Your Kid, Your Mess. Not My Job.

There is a never-ending debate about who is responsible for cleaning up the mess a child makes in a restaurant. While it is our job as servers to clear plates and make sure our section and the restaurant is neat and clean, it is not our job to get on our knees after a two-year old attempts to eat a plate of spaghetti and meatballs that ended up mostly on the floor, highchair, table, walls, ceiling and the menu. The parents need to accept some responsibility when their child is a miserable fucking failure at feeding itself. I was sent a screenshot of a restaurant review written by someone named Adina who left one star because after his “boy” broke a bottle of vinegar, the server expected him to clean it up. Adina was less than pleased and considered it very unprofessional. Okay, so maybe the server shouldn’t have said he wasn’t from the cleaning company, but, yeah. I too think the parent should be the one to clean up that broken bottle of vinegar. I applaud this server who brought out the mop for the parent to clean up after their own kid.

We servers are more than happy to clean up a reasonable amount after a customer has dined in our section. Well, maybe “happy” isn’t the right word, but we expect to because it’s part of the job. But where is the line? Why should I have to mop up a puddle of vinegar and spend the rest of my day smelling like a douche when Adina could do it and smell exactly the way he did when he first came into the restaurant? Parents need to understand that we are there to serve food, not clean up after their filthy children who have shitty motor skills and can’t hold things.

I have cleaned up plenty of messes and mopped up more than my share of spills over the years. The times that I really resent it is when the person who is responsible for the mess simply expect me to do it and don’t apologize or thank me. Once, I remember mopping up a spilled soda after a kid knocked it over and the mother didn’t even acknowledge that I was doing it. I actually had to mop around her feet because she couldn’t even be bothered to move them out of the way. I wanted to take the mop and shove it up her poop chute and let her walk through the restaurant with the mop hanging out of her ass so she could clean the entire floor, but I didn’t. I was “professional” and did it for her, but when I do that, I expect there to be some kind of financial compensation for it. If you plan on tipping me 20% for my basic service, then you’d better up the ante if a mop is involved.

But back to Adina: it was your kid that broke the vinegar bottle. Dining out in a restaurant doesn’t mean that you have a personal fucking manservant at your fingertips for a couple of hours. If your kids makes an extraordinary mess, then that’s on you. As soon as you accepted the responsibility of being a parent, then you also accepted that you are going to be cleaning up after it. Whether it’s a dirty diaper, a broken bottle of vinegar or puke from too much tequila on his 18th birthday, it is not a server’s job to clean that up. Your child, your mess. Take your one-star review and choke on it.

You Can Live Stream The Bitchy Waiter Show

Not to beat a dead horse, but I need to let you know that my live stage show is happening in just over a week on Sunday, April 22nd. It’s 85 minutes of me singing, bitching and drinking about my life in an apron and I’m pretty sure you will love it. The theater seats 120 people and it is sold out, bitches. However, since I know there are plenty of people who don’t live close enough to New York City to be able to drop what they are doing to come and see me stand on a stage and drink cocktails, I have decided to live stream it.

That’s right, you can watch my show from the comfort of your own home. I have it all set up and now all I need to do is to make sure people actually watch it. You can click here to sign into the website and pre-purchase a ticket. The website requires you to use their currency which are called “notes.” (I don’t know why they want to make it more complicated than it needs to be, but they did.) Each note is ten cents, so $5 buys you 50 notes, which just happens to be the suggested price of my show. And yes, they take Pay Pal and credit cards. So all you have to do is buy your ticket to the show and then sit your ass in front of a computer or cell phone on Sunday, April 22nd at 7:30 EST and you can see my show. I went all out using eight different cameras and editing, so it’s basically gonna look like an episode of The Voice.

The people who are seeing the show live had to pay $15 dollars for a ticket and they are required to order two beverages while they are there, so watching it online is way cheaper. And you don’t have to worry about getting a good view or even putting on clothes.
Please watch so that I know I didn’t waste money on this live streaming idea. I am used to wasting money on tequila and vodka, but not on technology, so please help me know that it was worth it. I promise you will laugh and you might even see the softer side of bitch during the show. I can’t wait to do the show!

BUY YOUR LIVE STREAMING TICKET HERE.

And here is a little sample of what to expect:

Don’t Troll Me, Carlee

I have spent the last several years writing this blog and happily dragging people through the mud who absolutely 100% deserved to be dragged through mud. I have also spent some time doing that to people who maybe only deserved it 75%. Some have called me a troll while others have called me a hero. I honestly don’t care what you call me as long as you tip me 20%. On occasion, I will receive an email or Facebook message from someone who feels the need to give me their unsolicited opinion. I read every single message that people send to me and this morning I awoke to a message from a person named Carlee who wanted to let me know that she thought my email address was unprofessional. Girl, please. My email address is the least unprofessional thing about me, but okay. Since I do my best to respond to as many messages as possible, I did not want Carlee’s message to go unanswered. So I replied. Then she replied back and insulted me again. And I wrote her again. And then she was all, “Oh, wait is this a real person??”

Bitch, do I look like a robot? Yes, I am real. The only thing fake about me is part of my front tooth that is bonded on after it broke off in an unfortunate musical theater accident when I was playing Tobias in a community theater production of Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett slammed my face with a metal pitcher during the “God, That’s Good” number. I also have highlights that cover the gray in my hair that came from waiting tables for too many years and my smile is as phony as pair of silicone-filled titties, but other than that I am real and you hurt me, Carlee. You hurt me real bad. After I explained to you that I was a real person, you totally ghosted me. You gave me a half-assed “my bad,” but where is my fully executed apology? Where is the final message that tells me you would never have said such things if you knew I was a human being with feelings? All this over my “unprofessional” email address. What’s the point, Carlee? Yes, my email address is sideofmustard@gmail.com. The only reason I have that is because I couldn’t get “bitchywaiter,” but you probably would have thought that was unprofessional too, huh? What should my email address be? More importantly, what is yours? Is it something expected like firstname.lastname@gmail.com or is it professionalrudepersonwhosendsmessagesthatnoonegivesashitabout@aol.com?

Carly, look. I don’t want to start anything with you, I really don’t. Lord knows I don’t need another Internet feud. (Just kidding… I would love a new Internet feud!) I am just writing this blog post to try to understand why anyone would go to the trouble of sending a Facebook message to simply criticize their email address. Do you have nothing better to do with your time? Clearly, I don’t. I just wrote a 600 word blog post about absolutely nothing, but I want to know what your story is. If you see this, please write back. Give me the apology I so rightly deserve. Yes, my email address is silly, but who cares? Is it any sillier than what I have been writing about on this blog for almost ten fucking years? No, it isn’t.

The ball is in your court, Carlee. What’s good?

Famous Lady Breaks Up With Famous Guy Because He’s a Bad Tipper

I don’t watch The Big Bang Theory because I don’t need to see a show about a bunch of socially inept nerds hang out with each other since it reminds me too much of my high school years. However, I might have to give it a try since the star of the show, Kaley Cuoco, released a video on Vogue that I am completely obsessed with. In the five-minute clip, she tells the story of a hot actor she was dating years ago that she had to break up with because he was a bad tipper. (Yes, people, that is a legitimate reason to break up with someone.)

The video is filled with anecdotes that any of us who have suffered through cheap ass friends will relate to: she continuously “forget” things in the restaurant so she can run back in and leave extra money for the server, she develops excuses to not go out to dinner, she is mortified to introduce the cheap ass to her friends and family. So she finally broke up with him.

While I applaud her actions, I am left with one big question: who was she dating? Which hot Hollywood actor is a cheap ass bitch? Since I don’t really know much about this Kaley Cuoco person, can someone please do a little investigative reporting and let us all know who she might be talking about? Thanks. And Kaley, if you’re reading this (yeah, right…), thank you for being a big tipper. If you ever find yourself in Sunnyside Queens and want to enjoy a roasted chicken breast, please come find me and sit in my section. I happily accept large tips.

 

p.s. If this video was shot in her house, I want to move there. Did you see that bar??

Finally, A Restaurant I Want to Work In!

I have been in the food and beverage industry pretty consistently since 1985 when I got my first job as a dishwasher at Sirloin Stockade in Victoria, Texas. Since then, I have always had at least one foot in the restaurant industry. Full time to part-time, I have never been far from an apron. For the last year, I have been working with a business partner to help me navigate my next adventure. Against my better judgement, I have decided to take the leap from a bitchy waiter to a bitchy restaurant owner.

It’s crazy and huge and exciting and scary because here in New York, I think the success rate for new restaurants is like1% or something. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen a restaurant open and close within a year, so there is no guarantee that I won’t be like almost every other restaurant and end up broke, rejected and bitter. Then again, that’s pretty much where I am now, so whatever, right?

A lot of people assume that I will open a restaurant called “Bitchy Waiters” and staff the place with servers who are smart asses to the customers, but let’s be honest: only tourists want to go to a place like that and it’s a novelty that will wear off quickly. In the real world, diners want good service and good food which is why I have teamed up with an amazing chef who has trained with Anne Burrell from Food Network. Her name is Mildred Pierce and she is awesome. She will handle the food and the back of house while I will handle the bar and the front of house. (Don’t worry, I get some input on the food which is why there will be deep-fried-panko-crusted mac and cheese balls served with a sour cream dipping sauce.) Mildred and I both agree that the restaurant will be a very casual place to eat and to work in because that is the style that suits us both.

That being said, I have decided on a name for the restaurant which I will tell you at the end of this blog post. BW’s is too much like Buffalo Wild Wings and just having the word “bitchy” in it won’t be good for business. I hate to admit that, but it’s true. Coming up with a name was the hardest thing because it had to be something easy to remember but something I could get the URL for my website, but when I came up with the name, I knew it was right. It gave me chills and you are going to love it!

I have also come up with a few rules for the restaurant:

  • We will always stand up for our staff because we know they are the most important thing in any business. If you have a happy and supported staff, everything else will fall into place and you will end up with happy customers too.
  • The shift meals will be delicious and not leftover crap that is about to go bad that gets sautéed and covered in a sauce.
  • Every shift will end with one shift drink.
  • No pooling of tips.
  • I don’t care if you have tattoos or piercings or pink hair as long as you know how to treat a customer right.
  • Two weeks paid vacation for anyone who has worked there for a year. The pay will be the state minimum wage. Not a lot of money, but better than nothing, right?
  • Sick days! And I will personally cover shifts if I have to do, because serving is never going to leave me. And any tips I make that night will go into a pot that will be divided amongst whoever is working the floor that night. Owners do not get tips!

We don’t have an opening date yet, but I hope to be open for business by August or September. If you are ever in Queens and want to visit, I hope you will! I will let you all know when I start hiring because I think it would be awesome to hire some of you who have been supporting me for so many years. Click here to submit for an early application.

And now, without further ado, you can click this link to see what the name of my new restaurant is!

Dear Abby Doesn’t Know What She’s Talking About

Abigail Van Buren, better known as Dear Abby, has been dispensing advice for many years. One of her first queries came from the wife of a California gold prospector in 1849 who wanted to know how to handle the intense jealously she was feeling when her husband fondled gold bars more than her. Abby told the woman to add some extra baking soda to her cornbread the next time she made dinner and that would remind her husband how lucky he was to have such a fine pioneer wife. Yeah, Dear Abby has been giving shitty advice for over 150 years and she is still going strong. This week, someone wrote the following letter to Abby wanting to know her esteemed opinion:

DEAR ABBY: My cousin’s son is 4 and a picky eater. We love to try new restaurants and cuisines. When we go out to eat, she sometimes brings along a PB&J for her child. Is this acceptable? I always feel a little awkward about it, but then I think the restaurant would rather have us come with something he can eat rather than go to a different restaurant. In her defense, she does have him try the restaurant’s food before she produces the sandwich. — AWKWARD DINER

DEAR AWKWARD DINER: I think it’s perfectly acceptable. Look at it this way: Which is preferable — a child with his mouth full of a PB&J sandwich he’s enjoying, or one who’s loudly complaining that the food is awful and he doesn’t want to eat it?

Hey, Abby: you’re wrong! It is not perfectly acceptable, it’s rude. If the 4-year-old doesn’t like anything on the menu, but the parents of the child are craving something at a particular restaurant, then the parents needs to do one of seven things:

  1. Allow the child come into the restaurant and if it chooses to not order off the menu, let it sit there and be miserable and hungry throughout the course of the meal.
  2. Leave the child in the car to eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was brought from home.
  3. Force feed the child to eat something off the menu. Intravenous feeding tubes are always available at the hostess stand.
  4. Give the kid some money and a curfew, call an Uber and tell it to go eat wherever it wants to and meet at home later.
  5. Hire a hypnotist to convince the finicky eater that the grilled salmon is actually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. While the hypnotist is there, also hypnotize every customer in the restaurant to tip their servers 50%.
  6. Offer the peanut butter and jelly sandwich but tell the child if they choose to eat it that Santa Claus will put them on the naughty list permanently and then watch them struggle with the moral decision as you record it for a Facebook video that will go viral.
  7. Tell the kid this: I’m ordering you something and you’re gonna fucking eat it.

As you can tell, there are many options for this problem and it’s really very simple. You see, restaurants are in the habit of making and selling food to customers. We are not in the habit of loaning out clean plates free of charge so that people can take up valuable space without contributing any revenue to the business. If that Mom of the 4-year-old always has her child try the restaurant food before producing the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then all they are doing is teaching that kid to refuse certain foods until mom reaches into her purse to pull out something the kids already knows he likes. When will that end? Is this kid going to be 16 years old and still looking at Mommy to whip out a sandwich every time the menu isn’t to their liking?

Abby Girl, please. You have never worked in a restaurant and you don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me handle the restaurant advice from now and you can keep on giving advice on the perfect hostess gift (vodka) and how to keep romance alive in a relationship (also vodka).

 

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