Thoughts and Prayers for Rhonda

There are any number of reasons that one might find themselves dining at an Olive Garden. Perhaps there is an anniversary celebration that warrants a Tour of Italy or maybe it’s prom season and someone wants to take their date to the classiest place in town or it could be that you got a flat tire and your cell phone is dead and you had to choose between Olive Garden and a gas station to use the pay phone. Whatever the case may be, most people go to Olive Garden to be wowed with supreme customer service and to enjoy food made from scratch just like Mama Zeppoli used to make in the old country. In the case of Rhonda, she was there to raise a glass of house red in honor of her daughter’s birthday. However, things took a turn for the worse and it’s all the fault of the server, Tiffany.

Rhonda didn’t go into many details when she posted on the Olive Garden Facebook page. All we know is that the dinner was awful and so was Tiffany. After spending $50 on food and drinks, Rhonda left with a pit in her stomach and unlike most people who leave Olive Garden with a pit in their stomach, the pit did not come from the food. The cause was the extreme disappointment she felt. I sympathize with Rhonda and the fact that the birthday dinner was awful. (She uses that word three times in her complaint. Damn, Rhonda, get a thesaurus; appalling, deplorable, atrocious, horrendous, unpleasant, ghastly, dire and depressing are all words you can use to describe a visit to Olive Garden. Mix it up, girl.) Rhonda spoke to some of the other employees and learned that Tiffany was having a bad night because her boyfriend had just broken up with her.

It all makes sense now: Tiffany was being a human being and letting her emotions affect her. How dare she! Doesn’t she know that servers are one step above robots and that she should never let her personal life affect how she performs her job? Tiffany, get your shit together, put on some fucking lipstick and go get Rhonda her goddamn Five Cheese Ziti al Forno! Nevermind that the love of your life, your soulmate, your one true connection, is no longer a part of your life and he broke up with you ten minutes before you put your apron on. Rhonda’s daughter is trying to celebrate a birthday and she needs some Black Tie Mousse Cake and she needs it now! And don’t forget to put a candle in it and get everyone to sing to her. And the only tears I want to see leaking out of your eyes, Tiffany, are tears of joy, because there is nothing as fucking joyful as watching three generations of women stuff their faces with cheese and carbs at the Olive Garden. Yes, your boyfriend broke up with you, but when you are at work, you need to push those feelings down deep. How deep? Well, imagine an aggressive top taking out all of his frustration on a hungry, hungry power bottom and then go twice as deep as that guy. Those feelings need to be compartmentalized and buried so deep within you that it would take a skilled surgeon several hours to extract them. Got it, Tiffany? Good.

As for you, Rhonda, I would like to apologize on Tiffany’s behalf. She obviously hasn’t learned yet that we servers are here to do your bidding and if we are having a bad day, customers don’t need to know that. I’m sure that when you are at work and struggling with emotions from your personal life, you never let it affect your work performance. And I’m also sure that if it did, you would be perfectly fine with someone complaining about your level of performance. After all, we are just waiters and waitresses and we should never let a silly little thing like emotions slip past that fake ass smile we plaster on our faces. Happy birthday to your daughter. Maybe next year you should celebrate at home where you can control every aspect of your surroundings and not let a little thing like the humanity of another human being affect her special fucking day.

p.s. Tiffany, I hope everything works out for you. You deserve more.


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