A Horse is a Horse, Of Course Of Course

It has been way too long since I have just let loose on some annoying ass bitch of a woman who sat in my station. Enough with the Dear Bitchy Waiter, Frazzled Stay at Home Mom and Ricki Lake stories, already. I need to vent about this lady last night who crawled up my ass and gave me a severe case of pruritus ani.

The show I was working was pretty much sold out, so we were crazy busy. I had a five top of women in their sixties who all seemed pleasant enough with the exception of the one bitch on the end who must have not been laid since the repeal of prohibition. She was so tightly wound that her face was all scrunched up in a permanent scowl with lips pursed and brow furrowed. At the end of the night, they gave me three credit cards and wanted $62 put on one of them and then the balance divided among the other two. No problem. I took them to the computer and divided it up but in my haste, I made an error in division which made the two cards have unequal amounts on them. I didn’t understand why but I returned them to the table. At first, I thought that it had not balanced out because sometimes people ask me to put a certain amount on three cards but they have included the tips in that total and then the computer won’t let me initially charge more than the original total. So I was trying to explain this to them, but they didn’t get. Not only because it’s a confusing situation to explain, but because that was not what they had done and I had just made an error, still unbeknownst to me. I told them I would be right back to explain it after I dropped off some other checks. It was then that I figured out what I had done. Tightly wound up bitch was getting all bent out of shape and steam started to shoot out of her ear holes. I ran back to the table and admitted my mistake. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I figured it out. I just put in the wrong total and it’s totally my fault. The credit receipts have not been finalized so just tear them up, I will void them from the computer and if you give me your cards again, I will run them correctly.” I was completely honest about it being my fuck up and it wasn’t even that big a deal, but ol’ Bitch Face was like, “What? Now, I have to give you my card again? Why, why why? I already gave it to you!” One of her friends tried to calm her down by telling her to chill out. I thought she should try rubbing her nose like they do a horse when it’s stressed out. I figured since she had a horse face, why not?

I got back to their table about a whole two minutes later, but Horse Face acted like I had traveled through three different time zones. As soon as I got back to the table she whinnied at me that she needed to leave. It must have been time for her feeding and there was a pile of hay somewhere with her name on it. “Okay,” I responded. I just need you to sign the slip.” She shook her tail to swat at a fly that wasn’t there and said “I really need to go.” A friend of hers explained that I needed her to sign again before she galloped off but she protested “why, why, why?” I had had it. I went up to her long face and said:

Did I ruin your night? Did I just ruin your night? Did you just sit through an hour and a half show with an amazing performer, have a wonderful time and then I made a simple error on your credit card that I fixed and now you’re going to let that ruin your whole evening? Don’t let this ruin your night. Just sign the receipt and everything will be fine.

Her four friends backed me up by saying:

“Yeah, it’s okay Seabiscuit.”
“Relax, Black Beauty.”
“What’s the big deal, Secretariat?”
“Take a chill pill, you horse faced bitch of a whore. I hate going out with you. You’re such a pain in my ass. Tell your jockey to ride your ass home and then eat a carrot and a sugar cube and shut the hell up.” (I may have paraphrased a bit…)

Horse face eked out a half smile because I had made her realize what a petty fucking bitch she was being and if she continued to act like she had a riding crop up her ass, then she would look like an even bigger horsey bitch. She smiled, and said, “No, you didn’t ruin my night.” I smiled back (except mine was fake) and lied that I was glad that her night wasn’t ruined. I jabbed the spur of my cowboy boot into her side and she shook her head and trotted off towards the exit. As her friends followed behind her, they each gave me a look of apology with a glint of gratitude for putting up with their friend Flicka.

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24 thoughts on “A Horse is a Horse, Of Course Of Course

  1. FrothyGirlzCJ

    So. Effing. Funny. I loved the end part where the friends were calling her by horse names. I almost woke the babies with my hee haws. Sidenote: I am retiring my column tomorrow to work on some other writing projects full time. I've enjoyed sharing the server blog world with you if only briefly. Thanks for the traffic, B Dub. I will be reading you always. CJ

  2. bistis6

    I'm so sorry that I put horse-face in your section. If it makes you feel any better, she was nickering at people in line at the podium. Several other patrons wondered aloud whether there was a midnight showing of The Horse Whisperer to which she could be taken. The Dog Whisperer would have worked just as well.

  3. Stephanie

    There's always going to be someone getting their feathers ruffled by something you write lol! Readers should appreciate your honesty and realize that you're saying the things we are all thinking but are too scared to actually put into words. You are so strong to keep your cool with crappy customers cause most of the time they're just waiting for you to lose it so that they have a reason to complain and get you fired anyway, so good job. http://platsandcups.blogspot.com/

  4. Sharlene T.

    She didn't learn anything… That's how she controls the world around her… If she's this way in public, you can only imagine what life is like around her at home… You can always tell class by how the ones that have it treat service people… If only there was a way to ADD charges to a ticket for rude insulting remarks from the diners…

  5. Jenny

    Another example why everyone should have to work a service job at least once in their lives. My grandpa got mad at a waitress for unknowingly dropping his credit card on the floor. I had to yell at him before he yelled at her…

  6. Ann Wilkinson

    "A horse is a horse of course of course, and no one can talk to a horse, of course, unless of course it's a talking horse, and it's name is….". I just love horse-y people. Nicely done, BW.

  7. Kara Hoag

    To Doreen's comment:She probably didn't end up having a different outlook on life. Abrasive people tend to back down fairly easily when confronted. She's still a bitch, don't worry. She was just momentarily out-bitched, but she'll bounce back.

  8. Sra

    I think you are funny, bitchy, truly, but this post, well-crafted though it may be, irks me. Yeah, the woman sounds like a shrew. She has an attitude problem and needs an adjustment. But your post boils down to a big "oh yeah, well you're ugly!" You may have been polite to her in person, but your retort here is pretty base.

  9. PM Taylor

    Totally should not have been in the midst of a large gulp of coffee when I got to the part about the friends trying to soothe the fevered brow of Billy Shoemaker's (RIP) ride home …I HATE when I see this happen … and as a businesswoman who travels frequently, I see it happen all too often (the rude woman, not the slight mathematical error) …Excellent story, well written!PMTThis, That and The Other One

  10. Bouncin' Barb

    And this is exactly why I don't miss this business. Bless your heart for putting up with it. I sure hope the tip was worth it. Usually its not. Love the horse connotations. I can just picture this. Great story.

  11. Doreen F. McCabe

    Actually, you probably helped her look at life a little differently and you weren't rude doing it. Having waitressed, tended and hosted, I always say Oh I am so sooorry……Its better that way for them and it is their night out.And women over 60 don't want to get laid anymore sweetite… sorry but the hormones leave women. mens NEVER go…


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