I’m old and cranky.
Ahh, old people: you can’t live with ’em, you can’t hold a pillow over their face until they silently drift off to a better place. Don’t get me wrong, I love senior citizens although I can’t help but wonder what happens to tastes buds after the age of 70 that makes every cup of coffee or hot tea seem cold. A four-top has arrived at Table 11 and two of them are people I have waited on many times before. Adding up the ages of all four people, I realize I am dealing with about three centuries worth of crotchetiness. The one couple I am familiar with are not my favorite people. The last time they were in the restaurant, the woman disappeared for about twenty minutes only to finally emerge from the restroom. She came right up to me and said, “In case you were wondering, I just dropped some paper towels into the toilet bowl.”
No, I was not wondering.
I approach the table with trepidation because I know from past experience that the old woman always need substitutions and is never happy with what she ends up getting. I don’t know why she insists on coming back time after time if she is never satisfied. (“Tell me about it,” says her fossil husband.)
“Hello, everyone, how are you tonight? Can I get you anything to drink right now or tell you the specials?” I ask.
Old Lady Toilet Bowl Offender pipes in. “I already spoke with the chef. My husband needs very bland food so whatever we order just tell them it’s for me so they’ll know to make it bland.”
“Bland it is, yes ma’am.”
“But we need some time. Want to bring us some bread?”
Ordinarily, customers say “can we get bread?” or “will you bring us some bread?” but she specifically asks me if I want to bring her bread. I lie to her face and tell her that I do want to bring bread. I return two minutes later with a basket of bread and four plates and begin to set them down.
“I don’t need a plate,” she tells me.
I recall from her last visit that she most certainly does need a plate. Her and her husband are the biggest pigs I have ever seen and when they leave there is always a pile of crumbs and food remnants scattered about the floor and table, but I remove her plate as she grabs for a piece of bread.
“And we’re ready to order. I’ll start with the asparagus and prosciutto appetizer and then I want the cod but I don’t want roasted potatoes, I want mashed. And put the sauce on the side and tell them to use as little oil as possible. It doesn’t need to be bland because this is for me and not my husband.”
The other woman orders a salmon and the other man orders a Caesar salad to start and a soup to follow.
“What can I get for you, Mr. Bland?”
“I’m afraid I will just be an observer this evening as I am recovering from a digestive issue'” he tells me as he rubs his stomach.
I repeat the order and remind the man who ordered the soup that it is a chilled soup and not a warm one.
“Oh, well that changes everything,” he says. “I didn’t know that.”
The truth is he did know that, he just didn’t pay attention to me when I described the soup as a chilled corn soup with a green onion garnish.
“I’ll have the roasted chicken instead.”
“Okay, so I’ll bring out the Caesar salad and then the chicken, is that right?”
I take his silence as a yes and go off to ring their order in. As I am standing at the computer, I watch Old Bland Ass reach for a piece of bread. He doesn’t break a small piece of it off and then eat it, as that would indicate manners and class. Instead, he grasps it with both hands and heads in like he is eating a slice of watermelon or ribs. When he gets to the crust, he discards it onto his plate and grabs another piece. I watch as the Salmon Lady’s jaw drops in disbelief and then as she brings her hand up to cover her open mouth. The man eats bread like a cartoon beaver cutting down a tree; crumbs flying in every direction. It is mesmerizing. I imagine if I gave him a whole fish to eat, he would put the entire thing into his mouth and then pull it back out as a skeleton. I tear my eyes away from the freak show and continue to ring in their food.
A few minutes later, I take the two appetizers to the table. When I place the Caesar salad down, the man looks at me with surprise.
“I don’t want this. You misunderstood when I placed my order. I told you I didn’t want the salad anymore when I found out the soup was cold. Take this away.”
I remove the salad knowing full well that for the second time that night he did not listen to me. I specifically asked him if I should bring the salad out before the chicken and he chose not to answer.
The rest of their meal goes without incident, but I can tell that the one couple is ready to get the hell out of dodge by how quickly they eat their food. As I clear their plates, Mr. No Caesar Salad asks for the check but Old Lady Toilet Bowl has other ideas.
“Oh, but I think I want some coffee.”
I can see Salmon Lady’s face fall with disappointment knowing she has to sit with them for at least ten more minutes.
“Anyone else want coffee?” I ask.
No one else does and Madame Commode decides she wants decaf. “Hot decaf.” I let her know that I don’t have any ready right now so it will take a few extra minutes but I will bring it out as soon as I make it. I offer a look of apology over to Salmon Lady for adding another few minutes to her night of hell.
“Make sure it’s decaf,” she says as I walk towards the coffee maker.
Five minutes later, I am filling her coffee cup.
“Decaf, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you sure?”
‘Yes, ma’am. We didn’t have any decaf so I made decaf just for you. This is decaf.”
“Because I can’t drink regular coffee this late, it has to be decaf.”
“It’s. Decaf,” I say through gritted teeth.
Finally, I give them the check and they pay leaving me a 10% tip which is customary for old people who have lots of special needs and then leave gigantic messes on the floor.
“We’ll see you soon,” she says to me as they head out the door.
“Not if I see you first,” I think.
The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.
kat szulga
I was at a fancy restaurant in the Laurentians years ago with my family. At dinner I sat next to my grandfather who had a problem with his epiglotis, and couldn’t swallow properly. He took a sip from my wine glass, even though I’d ordered red to distinguish from his white. I didn’t know what to do, so I spent the dinner miserably staring at the little floaties in my wine, waving away the oblivious sommelier who kept trying to refill the glass even though only one sip was gone and it wasn’t mine, and waiting desperately for coffee. Finally, after the meal was cleared, the cups were set out, but my grandmother ordered decaf for herself and my grandfather. The waitress took their cups away before pouring coffee for the rest of us. She returned them full of a hot, brown liquid, which my grandmother promptly asked “Is that decaf?” She said “I’ll check. ” leaving the cups behind her. My grandfather took a sip. The bitch came back “No, it isn’t”. “Well that’s okay,” says grandma, “we’ll just hand these cups to the people next to us and you can fetch us some decaf. Oh, it looks like your grandfather had a sip, but that’s okay isn’t it sweetie?” And I stared daggers at that stupid bitch as she walked around the table pouring everyone else’s cups. What the hell did she think she took their cups away to specifically get? So now I was staring miserably at the crust on the rim of my coffee cup. As soon as the table broke up I booked it to the bar where my uncle bought me a g&t. He’d seen the whole thing. Then we played pool.
Suburbanrockdoll
I so hate when they keep asking!
Andrea
I feel your pain!! I got sick of that and so sometimes I gave them regular coffee. I would laugh when I realized they was probably still jacked up and awake as I was going to bed at 4am..
I felt as though despite being pissed at the blue hairs I would just get even!
BobbyAnn
You aren’t so much keeping them up, as you surmise, but you may be screwing with their heart and/or heart medications. It isn’t that they can’t handle the caffeine and are afraid of being kept awake, but caffeine can have a dangerous effect on people who have heart conditions.
Not nice to play games when you don’t actually know in every single instance.
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seiko grand
Elizabeth
“Back in the Day” those elderly customers served meals to their children and they expected them to eat it with no complaints or go hungry. In all fairness these difficult people need to be told exactly what they told their children ‘You have to eat what you order from the menu and if you don’t like it then you can sit in the car’ or ‘shut and eat what’s on your plate or go to your room for the night’. My advice to those customers ‘Put up and shut up!’
DiatribesAndOvations.com
Wow! This post has me roaring even more than usual!
“The man eats bread like a cartoon beaver cutting down a tree; crumbs flying in every direction. It is mesmerizing.” – The Bitchy Waiter
This is sheer brilliance. You ROCK!
Sweet Vermouth
Okay, I’ll admit it: I heart the olds. They have more class and manners than the generations that came after them. I would rather wait on an elderly couple than two middle-aged women, the majority of whom I find to be bitter, demanding and sit there for freakin’ eva! At least the old folks will eat their dinners and leave within a reasonable time-frame, as opposed to the women, who will take up one of our restaurant’s 10 tables and sip one glass of wine for three hours!
Yes, elderly people generally tip less. I expect that so there are no unfulfilled expectations. And, hey, when I’m an old, I will probably be careful with my fixed income as well! They have the right to enjoy a night out as much as anyone else. Careful about what you put out there…we’ll all be old someday…if we’re lucky.
E
Some old folks are lovely. Then there’s the odd one who seems like it’s their occupation to be rude. Kind of like young people really. And then there’s the ones who seem to think their hearing aids still work when they’re in the drawer at home…
we$lie
I’ll never understand why old people always want coffee, regular or decaf. I live in the south and we have an outside patio where I work. One night a couple weeks ago, an old man and his middle aged son came in and wanted to sit out on the patio, even though it was about 95 degrees outside and so humid you could feel the water in the air. What did the old man order? Coffee. And make sure it’s fresh and hot. I was sweating just standing there, but he wants hot coffee? Alright then.
Elliott
Nothing but an excuse for ageism. You should be ashamed of yourself.
The Bitchy Waiter
Can you remind me what I did that was shameful? I was nice to them.
Elizabeth
I am all for equality and am against sexism, racism, ageism or any form of -ism that discriminates against a group. There are no age exemptions when it comes to treating people with respect who do things in good faith. It sounds like you are older given how you chastise the author for her feelings of feeling discouraged and frustrated. There was a time when your generation would tell children that if they didn’t like the food on their plate that they would go to bed without dinner. Your generation wouldnit allow for children to negotiate or request “substitutions” which, bcusty the way, can be quite disrespectful to accomplished chefs and other patrons who are waiting for their food. In short, if geriatric aged customers are not satisfied with the Bill of Fare or can’t make up their minds then stay home.
Jade
I work at a very large coffee chain and believe me, every Sunday morning after church the geriatric set floods in to order their decaf coffee and oat bars and proceeds to move slowly, make a mess, and be generally cantankerous about everything from the color of my apron, the level of the ambient music, the type of lights we use and the fact that we have no soft chairs.
Loved reading the post and I feel your pain…:\
maxi
I keep getting orders for decaf espressos!
Wtf???
sally
If caffeine made me sick or was bad for me for any reason I would NEVER trust a restaurant to bring decaf. It’s just too easy to mix them up–and some servers really don’t care one way or the other.
When I was waiting tables in highschool I remember we really didn’t care towards the end of the night if we had decaf or reg. We used whatever was sitting there because we didn’t want to make a fresh pot (especially if we had already cleaned the coffee machine).
We were all young, even the managers, and really didn’t even understand that caffeine can be dangerous for some people.
That was a long time ago though, early 80’s, and I think restaurants are more aware of allergies and sensitivities now. But I still wouldn’t order decaf in any restaurant if getting regular would make me ill.
Alan
I don’t get why people drink decaf? Isn’t the point of coffee the caffeine?> I’ll never get people.
BobbyAnn
Taste? Some people like the taste of coffee and the heat it provides and aren’t tea drinkers. Just because you aren’t getting a buzz, doesn’t mean you want to the miss the experience.
It’s like Caffeine free Coke and other sodas. They like the taste, just not the buzz.
A-Fib guy
I drink decaf. For 50 years, I drank regular coffee, lots of it. But I have heart problems now. Caffeine is a known trigger for bringing on atrial fibrillation in some people., me included.
So, I order decaf. And I’ve learned that there are few things worse than old, burned, tepid decaf. Yes, I will ask that it be fresh, for the taste. I’m willing to wait. Yes, I will specify that it be decaf, pretty much to minimize risk to my life, if you don’t mind. And, yes, I will ask, again, as it is being given to me, if it is decaf, for certain, because I know how harried servers can be, how easily the request can be lost and how many times I have had servers reply “Oops, sorry, I forgot” as they carried it away to get the decaf.
I pretty much start the tips at 18-20% after rounding UP, going to 25-30%. If you want my money, please indulge me as I try to live out my life.
Peter
I work at a country club in Florida, so old people are my bread and butter. I even have a selection of elderly women who, when I see them come through the door, I immediately go to the kitchen and start brewing a new decaf. I already know when they sit down and I come to the table, they’re going to ask “Do you have any hoooot coffee? Is it freeeesh?” I even do it if they don’t come to my section, just to spare my fellow servers.
Erin
I’m in love with this post, because it reflects everything I feel when it comes to waiting on Older People. Every night I can not wait for 6:30 to come along because I know by that time, all the oldies will be going home to go to bed. =)
anne marie in philly
decaf tastes like piss thru a dirty rag. UGH!
soozycue
I’ve been a server for many years. Although “the decaf drinkers” and “the hot tea drinkers” do tend to grate on the nerves, my parents are there, so I understand. Everyone gets old, and behaviors change, for many reasons. One thing my parents have learned, though, through my struggles in the service industry, is how to tip. I taught them. They did not understand the tipping process, until I explained it to them (many years ago, before the decaf).
Jason
I sometimes feel bad for the server when I go out with my mom and she asks several times if the coffee is decaf. But, considering her body’s reaction to caffeine and how many times she’s gotten regular coffee even when being very clear about the need for decaf, I can understand why she does it.
And when people you’re waiting on don’t listen and then get snippy with you over something you warned them about, that drives me nuts. If you don’t listen to me that’s fine, but when something happens because of it you better be apologetic instead of blaming me.
My favorite reply to old people that talk to me like I’m an idiot is usually “yes ma’am, I’m considerably smarter than I look.” 🙂
CJ
I will give people decaf instead of regular (if we’re out or it’s the end of the night) but I will NEVER give people regular instead of decaf! If I’m not sure I’ll even empty out a carafe and start over.
Joshua Freiwald
Damn dude-
Every time I read one of your posts I am quickly reminded of my Restaurant “career” 20
years ago! Your words are easy to tag the imagery to! Great way to vent, keep it up!
Joshua Freiwald
Boynton Beach, FL
Where ALL the old people are…
annon
“Ill have coffee”
when you deliver it; “That’s decaf, right?”
in my head “NO, IDIOT! IT’S COFFEE!!
COFFEE!!
BECAUSE COFFEE IS WHAT YOU ORDERED!!
AUUUGH!
jarzmom
One of my top pet peeves. Simply drives me bananas!