Yearly Archives: 2017

The Last A**hole Child of the Year

It’s the last day of 2017 and we have discovered our final asshole child of the year: Annabelle. It appears that Annabelle likes two things. She likes hockey and she likes to use crayons to destroy perfectly good linens at restaurants. Annabelle, while I appreciate your artistic endeavors and I can see that you have a bright future ahead of you as either a hockey goalie or an amateur sign painter, who the hell told you it was okay to do this? I know it wasn’t the server, because that server specifically told me that when she asked you to stop doing it, your mother jumped in exclaiming that you’re “just a child.” Oh, wait. I just answered my own question. Your mother allowed this. Annabelle, put your mom on the phone, I wanna talk to her.

Hello, Annabelle’s Mom? Bitchy Waiter here. That is some straight up bad parenting right there. You are teaching your daughter that the belongings of other people don’t matter and that she can do whatever she wants. What a great way to raise a selfish, unaware human being that will thing the world revolves around her. Are you trying to make sure your daughter is just like you when she grows up because that’s what it seems like. I’m sure every parent dreams of having a little Mini Me, but maybe you should try to weed out some bad behaviors and create a better person that yourself. I once heard that all any parent wants is for their child to be happier and more successful than they were, but you really need to factor in some of the character flaws that you might want to do away with. If you teach Annabelle that it’s okay to draw all over a table cloth in a restaurant, what do you think Annabelle is going to teach her daughter? Yeah, the same thing. So in twenty-five years, I’ll have to write this blog post all over again when your granddaughter does this and a disgruntled server sends me a picture of it. (Although by the year 2052, they will probably send me something much more complex than an image. It might be a hologram or a visual memory that is shared directly to my brain using the Apple iSharing dock that we all have installed in our brains by then.) Annabelle’s Mom, the next time you see your daughter destroying property, your response should be something like this:

Annabelle, honey, that’s not nice. That tablecloth doesn’t belong to you. Give me those crayons right now and go find the waitress so you can apologize for your abhorrent behavior. And also apologize to them on my behalf, because I failed as a parent. And I want to apologize to you for letting this happen. I should have been paying attention to all of those art projects you have bringing home all those years and told you right then and there to give up art because you suck at it. Your spacing is all wrong and that random blue mark is throwing off the color palette. We need to find you a new hobby that your more suited for, like reading or sitting all quiet in a dark corner somewhere. And while I’m being so honest with you, sweetie, the only thing you’re worse at than drawing is hockey. Watching you play today was painful.

Good bye, 2017.

The Grinch Who Wanted To Eat At Applebee’s on Christmas

I have a storied past with Applebee’s and they are very often the brunt of jokes. However, when it comes to this blog, nine times out of ten I am going to defend the restaurant and the servers so today I am on Team Applebee’s

On a bright and sunny Christmas Day in Sikeston, Mo, Scott B. woke up and wanted nothing more than to celebrate the birth of Jess Christ his Savior by taking his family to Applebee’s and dining on Riblet Platter with fries and coleslaw. Unfortunately, there were others in Sikeston who woke up feeling the exact same way. So after Scott opened up his Christmas presents of new tire flaps and the latest model of the Fleshlight, he headed out to Applebee’s only to find it jam-packed with like-minded hungry customers. The hostess told him they were not seating at that moment because the kitchen was backed up, but to Scott’s dismay, he noticed that the restaurant was only half full.

What is one to do? Scott had two options: to either wait patiently and understand that the restaurant was possibly understaffed due to it being Christmas fucking day OR log on to Facebook and start complaining on the Applebee’s page. Guess which one Scott chose.

Oh, Scott. Dear, sweet, clueless, entitled, arrogant, can’t wait to use your new Fleshlight, Scott. Yes, the restaurant was busy and you had to wait. According to your post, so did 15 other people. And the reason you saw tables empty was because the restaurant realized that they could not accept more customers at that very moment and thought it best to be upfront and honest with you about the extended wait time than to seat you and give the false illusion that service was going to come quickly. We don’t know why they were short staffed, but they clearly were. Perhaps it was difficult to find enough servers to since, I dunno, it was fucking Christmas Day. Or maybe they did have it adequate staffed but a few people decide to call in sick since, I dunno, it was fucking Christmas Day.

“I’m sorry it’s a holiday, but nothing is open,” you say in your Facebook rant. Yes, nothing else is open because it’s fucking Christmas Day and some places make the humane decision to close that day so employees can spend that day with their families and the people they care about rather than dealing with whiney, sniveling crybabies like you.

“It’s not worth it,” you say. Funny, that is exactly what every single person who was working at Applebee’s that day said too.

It seems that you waited about an hour before deciding it wasn’t worth it which tells me that for 59 minutes, you did in fact think it was going to be worth it as the mantra “riblets and Fleshlight, riblets and Fleshlight…” ran through your head the whole time. But you finally left, probably vowing to never go back to the Applebee’s in Sikeston, MO again. It’s alright if you never go back. In fact if everyone who had to wait for service at Applebee’s on that day vowed to never go back on Christmas, maybe next year the restaurant could stay closed and let their employees stay home one day a year.

“Applebees in Sikeston, MO sucks!!!!!” you say. Well, I say the same thing about you.

Merry Christmas. Enjoy your Fleshlight.

p.s. Someone sent me a $50 gift card to Applebee’s so expect another Live Facebook video from there soon.

The Worst To-Go Order of 2017

With 2017 about to inhale its last breath and sputter into a distant memory, it’s difficult to think of the one thing that sucked the most out of this year. You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting at least one shit show from 2017. Mary Tyler Moore and David Cassidy both died this year. It also finally became public knowledge that pretty much every woman in the country has been sexually harassed by some asshole with a penis. Donald Trump’s Twitter account is a shit show all its own. I mean, how can just one thing be the most awful event of a whole year? And then someone sent me this picture:

Good God, 2017, how much more can we endure? This call-in order makes my skin crawl. I can just imagine these 15 people who probably all work in an office together, sharing cubicles and a copy machine. Nine of them are like, “Cool, I’ll take a salad with Ranch.” And the other seven are all, “Well, I want one but…”

How can 47% of the people who have decided to order lunch be this picky? C’mon! Think of the poor “to-go person” who has to put this order together and spend the next thirty minutes picking out croutons, cheddar shreds and bacon bits? That person saw this order and seriously considered walking out right then because we all know that one of those salads is going to be wrong.

“Carol, I think you have my gluten free salad because I have a crouton in mine.”

“No, Helen Tom, I think I have Roberta’s salad because mine doesn’t have any onions and I didn’t ask them to leave the onions out of mine. Roberta do you have the right salad?”

“I’m not sure, Carol, because this salad doesn’t have any onions in it either, but it does have croutons. I can’t have croutons, I’ll be in the bathroom the rest of the day. Which salad do you have, Sheila Pat?”

“I don’t know. I wanted a vegetarian salad, but this one has bacon in it!”

And so on and so on…

Meanwhile nine men human beings of varying sexual identities are eating their salads and wondering how their co-workers manage to get through life each day while one of those men people is trying to decide how to tell the two women non-gender specific beings who call themselves “vegan” and “gluten and dairy free” that Ranch dressing doesn’t fall under either of those fucking categories.

Go home 2017, you’re drunk.

This post has been edited to make it more inclusive and not so sexist as so many people have told me it was. -BW

9 Annoying Things About the Little Girl at Booth 9

It’s not often that I write about my actual customers anymore since so many of them know about this blog, there is the very real possibility that someone I write about may actually read about themselves. However, sometimes I throw caution to the wind in the same way I throw decaf into the regular pot and I just say, “Fuck it.” This couple and their little girl have compelled me to do so. It’s the little girl’s fault for being so damn annoying.

  1. She needed a high chair but then refused to sit in it. So not only did the highchair end up at the end of a booth making it near impossible for me to serve the table, they would not let me move it “just in case” the devil demon wanted to sit in it. She never did and instead the highchair was used to store all of her crap; coat, shoes, toys, a bottle and fucking partridge in a pear tree.
  2. She wouldn’t sit down. She insisted on standing up in the booth and when she wanted to eat something off of her mother’s plate, she would stretch out her whole body across the table and shove some pasta in her mouth, like she’s a barn house animal.
  3. When walking past them, I noticed there were three spoons on the table that I did not put there. “Odd,” I thought since I was the only server on the floor and there was no busser or runner. And then I spotted her, standing up in her seat (see above) and leaning over the back of the booth, reaching into the sidestand to grab silverware. Yes, her grimy, greasy, little girl hands were digging though silverware, so I placed a napkin over it to deter her thieving ways. I then watched here toss the napkin off and try again which is when I moved the spoons out of her reach. Rude little girl.
  4. She had too many toys with her, one of them being a doll that she kept upside down in a big plastic bag with a zipper that was hanging off her stroller. The doll looked like a suffocated baby in shrink wrap and it will give me nightmares.
  5. Her voice and the way she cried. The little girl was maybe two years old so she could talk just enough to have already developed vocal nodes. Like nails on a chalkboard, her voice clawed at my ears. And when she begin to cry, it was the first time I have ever heard sobbing mixed with vocal fry.
  6. She gave me the stink eye every time I walked past her. It was almost like she knew I was taking notes about her on a 3×5 index card that was in my apron. If looks could kill, her eyes were daggers stabbing me in the heart with a steak knife that, thankfully, I had removed from her reach just moments before. It’s almost as if she could sense my dislike for her in the same way a dog smells fear.
  7. Her haircut was a sin. She was definitely going for an Alfalfa from The Little Rascals look, with it parted in the middle when she clearly needed bangs, Her forehead looked like a putting green and she reminded me of Bette Davis when she played Queen Elizabeth. This little girl’s hairline was receding faster than the polar ice caps.
  8. When she left, the floor was a disaster. It was covered in pasta, crumbs, napkins and food I didn’t even serve them. (Full disclosure: some of that may have been there before she arrived.)
  9. Her bill was $60.98 and she left me $10. While that may be 16.33%, I needed 20% to make up for the stink eye and visual assault I experienced looking at her bad haircut.

Good bye, little girl. I am not a fan.

Bill O’Reilly Has Some Restaurant Advice For Everyone

Noted asshole and unemployed-newscaster-because-he-got-fired-from-FOX-for-sexual-assault-accusations, Bill O’Reilly tweets a lot these days. I suppose he has a bit more time on his hands than he used to since he was unceremoniously dumped from FOX News back in April after several women accused him of being a grabby asshole. He and his employers settled with the woman and paid them out about $13 million. These days, Bill O’Reilly tweets and runs his own website which is the closest thing he has to network exposure. One of the things he likes to do each day, other than ogle women inappropriately and touch himself while reminiscing about his dressing room at FOX, is to tweet out a tip of the day. Because, you know, everyone in the world wants daily advice from a saggy ball sack like Bill O’Reilly. He offers gems such as:

Here’s the Tip of the Day: many clothing companies have stealthily cut back on material, so order your stuff one size larger than you are. I am 6’4”, 210 pounds and an XL used to do it. Not anymore. Now XXL.

And:

Here’s the Tip of the Day: carve out some alone time this Christmas and Hanukkah season. Think about someone you can directly help. Then do it.

He’s a regular Dear fucking Abby, that guy. Last week, his Tip of the Day was the following:

 

So now he’s giving restaurant advice? Bitch, please. Yes, all customers deserve good service. (I refuse to use the word “entitled” because that word leaves a bad taste in my mouth which is exactly what every woman who has ever given Bill O’Reilly a blow job has said). I have to wonder what happened to make Bill O’Reilly tweet such advice. Did a server treat him with less respect than he felt he was deserved? Had he ordered a bunch of food and while waiting for it, the server mistreated him and he was so shook up that had to leave? I doubt that Bill O’Reilly would ever leave a place because he felt he was being mistreated. He seems more like the type to have someone fired and then stay in the restaurant until he sees the server escorted out. But what if he did decide to leave? Is he going to pay for the drinks that he consumed while he was waiting for the food? Or what if the disrespect happened between the first course and the second, will he still pay for the soup? So many questions.

But the main thing I wonder is why on earth would anyone ever treat Bill O’Reilly with anything but the utmost respect? Probably because for years he has shown us all what a dick he is. Anyone who is fired for sexual misconduct is pretty much an asshole, at least to women, but if we look back even further when he was on Inside Edition it’s clear he was an asshole to men too:

 

Fuck you, Bill O’Reilly. Here’s a Tip of the Day for you: when visiting a restaurant or store always be polite to the staff because they are entitled to respect. If that does not happen, they can quietly tell the manager what a dick you are and then ask you to leave; even if the food has been ordered.

 

You All Made This IHOP Waitress Very Very Happy!

Last week, I posted an article about a Go Fund Me account that was created for an IHOP waitress named Rhonda. Earlier this year, Rhonda found herself in the news when a butter knife came between her and some customers that she was feeling threatened by. Initially, the story leaned to the side of the customers but as time went on, it became pretty clear that Rhonda was simply doing what she felt necessary in an unfortunate situation with some skanky, low-level diners. A friend of the blog, Stefanie, happened to visit Rhonda’s IHOP and realized what a wonderful caring person she is. The spirit of Christmas crawled up inside of Stefanie and the Go Fund Me account became a reality. Once I shared it on this blog and the Facebook page, I guess the Christmas spirit traveled like a batch of herpes because so many of you responded to it as well. Over the weekend Stefanie made the drop off to Rhonda and I wanted to give you an update.

Because of YOU, Rhonda received a check for $802.05. (A total of $855 was raised, but fees…) Stefanie wanted you all to know that Rhonda was incredibly grateful. As much as Stefanie wanted to take a photo of the whole scene, she didn’t feel it was right to do so. Plus, both her and Rhonda were big ol’ crybabies and nobody wants their picture on the Internet with their face looking all swelled up. However, I have attached photos of the check and the card and also a list of everyone who donated to this great cause. I also used my incredibly bad Photoshop skills to put a Santa hat on Rhonda’s photo above.

You guys really came through and I thank you. It’s good to know that this silly little blog I started nine years ago does have the ability to do some good every now and then. You have all proven that we restaurant folks take care of each other and that as much as we may bitch and complain, we are all a bunch of softies.

Merry Christmas to Rhonda and to all of you who donated. And thank you for giving me a chance to make this world a teeny tiny bit nicer, if even for just a moment.

Look how much we raised!

And the card attached would say, “Thank you for being a friend.”

Stefanie is about to give Rhonda the check!

Thank you to all of you!