Toll the bells and alert the news media, because the first true bitch of 2010 has made her presence known. Climb the highest mountaintop and cry out her name because servers across the land should know the name of this most monumental of bitches: Monica.
At the club where I work, all of my customers are the audience for the performer’s show. If the performer is popular, then they have a good audience, I get more people to give amazing service to and therefore put more dollars into my pocket. If a show isn’t sold out, then there are various ways to get a cheaper ticket One of them is a program that basically sells leftover tickets. Well, a woman named Monica came in last week with a reservation using this leftover ticket thingymabob. When someone has that reservation, we know they paid very little for the ticket and I for one look down on them in great disdain. That may be wrong, but I do. Anyhoo. Monica had not brought in her receipt that she should have printed from the Internets so technically, she shouldn’t be allowed to see the show. She was all bellowing that her printer at work was acting up and she didn’t have any ink or she was PMS’ing, blah, blah, blah. Some shit like that. Maybe she didn’t say the part of about PMS’ing. Well, the show had already started by the time she got there so I was now also looking down on her for being tardy and having no respect for the concept of time. Keep in mind, I was not dealing with her at this point. She was at the host stand explaining this and then she spilled over to the manager. What she couldn’t believe was that we didn’t remember her from her previous visits, also with the Ticket Leftover receipt. Really lady? You think we can remember every single person that ever comes into the place? On Sundays I serve three shows with each show having anywhere from 20 to 90 people in it. On a busy day, we may seat over 300 people in one day. But this lady wanted to be remembered. She was just that special.
We eventually sat her for the show because even though we didn’t recall her (sad, puffy, too-round) face, we figured she was telling the truth. This was after about five minutes of her foaming at the mouth and bleeding from her ears, and guess what. Monica has made sure that we will always remember her from now on. I feel like I’m a fucking I Dream of Jeannie because we just made her freakin’ wish come true. I guess she is okay with being remembered that way. Next time, we see her this will be the conversation:
SERVER 1: Oh look who’s comin’ in. That crazy psycho bitch from Ticket Leftovers.
SERVER 2: Oh, yeah that bitch was crazy. She looks fatter.
SERVER 1: She totally does.
SERVER 1: What was her name again?
SERVER 1: Uh, Monica?
SERVER 2: Yeah, Monica. The bitch.
BOTH: Hi, Monica.
MONICA: Oh, hi! You remember me!
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