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The Little Girl Needs It Bad

"I need a fok."

“I need a fok.”

This is the story of an adorable three-year old girl who came into my section and was unable to say her “r’s.” It got awkward.

Dad arrives early at the restaurant to secure a good table on the off chance that it will be busy on Thursday night at 5:05 PM. He has the pick of the tables seeing that he is the only one in the place and he chooses a four-top explaining that his wife and daughter will be arriving shortly. He immediately requests a glass of chardonnay which I bring to his table about one minute later. I watch him as he sips his wine and plays Words With Friends on his cell phone. About ten minutes later, a woman and a little girl arrive. The girl has blond hair pulled into two pigtails and she is wearing silver shoes and a little peacoat. The woman spots her husband and walks towards him, but the little girl stays by the front door refusing to move. Dad gets out of his chair and kneels down with his arms spread open expecting his daughter to run to him for a big hug. She doesn’t.

“Hey, Sam, come here!” hhe pleads.

She still doesn’t budge.

“Come give me a hug!” he says.

Again, the little girl remains motionless at the front of the restaurant. Dad gets up to go to her, passing his wife on the way.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her today,” she says as she heads to the table and picks up his glass of Chardonnay.

When Dad gets to his daughter, she backs away and says, “No, Daddy, go away. No!”

I am standing behind the bar watching this and I can see that the father is embarrassed by his little girl’s behavior. He probably thinks I am assuming the worst about him, like he hits her or burns her with cigarettes. Actually, all I am thinking about is that I have four hours and forty five minutes to go before my shift is over and I am wondering if it’s beneficial for me to to do a wine-tasting of the wines even though I have already tasted all of them.

He convinces the girl to join them at the table and I go to take their order. Whatever issue was happening between the little girl and her dad seems to have been resolved by the time I get there and this is when I notice that she can’t say her “r’s.”

“Daddy, I want a hambugger and fench fies,” she says. “And apple juice.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t have apple juice,” I tell the dad.

Not missing a beat, the tyke pipes in and says, “Then I want oange juice. Daddy, I’m hungwy, ah you?”

The mom asks me if I can bring some bread or crackers and the little girl confirms that she indeed does want some “bwead and cwackahs.”

As I go to place the order for the family, I think how cute it is that she can’t say her “r’s.” It reminds me of Episode #8 of Season 2 of The Brady Bunch, “A Fistful of Reasons.” It’s the one where Cindy has a lisp and mean ol’ Buddy Hinton tells her, “Baby talk, baby talk, it’s a wonder you can walk.” Peter stands up for Cindy and hits Buddy, knocking his tooth loose and causing him to lisp now. Cindy gets the last laugh when she is able to taunt him right back with the same mean words.

 

 

 

Anyway, the little girl at Table 11 sounds cute. That is until, I take the bread to the table and she accidentally knocks her fork to the floor.

“Daddy, I dwopped my fok.”

Fork without the “r” suddenly sounds dirty to me.

I tell her I will get her a new one, but she is upset about her original fork being taken away.

“I need a fok!” She screams. “Where’s my fok? I need a fok right now! Daddy, give me a fok, Daddy. I need a fok!! I need a fok before I can eat. I need a fok and I need it wight now!”

Urgently, I rush to the sidestand to retrieve another fork so this child can’t stop screaming at her father to “fok” her. I hand the fork to her and she turns her face towards me and with the sweetest smile and cutest little voice imaginable, she tells me, “Thank you vewy much fa the fok.”

They need to get this girl to some speech classes or else start referring to forks as “eating utensils.” I don’t need to hear a three-year old girl screaming about her need for a good fok.

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Grinch Fires “Santa” Two Weeks Before Christmas

Lance Bankerd wins.

The Grinch who stole Christmas no longer has to be alone his cave with nothing to do but curse Whoville and wait for summer, because the Internet has found his soul mate. Her name is Alice and she works at Bowman’s Butcher Shop in Aberdeen, Maryland. Bitchy Waiter reader Lance Bankerd worked for Alice for four months while he was in between acting jobs and his next restaurant gig. All was well and good with the pair until one day last week when Alice’s true Grinchiness spotted a hole in her panties, squeezed its way out of her ass and left a shart stain on the spirit known as Christmas.

Lance explains it like this:

This past Thursday, I mentioned to my boss that I was playing Santa Claus for the children of Active Duty military parents in Aberdeen Proving Ground in Harford County, Maryland. My sister-in-law planned the event and tickets have been sold for some time. The kids all got to eat pancakes, hear me read stories, and get their pictures taken with me. All proceeds benefit the base’s childcare center, my sister-in-law and I are both volunteers. My boss reacted by telling me that she wanted me to work on Saturday.
Again, this was Thursday, two days before the Saturday she wanted me to work. I explained my situation. These plans were made months in advance and it was impossible to cancel last minute with out causing tears and making a good cause lose money. I have never worked on a Saturday in all of the time I worked there. In fact, I was hired to only work Monday-Thursdays and somewhere along the line they started making me come in on Fridays. (Frankly, I needed the money so I just rolled with it.) After I explained she responded with an ultimatum:

Show up on Saturday OR lose my job.

I explained that this was impossible. I made a commitment, on my day off, to children, at Christmas. I couldn’t cancel on them two days before they would be taking their Christmas pictures on my lap. So, she fired me. On the spot. Less than two weeks before Christmas. Because, I was playing Santa for kids on my day off.

The worst part is; I really loved my job and I thought that my boss and I were friends.

Now, I have had some mean bosses in my time, but this Alice takes the cake. (It’s probably a cake made of baker’s chocolate, stale trail mix and turds.) She is going to fire someone two weeks before Christmas for doing something on his scheduled day off? I spoke with Lance and know that his wife is in school and the paycheck he was getting from the butcher shop was what was sustaining them. He is now unemployed while Alice is currently making plans to move in with the Grinch and make him get rid of his black leather couch because it looks too “bachelor pad in here.”

Lance’s sister-in-law has started a donation page to help him and his wife stay on their feet as he searches for another job. We all know how difficult it is to get a job at this time of year, but it’s especially hard to find a restaurant job now. No manager is going to hire a server two weeks before the slowest time of year. If you want to do a good deed, click here to donate. Or if you are in the Maryland area and know of a job for Lance, leave a comment below so that Lance can reach out to you.

As for Bowman’s Butcher Shop and Alice the Grinch, I hope they are happy with their decision to fire a person who was trying to do something nice for the world. Lance may be without a job, but we all know that he has something they don’t: a soul. Someone who sacrifices their time to do things for others will always win out in the end.

Here is what you can do:

-Leave a comment below for Lance to let him know he has supporters around the world.
-Donate $5 to Lance and his wife.
-Share this, so everyone will know that it’s not right to be punished just because you want to do something nice for someone.

“Ah, I just heard Alice rip one. I love her.”

 

 

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10 Things Elf on the Shelf Would Need To Report About Me

Creepy McCreepster

Creepy McCreepster

It’s no big surprise that I don’t have kids although I can see the benefits to having them. There was a brief period that my husband and I thought about adopting, but we went to Craigslist and found a housekeeper instead and the urge quickly faded away This time of year, I hear lots of parents lamenting about all the presents they have to buy for their children and the stress that comes with it and they all swear by the use of the creepiest thing I have ever heard of, Elf on the Shelf. It’s this weird looking footless elf that parents use to blackmail their kids into good behavior claiming that the Elf on the Shelf is watching them all day and then flying back to the North Pole at night to report to Santa Claus what went on. Parents have told me that when their kids are misbehaving, all they have to do is go get the creepy fucker off the shelf and remind them this little tattle-tale asshole is going to make sure they don’t get any presents. What a mind fuck. Isn’t it bad enough that Santa Claus sees them when they’re sleeping and knows when they’re awake? It’s like a police state or George Orwell’s 1984, but instead of Big Brother, it’s an elf with no feet who stares at you all day.

It makes me happy that I do not have to alter my behavior for fear that a $29.95 piece of plush is going to tell on me. However, it did make me want to write a list of 10 things I have done that the Elf on the Shelf would have definitely needed to tell Santa about.

 

1. That time I live Tweeted about the new crappy bartender at work.


2. That time I repeatedly taste tested the same bottle of wine over and over again until I was absolutely sure I would be able to describe it to my customers.

 

3. That time I punched in five minutes early but then went next door to eat a slice of pizza before work because I saw what the cooks had in mind for shift meal.

 

4. That time the customer asked for regular coffee but we only had decaf ready and I didn’t feel like making another pot.

 

5. That time I drew for Secret Santa and I pulled out three names “by accident” and then chose which one I wanted to keep because if I’m gonna buy a present for one of the assholes I work with, I want to be happy about it.

 

6. That time I took my shift meal for the sole purpose of Instagraming it an then just threw it away.

 

Eat up. Thursday shift meal is here! A photo posted by thebitchywaiter (@thebitchywaiter) on

 

7. That time I told my manager I couldn’t mop the floor that day because I had hurt my knee when really I just thought the floor looked clean enough.

 

8. That time I crop-dusted Table 16 because I knew they would assume it was their baby. Twice.

 

9. That time I didn’t feel like rolling silverware, so I just threw all the clean silver back into the bus tub.

 

10. That time Table 5 told me they wanted a salad instead of fries, but I “forgot” to tell the kitchen so that when the fries came up, I had something to eat.

 

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Mistletoe, Drones and TGI Friday’s Do Not Mix

Deadly mistletoe.

Last week, a TGI Friday’s in Brooklyn launched what may be the dumbest idea in the history of holiday restaurant promotions. It’s called “Mobile Mistletoe” and it’s a remote-controlled drone that has piece of tired-ass mistletoe stuck to it and then some TGI Friday’s employee flies it around the restaurant so that people can kiss when it hovers above them. Yeah, nothing can go wrong with that. It sounds safe to me and I know that whenever I’m having a plate of Bacon Mac & Cheese Bites at TGI Friday’s, the only thing that can make that experience better is having blades of steel, inches from my head, spinning at a million rpm’s. Oh and with a poisonous plant hanging from it makes it even more terrific.

According to the New York Post, photographer Georgine Benvenuto was there covering the store for the Brooklyn Eagle because she apparently drew the shortest straw at work that day. As all the other photographers were taking pictures of protest marches and racial injustices, she was at TGI Friday’s snapping pictures of a mechanical holiday cheer spreader. The operator, David Quiones, was attempting to land the drone on a reporter’s head when it began to spin out of control. Again, nothing makes your visit to TGI Friday’s more exciting than having a drone land on your head. The blades ended up cutting Benvenuto’s face on her nose and chin. It also got caught in her hair. (Cue the woman at Table 17 to grab a a coupe of those stray hairs and toss them onto her Pecan Crusted Chicken Salad in an effort to get her meal for free.)

Benvenuto says that she is not going to sue but she does question whether or not drones in restaurants is a safe idea. A TGI Friday’s spokeswoman sharted out a statement claiming, “This was an isolated event during a demonstration for the reporter and photographer only, given by the licensed operator of the drone during the last day of this particular promotion,” she said. “Of course, safety is our first priority and we are sorry that this isolated incident occurred.”

I dunno, y’all, do we really need drones in a restaurant flying around with mistletoe? Can’t the manager just give the hostess ten extra bucks to wear a Santa hat and run around with mistletoe hanging off a long stick? And looking at that video, the drone creates quite the wind gusts as it’s whizzing overhead. Isn’t that just asking for someone to complain that their Baby Back Ribs got cold because if it? And what about when a piece of that mistletoe falls off into someone’s White Cheddar Broccoli Soup and makes them sick? (Wait, it’s TGI Friday’s, nevermind…)

Anyway, Merry Christmas, everyone. Please stop by my restaurant this weekend where I will be shooting egg nog from a Water Blaster and garnishing all my plates with sprigs of ivy and holly berries.