Welcome to Baby Land


I have been back to my restaurant for two shifts after a six week hiatus. Turns out nothing has changed. As I came up out of the subway to go to work, I saw the same homeless guy with the same cardboard sign saying he had the same disease he had the last time I saw him. I was immersed in depression. Not for him. Me. All of a sudden it was blatantly clear that things were the going to be the same at the restaurant as they were six weeks ago when I left.

Today at lunch, I was reminded yet again how horrible Upper East Side mothers are. Seriously, do they take a class at the Learning Annex on how to be so fucking annoying? Table one: three moms, three babies, three enormous strollers. And as usual, they barricaded themselves in making it impossible for me to serve them anything. They even acknowledged it saying “oh, we’re making it really difficult for you, aren’t we?” but did they move the strollers? Of course not. That would be considerate and also make sense and Upper East Side mothers don’t do those things.

Table two: two women, two babies, two gigantic strollers. I knew these ladies would be a pill when one of them asked me if the Chopped Salad was chopped. No, the Chopped Salad is a sandwich. Bitch, please. Then they sent the Diet Coke back because it tasted funny, even though nobody else in the place felt that way about it. I think their taste buds were off from having their heads too far up their asses. And of course they needed lemons for the water. And when I told one we didn’t have a baby changing station, you’d think I just farted on her. Bitch, please, I fart as I walk by you, not on you.

Table three: two ladies, one baby, one stroller that was bigger than a mid-town studio. This mom was flabbergasted when I told her we didn’t have American cheese for her brat to chew on. “Really? No American cheese?” “Really,” say I. “Well, don’t you think that’s weird?” she asks. I told her that I personally don’t like American cheese so it made me very happy that we didn’t have it. That shut her up and she ordered mozzarella. Her food came out and she was upset that her veggie burger came with fries (read the menu) and needed me to take them off the plate. And then she sent back her brat’s broccoli because it wasn’t soft enough. She prefaced it with a “I hate to be a pain in the neck, but…” Bitch, please. If you hate doing it don’t do it. I hate having my eyes poked out with toothpicks so I just don’t do it. Take a lesson. The baby threw it’s rattle on the ground after banging it on the table for about a hundred hours. When I served their food, I kicked it under the booth so maybe they would forget about it and then I could throw it away when they left. They saw me though. “Oops, I didn’t see that there.” I didn’t get it for them though. I made the fat grandma get it. Who cares?

It’s so nice to be back at work. God how I missed it. I need a drink.

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

3 thoughts on “Welcome to Baby Land

  1. I used to love babies until I had to serve people who had babies. Even now that I have my own baby, I still don’t like other people’s that much.

    I go out of my way to be the exact opposite of women like these, not only because I remember how annoying waiting on people like that was, but to keep from hating myself. I think that’s why I never got comfortable with nursing in public. That, and the fact my kid flails like a fucking windmill and laughs the whole time like she’s mocking me.

    And the changing table thing, what an inappropriately-targeted reaction. If moms like that want to be half as amazing as they think they are, they’d find ways to use the world around them, not bitch and moan till everyone’s bowing at their feet. I learned how to change the kid on my knees while sitting (pants on) on the toilet, courtesy of Teen Mom 2.

  2. Stroller moms are the worst! They are oblivious and self-obsessed just like every other guest. They have no consideration. Yes ma'am, this section is empty right at the moment, but I sure you realize that can be subject to change at any given moment. And no, the stroller stuck in the aisle is a violation of the fire code. So I would love to take your stroller to the closet once you remove the carrier seat and put the damn baby on the banquette! That is why I sat your two top ass at a four top with room for the brat you clueless cast-iron bitch!I don't care what section uncooperative stroller moms are seated. I will be having that stroller in my closet and out of the way of my servers on the floor please-and-thank-you.

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