Yearly Archives: 2016

For the People Who Complain About Everything

This is the story of the man who did not know what he liked to drink.

He’s a tall man who I have never seen before. His legs are like two tree trunks attached to a torso and when he sits down at Booth 8, it seems he would be more comfortable at a table. Since he doesn’t say anything about his knees rubbing the underside of the table top, I decide to not offer him another place to sit.

“What’s your darkest beer?” he asks me.

Without hesitation, I tell him we have Guinness.

“No, that’s too dark,” he says and asks for something that is dark but not quite that dark. As I stare at the menu in his hands that has a list of every beer we sell, I ask him if he would like a Brooklyn Lager.

“What’s that like?” he wants to know.

“Well, it’s an amber lager with a hoppy taste and a malty bitter aftertaste. Want to try it?”

This is when he tells me he wants the least hoppiest beer we have so I suggest a Hefeweizen which is basically a wheat beer and not at all dark. At long last, he agrees to order it and I can tell that this guys is going to be really a super lot of fun to take a food order from. After he takes a few sips of his beer, he lets me know he does not like it but “will drink it anyway.”

I don’t care if he drinks it or not, because it’s already on his bill and it’s not coming off. Why do people think they are doing me a favor by suffering through eating or drinking something that they don’t like? You ordered it, you pay for it. That’s how it works. Whether you eat it, stare at it, stab it with a fork, put it in a to-go bag or ask me to throw it away, you are paying for it. You can take that rare steak home with you and call it your pet cow for all I care. It’s yours.

After he places his surprisingly simple food order, he asks for another beer, this time a Corona which is neither dark nor hop-free.

When his roasted chicken arrives, he is ready for another drink, but wants to look at the cocktail menu. After studying it like he’s about to take the LSAT for Harvard Law School, he decides on an Old Fashioned which I promptly ring in. Moments later, I set the perfectly crafted cocktail before him and as he picks it up, he eyes the fruit in the glass.

“Hmmm, a cherry. Well, that’s interesting.”

“Actually, it is interesting,” I say. “This cocktail has been around since 1881 when it was invented by a bartender named James E. Pepper. I’m pretty sure it always had citrus in it, but the cherry has been pretty standard for as long as I’ve been waiting tables and I started at Bennigan’s back in the early 1900’s.”

He does not laugh at my joke which doesn’t bother me one bit because, quite frankly, I no longer give a flying maraschino fuck about him. He takes a sip of the cocktail and declares that it taste like water. “But I’ll drink it anyway,” he tells me.

“Yes, you sure will, asshole, I mutter to myself as I walk away from his booth.

At long last, he has somehow sucked down the watery Old Fashioned and now wants a mojito. If this guy is trying to diversify his alcohol intake, he’s doing a splendid job. I quickly carry a mojito to him, place it before him and wonder what he will have to say about it.

“That’s a lot of mint.”

“Yes, yes it is. Mojitos always have a lot of mint.”

He takes a sip of the cocktail and again tells me it tastes like water. I immediately decide I want to live where he lives because if his tap water comes out tasting like an Old fashioned or a mojito, he has the world’s perfect faucet. No longer would I be challenged to drink eight glasses of water a day, for that would happen before breakfast.

As I walk away from him, I hear him say “I’ll drink it anyway.” I print his check and cram it into my apron, hopeful he doesn’t ask for coffee, a port or some other liquid refreshment that will surely only bring disappointment to him.

Just drink water, asshole.

An Applebee’s Birthday is the Best Birthday

Happy Birthday, Beverly! We here at Applebee’s do a lot for birthdays! First of all, we gather the entire staff around your table so we can all give thanks that you were born. It’s sorta the same thing as Christmas, except instead of being thankful for the birth of Jesus Christ Our Savior, we’re just really pumped that Beverly was born! As soon as everyone has their five minutes each to tell you what a special snowflake you are, the real festivities begin! Clowns, balloons, monkeys, crazy hats, water sports and a 30-minute foot massage is what we have in store for you!

Clowns: they will sit at your table and make farting noises the entire time you are at the restaurant. You will also get to be part of an all out pie-throwing party! (Please note: the “pies” will actually be plates of Triple Chocolate Meltdown®) You will be covered in “pie.” In fact, if you don’t find some type of dessert crammed into your deepest orifice, we will keep throwing pies until that happens. Fun!

Balloons: our very own in-house balloon artist will create a one-of-a-kind balloon sculpture of you! That’s right, Beverly! It will be life size and it will be scary as hell.

Monkeys: your meal will be brought out to by a group of trained chimpanzees who will dance for you if you toss them a shiny penny. They will be wearing little bow ties, vests and teeny, tiny little fezzes. The monkeys will also join the clowns in making farting noises. However, while the farts from the clowns will be created by various whoopee cushions, the farts from the monkeys will be actual farts. (Please note: we are not responsible if a monkey rips off your face or the face of any of your guests. Should that happen, just remember how cute they were while they were doing it.)

Crazy Hats: you and your entire party will be given wacky hats that will create just the right atmosphere for your celebration. From sailor hats, to top hats, to beanies, everyone will love wearing fun hats. But don’t you worry, Beverly. You will be wearing a crown because you are a pretty, pretty princess who deserves nothing but the best!

Water Sports: we will clear the dining room of all other tables and turn it into a swimming pool where you can play Marco Polo and high dive off a hostess stand. It may seem crazy that we would ask everyone else to leave just so we can build you a swimming pool, but it’s not every day that you celebrate a birthday, is it? Birthdays are a huge deal and if a few of our other customers are accidentally drowned while we “fill the pool,” it’s alright. It’s what they get for coming to Applebee’s on Beverly’s birthday.

Foot Massage: we will have our pantry cook, Rosalia, stop what she is doing and come rub your feet for half an hour. She will use a handful of crushed Churro S’mores to exfoliate your feet and then soak them in your choice of BBQ, spicy sweet Asian chile, classic & hot buffalo or thai peanut sauce. (Please note: allow up to ninety minutes for this massage to be completed as Rosalia will have to stop and go to the kitchen each time someone orders something in pantry.)

Beverly, we cannot wait to have you as our guest here at Applebee’s! We know that birthdays are a very rare thing and not everyone gets to have one, so we take them seriously. It is our goal to give you a birthday you will never forget! See you soon, birthday girl!

Jesus Celebrates 21st Birthday at Olive Garden

“Thank you for calling Olive Garden of Nazareth, this is Bathsheba can I help you?”

The voice on the other line is weary and tired because this is easily the tenth restaurant he has called this morning.

“Umm, hi. My name is Bartholomew and I wanted to make a reservation for my friend’s 21st birthday.”

“Absolutely, we would love to celebrate with you. How many people and what day can we expect you?”

“Well, there will be ten of us on December 25th at, like 7:30.”

“Ohhh, I am sorry,” says Bathsheba. “We are closed that day for Christmas. You know, ever since Jesus was born twenty-one years ago, we all get an extra day off so, yeah. I can fit you in on the 26th, will that work?”

Bartholomew decides to drop the name bomb on this hostess to see if it will change her perspective.

“Actually, the birthday party is for Jesus. He’s my best friend and each year everything is closed on his birthday. This year, seeing that he can legally drink and everything, I thought it would be nice if he could celebrate his birthday in a restaurant. Usually, we just hang out in a donkey stable and do shots, but I wanted something special this time.”

Bathsheba sighs heavily. “Yeah, no, we’re closed. Maybe try the IHOP over in Zarzir? I think they stay open for his birthday. And tell Jesus I love him!” And with that, Bathsheba hangs up the phone.

Frustrated, Bartholomew slams the receiver back onto its crook. “IHOP doesn’t even have a liquor license,” he mutters, “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna ask Jesus to turn water into wine on his own birthday.”

Back at Olive Garden, Bathsheba tells the other hostess Salome about the phone call from Jesus’ best friend. “Can you believe he thinks that we’re gonna stay open just so he can celebrate his birthday? Ummm, hello? You may have brought everlasting light into my heart, but that’s my day off.”

Salome is shocked to hear such disdain for Jesus. “But Bathsheba, he’s the son of God. And I read on TMZ that he is supposed to die for our sins some day. He’s kinda a big deal.”

“Whatever,” snorted Bathsheba. “Happy birthday, Jesus but it’s not my fault that you have a shitty birthday.”

Salome looks at the caller ID and writes down Bartholomew’s phone number. Later that day, she hesitantly calls Bartholomew who is at the end of his rope trying to plan a birthday party for Jesus. He picks up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, my name is Salome and I work at Olive Garden. I understand you want to have a party of ten on December 25th. What time would you like to be here?”

Surprised, Bartholomew clears his throat. ”But I thought you were closed that day. Did something change?”

“Yes. Yes, it did. What time can we expect you?”


“We will see you then,” says Salome. “”Have a good day!”

Salome did not know how she was going to manage this, but she knew it had to happen. “I mean, Jesus Christ, it’s Jesus Christ’s birthday, right?” she says out loud. And then she begins to pray.

“Dear God, I need your help. It’s your son’s birthday in a couple of days and I’m sure you already got him something really great, but I want him to be able to come to Olive Garden of Nazareth. Our front door says ‘when you’re here, you’re family” so I want to live up to that slogan. Help me make this happen for Jesus. Amen.”

Three days later, Bartholomew is at Jesus’ house. He watches as Jesus opens his birthday present from his parents, Mary and Joseph.

“Oh. My. Dad. You got me more frankincense?? I cannot believe you got me more frankincense. I ran out of this like 15 years ago, thank you!”

“Your father said it was too expensive, but I said ‘no, Joe, he’s 21 years old. I want him to have some more frankincense.’ Isn’t that right Joseph? Always so cheap, your father.”

Joseph laughs as Mary pokes him playfully in the ribs. “You deserve it son of God,” he says. “Just don’t use it all in one sitting, you hear me?”

Jesus gives his parents a hug and Bartholomew promptly announces they have dinner reservations. The four of them pile onto the donkey and head over to Olive Garden. In the parking lot, they are greeted by six of their friends, Simon, James, Thomas, Phillip, Esther and Sussudio. They all yell “surprise” at him and Jesus is in shock.

“You guys! I feel so popular right now. And are we really eating at Olive Garden? Really? I thought they were closed today. This is so wonderful. I have the best friends ever. Bartholomew, was this your doing? Come here, you!’

The two friends embrace heartily, Bartholomew feeling that the hug ends just slightly sooner than he would have liked. Jesus pulls away from his somewhat clingy friend and laughs uncomfortably.

At the front door, Salome appears. She is holding a basket of bread sticks and two jugs of wine.

“When you’re here, your family!” she exclaims. “Come in!”

As everyone is ushered to the table, Bartholomew quickly realizes they are the only ones in the restaurant. He goes to Salome and asks her how she managed for this to happen.

“Well, I prayed to God for this to happen. I prayed every day for three days straight for him to open the eyes of management so they could see how very important this day is for Jesus Christ our Savior.”

“And God answered your prayers, right?”

“No, actually I never heard back from him, so I stole the keys from the manager and just opened the place myself. I’ll do all the cooking and serving.”

“I am so grateful, thank you,” says Bartholomew. “But can you cook for this many people?”

“Oh, sure it’ll be fine. I found the directions for everything and it’s pretty much all just microwaved. I can do this. I just really wanted Jesus to have a great 21st birthday. Wine?”

She fills his glass and then heads back to the table to pour wine for Jesus and his friends.

“Happy birthday, Jesus. Or Merry Christmas or whatever! Crispy Chicken Ravioli Supremo for everyone!”

When Holiday Parties Go Bad

A holiday party in Dyersville, Iowa took a frightening turn when one employee shanked another employee with a candy cane that had been whittled down to a very dangerous weapon. Police were called to Kayla’s Kuntry Kitchen sometime late Sunday evening after the popular restaurant had closed early for its annual Christmas party. Waitress Heather Dipinsky, 24, was arrested on the scene while her co-worker, 43-year-old Darla Dipinsky was treated for minor injuries. The two women are mother and daughter.

Kayla Kuntablo, the owner of the restaurant, was shocked by what went down. “Them two have been at each other for a couple of weeks. It all started when Heather got in the weeds one night and her Mama went and covered her section for a bit. Well, Darla kept them tips from Heather’s tables and it just went downhill from there. They love each other but sometimes they just don’t like each other, you know?”

Co-workers say the feud had escalated earlier in the day when Darla spilled some hot chocolate onto her daughter’s lap, claiming it was an accident. Line cook, Robert “Bobby Boy” Reed says he saw it happen and it “certainly didn’t look like no accident.” He goes on to say, “Even if it was an accident, it doesn’t matter. Our hot chocolate machine sucks and it’s barely lukewarm anyway.”

After the eatery closed, the group had some egg nog and began playing the Dirty Santa gift exchange game where one person is entitled to “steal” a gift from someone else. Everyone had their eye on the $20 gift card from Wal-Mart that had been “stolen” several times already. When Darla opted to take it from her daughter, Heather produced the candy cane that she had been sucking on for 15 minutes, creating a “shank” and attempted to stab her mother in the leg. The wound was superficial. Heather was immediately subdued by a co-worker who knocked her to the ground with a ten pound bag of potatoes that some asshole was trying to pan off as a fucking Christmas present when everyone knew he had just gotten the potatoes from dry storage.

Police and paramedics arrived quickly seeing that local sheriff, Roscoe Coltrane happened to be next door having a beer. Darla was given a Dora the Explorer Band Aid and quickly went in for her fifth Solo cup of egg nog.  As Heather was put into handcuffs and the “weapon” was confiscated, her mother was quoted as saying, “I ain’t surprised she was able to get that candy cane into such a sharp point. She’s real good at sucking. Been doing it since seventh grade.”

The party continued and forty-five minutes later, Heather returned. The elder Dipinsky decided to not press charges and the two have since made up. However, they have decided to no longer work the same shifts; one will work the breakfast/lunch while the other will do dinners. No word on who ended up with the $20 gift card from Wal-Mart.

You can read the whole story here.

Waiter Walks Too Loudly, Woman Complains

In my continuing quest to find the most ridiculous complaints from restaurant customers, I have come across a real doozy of a grouse proving that some people seem to go out of their way to be miserable hairs in their own assholes. A woman had dinner out and quite enjoyed her experience. The food was good, the waitress was charming, the views were excellent and “the soft music was at a very suitable volume to allow diners to enjoy conversation.” This is all well and good, but there was one thing wrong with the evening that bothered her enough to ask her great-great-grandson to show her how to create a Word document so she could type up a letter and mail it to the manager of the restaurant. (Side note:  she waa shocked to learn that a stamp now costs $0.47. “Back in my day, if you wanted to post a letter, you just had to tape a penny to the envelope and hand it to the man on the Pony Express.”)

Reads the letter:

Our enjoyment of the evening was somewhat spoiled because the waiter- or the restaurant manager- who was also serving was wearing shoes which made a very disturbing and loud noise as he walked around on the wooden floor. This noise was particularly disturbing for me as I had been given the seat right by the door and so I was affected every time he came into or left the restaurant.

I wonder if you might think of asking your waiter to wear soft soled shoes in view of the wooden carpetless floor so that the atmosphere is not spoiled by the noise of his footsteps. There was no problem with the waitress who was wearing shoes with soft soles.

Call me a big bitch (everyone who is reading this: “But you are a bitch, you are a big bitch.“), but this complaint seems pretty fucking petty. Was the waiter wearing some wooden clogs that he got when he was on vacation in Holland and the noise of the wood on wood was so distracting that it canceled out the view, the food and the charming waitress? Did it really “spoil” your meal? If you’re going to make ridiculous requests, why not really go for it:

Please have the floor carpeted. If that is not possible, might I suggest that the waiter wear some bunny slippers? Surely this is something the restaurant would be happy to pay for. Or perhaps you could supply each and every customer with noise canceling earphones. Wait, that won’t work because I wouldn’t be able to hear the soft music anymore, so nevermind to that. But maybe all of your waitstaff could ride around on hover boards which would completely do away with taking steps at all. Yes, I think that’s the best idea. If not hover boards, then maybe you could install a zip line so that whenever I needed some more hot water for the tea bag I had in my purse, a waiter could fly in overhead and take care of it for me. Wait, strike that. Zip lines might obstruct the excellent view. Okay, if he absolutely must wear those deafening, eardrum-splitting clodhoppers can you at least ask him to put bubble wrap on the bottom. Please know that if he does put bubble wrap on his shoes and I hear so much as one popping sound, I will write you another letter to complain about the loud popping sounds that spoiled my night. Maybe the best thing would be for me to either turn down my hearing aid, not come back or simply to accept that if I am eating out in public I might hear something that my ears don’t like, but I really would rather you ask you, the manager, to accommodate my every need because I am the most important thing in the world and nothing else matters except for my husband, who is completely deaf. But believe me, if he still had his hearing, she would be complaining too.

While I applaud this woman’s polite letter and most excellent Word document abilities, it does seem like a rather silly thing to complain about. It’s a person walking and his shoes are touching the floor- fucking deal with it, lady.

Busy Waitress Now Has Stubs For Feet

breaking-newsA 24-year-old waitress from Bethesda, Maryland is facing a long road ahead after losing both her feet while working a lunch shift at Non Pied Cafe, a popular French bistro in the Ashburton neighborhood. Alice Honeycutt has worked at the restaurant for just under a year and up until last week had the full use of both of her feet. That all changed when a 12-top showed up in her section. The large party of ten women and two men were celebrating the promotion of a co-worker who would soon be leaving the department they worked in together at a local bank. Says Honeycutt, “They were just so needy. Every time I would get to their table, someone would ask for something else. I would go get it and as soon as I’d get back, someone else would need something.”

The main culprit, 49-year-old office manager Samantha Needlelot, was reported to have asked for five refills of iced tea, extra napkins a total of two times, an additional soup spoon, a new knife that was free of water spots, another menu citing stickiness on the first one and she also had several questions for the kitchen regarding ingredients. Honeycutt fulfilled all of these needs and also handled the other eleven guests who also asked for items as varied as extra mayo, additional bread, waters for everyone, eight hot teas, two cappuccinos, four mugs of hot water to clean the silverware and a small bowl of warm water for a woman to rinse her finger of honey.

“I don’t think I have ever walked back and forth to one table so many times,” says the footless server. After about an hour of repeatedly being run ragged, she soon noticed that her feet were beginning to wear away. “It was like my feet were pencil erasers that were just being rubbed down to nothing. My shoes eventually fell off and the next thing I knew, I just had two stumps.”

Patrick Lorsen, manager of Non Pied Cafe, did all he could to help his ailing employee, but even he could not save her feet. “That table was really awful. Ms. Needlelot was the worst, but they were all pretty bad. They each wanted their food to go, but they asked for containers one at a time. I mean, who does that?”

To make matters worse, the party required separate checks meaning twelve different trips to the computer. Thankfully, gratuity was added, but the $73.65 won’t go very far for Honeycutt. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do for work now. I don’t have feet anymore, so I guess I’ll have to get an office job. In the meantime, I’m pretty broke.”

To make ends meet, she has already sold all of her shoes on Ebay. She hopes the money she makes from those sales will tide her over until she get her resume updated and finds another job. However, she still maintains a positive attitude.

“Yes, I’m bummed that Table 15 ran me so hard that I no longer have feet, but I hope they left the restaurant happy. I just want them to know that I did everything I could to give them the best service. I do miss my feet though. I had such cute toes.”

A Go Fund Me account has been set up for Honeycutt in the hopes she can have reconstructive surgery for her feet. Click here for more information.