanks for asking. God, he’s such an asshole. So he grabs his food and scurries off to his little desk and then all the other dicks want their food right away like they haven’t eaten since the Boston fucking Tea Party. (Which I catered, by the way, and it sucked.) I finally get all their food out to them and when it comes time for someone to pay the bill, they all suddenly have short arms and deep pockets. No one wants to pay. “Oh, just put it on our tab,” they all say. “Mr. Drucker knows we’re good for it.” I tell them I’m going to need a signature and some fucking blowhard named John Hancock appears out of nowhere and signs the receipt like it’s the most important thing he’s ever signed in his whole entire life. That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m more concerned with my tip. Nobody seems willing to tip me on this huge ass to-go order.

I’m just standing there with my hand out like a fucking beggar and they totally ignore me. I am pissed as bloody hell. They’re all at their desks cramming roasted duck triple decker sandwiches into their faces and no one wants to tip me for my service. I wander over to this table that has all this parchment paper on it and at the top of one of the pages I see it says Declaration of Independence. It looks important, like, really important. The first thing I notice is John Hancock’s big obnoxious signature underneath it and a bunch of other chicken scratch bullshit. I can tell at this point that no one is going to tip me and I decide as a big “fuck you” to all of them, I will put my name on their little masterpiece. Who fucking cares? Hopefully, they won’t see it until it’s too late and their boss will make them do it all over again. I grab a quill and some ink and sign my own “John Hancock” right there between Charles Whoever the Fuck and George Somebody Else: Thomas “Bud” Henry! I don’t even have to be sneaky about it because they are all so involved in their food that they don’t even notice some 18 year old kid defacing their precious fucking document. I also pocket the quill and a jar of ink. Fuck you, John Adams and the horse you rode in on.

When I get back to City Tavern, I see Paul Revere and he’s all, “Hey asshole, you trying to steal my job?” I ignore him. Then Drucker wants to know where the money is and he blows a gasket when I tell him to put it on their tab. How the fuck am I supposed to know we don’t let politicians run tabs? Not my problem. By this time, my shift is over so I go back home.

It was a long hot day today and I didn’t make much money, but I do have some satisfaction knowing that I got my name on to some bullshit document called Declaration of Independence. I don’t know what it is but I hope that whoever has to turn it in gets in trouble. I hope it’s John Adams. Man, he seems like an asshole.

 

Good night, diary.    -Bud

Thomas "Bud" Henry

Thomas “Bud” Henry

A Comment on Comments; Old People Edition

A Comment on Comments

A Comment on Comments

When I posted the video from my show of the song “Old People,” I expected both positive and negative feedback. The song is based on Randy Newman’s 1977 hit “Short People” and all I did was change the lyrics around to explain how it feels for me to wait on certain old people. It’s rude, crude, mean and the epitome of what Bitchy Waiter stands for. Well, plenty of people took offense and I must respond to some of the comments because it appears that a sense of humor is lacking for many individuals.

Marilyn says: We are all going to get old one day remember that be kind and there on a fixed income too.

Marilyn, let me tell you three things: Number one, I am less than three years away from getting my AARP card so I’m not exactly a spring chicken. The second thing I want to tell you is to please learn what the fuck punctuation is for. The third thing is “they’re.”

Mary says: I normally think you’re witty, funny and on point. This was meant I’m sure to be tongue in cheek, but cruel and harsh. Not so funny.

Mary, this is called parody or satire. The song, the Facebook page, the blog and everything else about Bitchy Waiter is a representation of what so many servers are thinking. It is not an actual account of how I behave while at work. Duh.

Mark says: You think you’re not going to be old?? Can’t wait. You will probably be the worst because I can tell you are a cry baby little cunt!! I’m 67 and would love to meet you in the ally and kick your stupid little ass!!

I think Mark is grumpy because he lost one of the tennis balls that goes on the leg of his walker or he’s upset that he let his coupon for Old Country Buffet expire. He threatens to meet me in an ally, but he does not specify which one. Ally McBeal? Ally Sheedy? Which Ally? And how exactly will we get inside this Ally person? Typically, I do not enjoy getting inside a woman Ally or otherwise. I may be a cry baby little cunt, but you are very unclear with your threats. By the time I’m 67, Mark will probably be in Hell sitting alone at a six-top waiting for his server to bring him a glass of water with no ice because the cold water makes his teeth hurt.

Arletta says: Old people have no reason to live? Are you aware that the highest rate of suicide in America is among the elderly? I guess you would find that funny too.

Arletta, who has the oldest old lady name I have ever heard of, is mistaken of her facts. According to American Foundation of Suicide Prevention, in 2011, the highest suicide rate (18.6) was among people 45 to 64 years old. The second highest rate (16.9) occurred in those 85 years and older. Close, Arletta, but no cigar. Besides, if Randy Newman can say that “short people have no reason to live,” why can’t I say that about old people? Again, it’s just a fucking joke, so have another hard candy and move on.

My favorite comments came from David. He left many and each one got more and more amusing. You should also know that David has a severe addiction to comma usage.

David says: This is an awful statement to make,not all old people,do not tip well,or are hard to please,but because of this statement,I will be in the future,you best retract this add.

So David is letting us all know that he will change his behavior to live up to the expectation that I have set for him. Don’t you think he would do more for his cause by continuing to debunk the myth that seniors are cheap and difficult to please? I do, but if wants to perpetuate the stereotype, by all means, please do so.

You will be old some day,I hope someone will talk about you ,in the same way,I have had many bitchy waiters,but still tip no more,this is an insult to all seniors ,even the ones who tip 20%you are very rude and deserve all the no tippers.

I don’t need to wait until I am old to have people talk about me. It happens right now on my very own Facebook page. I ignore the things I don’t like. Any senior who is insulted by this song need to learn to laugh at themselves.

Bitch waiter,you have lost me, with your add slamming seniors,so you deserve all you get,I am insulted and always tip 20% or more, well now I will act like the seniors you slammed and referred to us as fucking old people!seeking lawyer for lawsuit ,unless you aplogise, to me.

So now David wants to sue me for hurting his feelings, but if I apologize, he will drop the case. I am not apologizing to some old fart who doesn’t know the difference between a donut and a hemorrhoid pillow. If you find a lawyer who is willing to take this case, I hope it’s a class action suit so every senior citizen in the country can get a piece of all of my worth. They can cut up my apron into 40.3 million pieces and then sew it back together in a craft circle and make a fucking pot holder out of it.

Know we don’t like being called fucking old people,the f word was not needed,just wait to you get old ,which comes faster then you think,if a person is rude or cheap at tipping,it doesn’t matter their age,you hypocrites,wish I knew where you worked so I could notify,the owner of the restaurant,what low life servers you have,if you don’t like your job,get out of the business.

News flash, David; both of my jobs already know about this Facebook page and my blog and some of my co-workers, customers and bosses even came to the show. You know why? Because they understand what a fucking joke is, that’s why.

Get off my page,just a bunch of rude people who are in the wrong business.

Bless his little pacemaker heart, not understanding how Facebook works.

The best comment of all came from Steven. He is the guy who I specifically called out as an old person at 4:05 and apologized for offending him. He is a good friend and co-worker. He gets it.

Steven says: Hey wait! I am the OLD GUY the BW apologized to in his show. I was laughing my way to my next golden year. This guy with the lawsuit ain’t gonna know what hit him with the Bitchy Waiter gets done with him. I can’t wait! Let the ENTERTAINMENT go on!!

Thank you to everyone who liked the video and for those of you who didn’t like it, you can take an extra dose of Ovaltine and kindly move on from the page.

 

Everything You Hate About Waiting on Old People

Old People...

Old People…

As you may or may not know, I did The Bitchy Waiter Show; LIVE a couple of weeks ago. It was great fun and the show consisted of me bitching, singing and drinking about waiting tables. Since the show sold out, I have added two performances, one on August 4th and the other on September 6th, both here in New York City. Click that link above for more information and get your ass to the show. I think you’ll like it but worst case scenario is that you won’t like it but you’ll still get drunk. It’s a win either way.

My favorite number of the night was this gem which was about the joy of waiting on people of a certain age. It’s everything that can be annoying about waiting on a table of “olds” and it’s summed up in a neat and tidy 5 minutes and 34 seconds.  Please enjoy and share.

10 Things Every Server Thinks at Least Once a Day

So true.

So true.

I have been slacking in the blog posts of late because my show was happening and it was taking a lot of time. Between working, rehearsing and finding time for my daily cocktails, writing fell to the wayside, much like Table 7 often does because it’s not in my sight line from the sidestand. As I gear up to start writing on a more regular basis again, please enjoy these ten things that i think about almost every day at work. I venture to guess that some of you think them as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  1. “I wonder what grad school would be like.”

    graduation-gif

    Just do it.

  2. “If those parents don’t care about their kid then neither do I.”

    too bad, asshole

    too bad, asshole

  3. “How much damage could I do with a butter knife?”

    please

    Bitch, please.

  4. “Something stinks. Oh wait, it’s my uniform.”

    step away from the Axe Body Spray

    step away from the Axe Body Spray

  5. “I need these old people to get out of my section.”

    GTFO

    GTFO

  6. “Lemme just eat this real quick before my manager sees me.”

    nom, nom, nom

    nom, nom, nom

  7. “Maybe I could just hide in the walk-in for twenty minutes.”

    buh bye

    buh bye

  8. “I need a drink.”

    anything. on the rocks.

    anything. on the rocks.

  9. “People suck.”

    Noooo!

    Noooo!

  10. “I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

    outta here.

    And scene.

Waiting Tables Summed Up in 4 Minutes, 18 Seconds

Thadra Sheridan

Thadra Sheridan

Thank you, thank you, thank you to Thadra Sheridan who wrote and performed the best fucking video about waiting tables ever. I bow down to her very existence because everything about this video is sheer perfection. I almost didn’t post it because I am such a small, small man that it is hard for me to acknowledge people who are better at bitching about waiting tables than I am, but Thadra has proven me wrong. She has nailed it. Because I am so desperate and needy, I have chosen to embed her video into my blog so that I can capitalize on her brilliance.

This bitch is good.

Real good.

Watch this video and then share it. Share it, my friends! Help the world understand what we already know: that waiting tables is hard work and that we may smell like a fucking fajita plate, but we’re people dammit. Fajita-smellin’people!

Go visit Thadra at her website.

Follow this chick on Twitter.

Go check her out on YouTube.

Waffle House Waitress Gets $1000 Tip. Still Has to Work at Waffle House.

Shaina Brown gets $1000 tip.

Shaina Brown gets $1000 tip.

In today’s “Lets Screw With A Waitress” news, we have Shaina Brown who works at a Waffle House in North Carolina who was left a $1000 tip by a good samaritan but then Waffle House made her give it back thanks to a policy that was created by someone who doesn’t depend on tips for a living. According to the Charlotte Observer, Shaina works the late night shift and a customer left $1500 on a credit card voucher; $1000 for her and the other $500 for a woman who was eating in the restaurant who looked like she needed it. (Cue me to go sit in a Waffle House in drag and express neediness as I get free refills and play Candy Crush.) Head Waffle House Honcho spokesperson, Kelly Thrasher, explains that Waffle House has some policy that doesn’t let people give good tips unless it’s cash or check because we all know that we carry our checkbooks around with us and our wallets are full of thousand dollar bills. Bitch, please. If someone wants to tip $1000, they can. She says that Waffle House does this in case a customer wants to dispute the tip or ask for a refund. First off, if someone writes in a tip and then signs the voucher, sorry, but it’s mine now, end of story. I don’t care how drunk your ass was when you were feeling all generous and signed it, too bad so sad. I would suspect that Waffle House just didn’t want to pay a processing fee on the charge amount and that’s why they denied Shaina her tip. When the Big Tipper heard about the story, he promptly wrote out a check for Shaina because he knows that Waffle House needs to change their name to What the Fuck House.

Shaina has her tip, the do-gooder has his happy warm feeling and Waffle House now has thousands of people thinking they screwed over a hard-working single mom with two jobs. I guess I can understand their policy of not letting people charge huge tips on a credit card. Maybe they are protecting their customers. I suppose it wouldn’t be out of the question for some less than honest server to add a $1000 tip on a credit card and then quit after getting the money but before the customer realized what had happened. Or what if a thief was in cahoots with a server and the thief used a stolen credit card to leave a big tip for the waiter and then they split at after the server got his money from the? I suppose those things could happen. It’s too bad that Shaina was just being rewarded for doing her so job so wonderfully and it had to be tainted by corporate policy.

I wonder what would happened if Kelly Thrasher was going to get her big Christmas bonus of a $1000, a honey-baked ham and a week supply of waffles but her boss was like, “Oh, wait a minute, hold up, sweetie. We have changed our policy now so if you want that bonus, we are going to need to verify that the company really meant to give it to you. I need you to download some forms and then fill them all out stating what exactly you are expecting for your bonus. Once they are complete, I need you to send that to me in an email, in PDF format, and then I will forward that on to our Christmas bonus department. Once they have confirmed that it was in fact heir intention to give you this money, ham and waffles, I will ask that you file a claim for it. That claim form can be downloaded and sent to me in PDF format. If everything goes as planned you should have your Christmas bonus in June. Thanks, Kelly.” Pretty sure if that’s what happened for Kelly to get her bonus, she’d change that system right quick.

Congratulations to Shaina and thank you to the anonymous philanthropist who was just doing something nice. You know who really gets the shaft in this story? The needy looking lady who was sitting in the restaurant that the man wanted to give $500 to. Nobody knows her name, so nobody wrote her a check for $500. She probably doesn’t even know that she was almost $500 richer. She was just minding her own business eating waffles and lookin’ all needy and shit and she will never get her money. I’m sure some lady in North Carolina is going to come out any minute and say, “Hey I was at that Waffle House recently and I’m pretty sure I was the desperate looking lady that was supposed to get $500. Where’s my money.” If you see this woman, look closely at her. If she has curly Brillo pad hair with highlights, bloodshot eyes and is drinking a margarita, it might be me.