Here’s a pretty good example:

Tonight we celebrated two birthdays at work. I was elected to purchase a cake and opted to get a cake make of cupcakes, with the gayest frosting colors I could find. I had the bakery attendant put “Happy Anniversary Gary & Bob.”

Yada, yada, yada, at the end of the night there were a few remaining cupcakes leftover so before throwing them out, the other closer and I jokingly threatened to throw them on each other. I tried to convince him to simply allow me to smash him in the face with the tray of cupcakes. In exchange I offered to close out his remaining tables. I retracted my offer once I realized he had so many tables left. Just as we were debating it, the very pregnant hostess walked by. She offered to let me smash the cupcakes in her face if she was allowed to leave early, right afterwards. Once I got permission from the manager, It was on, bitches.

I gotta tell you, hitting a visibly pregnant woman in the face with a tray of cupcakes is a lot harder than it sounds. It’s not that the tray was heavy – for fuck’s sake it was 4 cupcakes on a cardboard tray. It’s just the debate that goes on in your head takes a lot to overcome. A little voice in my head was repeating, “This seems so very wrong.” Luckily, a louder voice was saying, “Hellz yeah, I’m about to hit someone in the face with some cupcakes.”

She prepared herself by taking off her glasses and pushing her face forward. I couldn’t do it with her staring at me so I made her close her eyes. Then I couldn’t do it because I felt bad smashing the entire tray into her face so I opted to go a kinder, gentler route – I just used a single cupcake. I neared her face slowly and then smooched the cupcake into her chin and mouth area. The excessive blue frosting smeared all over the bottom area of her face and dripped into her ample, pregnant bosom. All in all it was a gratifying experience. I would definitely do it again and I would highly recommend it to others.

It did take her about 10 minutes to clean the frosting off of her face – maybe next time I will be more considerate and get white cake with white frosting.

There will definitely be a next time.

The rest of the table’s visit was pretty uneventful. They messily ate and talked loudly about banging chicks. They also complained that women are a “bunch of bitches” but it’s worth putting up with their shit to “stick your dick in it.” After they finished eating, I offered them dessert. They were appalled by the thought of spending another dollar and declined. When I presented their check, they were shocked that I had the audacity to assume they wanted 1 single check, instead of 4 separate ones. I took my sweet ass time separating their check at the cashier’s and dropped them off a few minutes later.

Three paid with cash. One guy gave me $40 for a $25 check and then complained when I counted his $15 dollar change back. He said, “No, that’s wrong. I gave you $40 and my check was only $25.” I had to actually write the math down on a piece of paper in an attempt to prove that I wasn’t short changing him. Truthfully, me doing this didn’t convince him. Instead his friend intervened and got out his cell phone calculator.

Giggles handed me a $20 and told me to keep the change. His check was $19.48. Underwhelmed by his generosity, I brought back his change and politely counted it back to him.

The one guy who ordered a soda paid with a credit card and tipped me a little over 20%. He also saw that his dirtbag friend intended to tip $.52 and gave Giggles two more dollars.

Giggles took this opportunity to thank me for my service but instead of thanking me, he deeply flattered me by saying, “Hey girl, let me get your digits.” To which I replied, “Um, No. I don’t think so.” Then I made a face like I just smelled someone else’s rag pussy and walked away.

I watched as the four guys clumsily left, one man tipped his water on the way out and spilled it all over my $6 tip.

Tonight a middle-aged African American couple sat down in my section. It was two hours before close. Business had pretty much died out. The other guests in my station were reasonably demanding and tipping decently. All in all, I was in a good mood and planned to stay that way for the remainder of the night.

I gave the couple outstanding service. They thanked me and even told me that the service was great. After I handed them their check, I watched as they gathered their money. It seemed to be taking them a seriously long time. They kept shifting money from one pile to the other and it was hard to tell (until later) what exactly they were trying to do. Then the wife began searching through her purse for change.

Finally, after a few minutes, the man hands me the check with his cash and says, “Keep the change.” I see him put a $20 in his pocket as him and his wife start to gather their things.

When I count his money, not only has he neglected to tip me but he shorted me a penny. I suddenly realized that the reason it took so long to get his money together was because he was trying not to break a $20. So instead of breaking a $20 so that he could tip me, he decided to stiff me and short me a penny. Being in such a good mood, I found it quite laughable. I approached the table and politely engaged the couple in the following conversation.

Me: I’m sorry sir. I think you must have miscounted. You are a penny short.
Man: What?
Me: The bill is $30.81 and you only gave me $30.80.
Man: It’s only a penny.
Me: I know but I still need you to pay your entire bill.
Woman: Can’t you just give him a penny?
Me: No, sorry. I have to collect the entire bill.
Man: You don’t have a penny?
Me: No, I don’t. Besides, it’s not my penny to pay.
Woman to man: Just give her the $20.

The man begrudgingly hands me the $20. I say, “Thank you very much. I will be right back with your change.” I returned a minute later with his change, which included two nickels and 9 pennies. The man counted his change several times before they both headed out the door.

The moral of the story: You don’t HAVE to tip me for awesome service but you bet your sweet ass you have to pay every single penny of your check.

If you are the kind of person who goes into a restaurant and asks for a sample of something before you buy it, I fucking hate you. I don’t even care if you spent five years building schools in Africa or adopted 45 kids from Cambodia. The fact that you have to sample a $6 item before you commit to buy it makes me fucking cringe. The fact that you don’t realize exactly how fucking annoying it is also makes me cringe.

Sure…I would love to run to the bar to bring back a 1 oz shot of beer for you to try. Then I would love to stand at your table while you leisurely sip it and note it’s earthy and chocolate flavors. The only thing that could possibly make it even better is if you hate the first sample and immediately request a different one.

Take a chance. Buy the beer you want. Ask me for advice…It’s my job. Tell me what kind/type of beer you enjoy and I’ll tell you which one you will like the most. If you don’t like it, be honest. Tell me and I’ll get you another one. Is it that fucking hard?

The same rules can be applied to any food or drink.

Yes, you did read that right: I would rather you just order something and send it back as opposed to sampling it first (as long as you follow the rules below).

DO NOT:
Ignore my awesome advice and order something that I specifically said you won’t like and then think it’s acceptable to send it back. It isn’t. Eat or drink whatever the fuck you ordered and etch this memory into your tiny little brain so that maybe next time you get over yourself and listen to your server.

DO NOT:
Make up your own dish or drink and then think it’s acceptable to send it back. It isn’t. You aren’t a fucking chef/bartender for a reason. Eat whatever piece of shit concoction you insisted on being made for you and etch this memory into your tiny little brain so that maybe next time you get over yourself and order something from the menu that was prepared by the fucking chef.

If you cannot comply with these simple instructions:
Die. Die. Die.

12. Don’t complain about the prices.

Yes…our prices are fucking outrageous. That’s because my employer pays me well over minimum wage and is required to pay for my insurance. We also lease space from a major casino on the Las Vegas strip.

Look around. Do you see any wagons or vintage signs on the wall? Am I wearing flare? No? That’s a pretty good indication that you aren’t in TGIF’s and the prices aren’t nearly as affordable.

If a place looks like it might be out of your price range just glance at a menu before being seated. There’s no shame in being poor but drawing attention to your poverty by loudly complaining is shameful.

Also, no one has to justify our prices to you. It doesn’t matter why they are high. The prices are the prices and no amount of bitching done by you is going to suddenly lower them. It’s exactly like buying a car from Carmax – no haggling, bitches.

13. Read the fucking menu.

What’s that Granny? Oh, you forgot your reading glasses and you would like me to read the menu to you? Of course, I would love to. It would be a privilege and a pleasure to read the entire menu to you while my other 15 tables patiently wait for their needs to be met. No…really, it’s fine. I’m sure your 6 quarters, neatly stacked into a little pile, will be more than enough compensation for my trouble. I’m not at all bothered by the fact that 5 of my other tables completely stiffed me and then told my manager that the service was horrible. As long as YOUR needs are met and YOU are happy.

Other options:
- Use that suitcase-sized purse that you are lugging around to carry your reading glasses in. Bring 3 pairs, just in case.
- If you forgot your reading glasses, buy some at a nearby Walmart/CVS/Walgreens.
- Ask me for a recommendation and agree to whatever I pick.
- Ask the hostess what you should order on the way in. They need something to do besides standing around talking about their menstrual cycles anyways.
- Order the special.
- Have someone else at the table read the menu to you. If you are dining alone, call your great granddaughter and make her look the menu up online so she can read it to you over the phone. Young people will use any excuse to talk on the phone for hours. Besides, she owes it to you for letting her punk-rocker boyfriend steal your lawnmower.

14. There is never a need to yell like a maniac.

Regardless of what has gone wrong during your dining experience, there is absolutely NEVER a need to act like a homicidal maniac. You are in a restaurant – eating a meal. It’s not like you have a life-threatening injury that is being uncared for in the emergency room. It’s a meal – one meal out of three that you will eat in one day. It’s not as important as some people make it out to be. You are in no danger of dying of starvation if your food takes 10 minutes more than you anticipated. If the food is cold, too spicy, or burnt, you still will not die. Even if your steak or burger comes out severely undercooked, you won’t die. Every situation can be remedied in a calm and polite manner. You don’t have to be a dick and start screaming at your server because they forgot your toast.

If you do decide to yell like a maniac, you should know:
- I am no longer required to be pleasant to you.
- I will probably not give you whatever you are requesting.
- Even a 1/2 oz. side of ranch dressing will cost you $1.
- If I return your bitchy attitude, I won’t get in trouble. There is also a chance that you will be asked to immediately pay your bill and leave. If you don’t leave then security will come and escort you out (after forcing you to pay).
- I might be extremely, overly and sarcastically nice to you to get on your nerves. I might even do this while doing something mean to spite you – like not putting your food order in for 10 minutes or watering down your drink.

15. Don’t be so fucking nosy.

Why do people feel the need to ask their server personal questions? It’s really none of their business how old I am, what my marital status is, or how many children I have. I am also frequently asked if I go to college, why I moved to Vegas, what my hobbies are, what my husband does for a living, how much money I make, how many hours I work in a week, and how I stay so thin. The only questions that I am really required to answer should pertain to the food or beverages I serve. I will also accept questions about cooking temperatures, cooking times, what the status is of the food that is already cooking, and questions related to the company I work for.

In short, it’s really none of your fucking business what I do once I leave work. Besides, how would you know if your server is even answering these questions honestly? I know that I personally lie all the time – just to amuse myself. Sometimes I make up really far-fetched, in-detail stories to see if guests are paying attention. Occasionally I tell them that I was lying and then tell them the truth. Sometimes I even tell them I was lying and tell them a different lie is the truth. Since there is no way to tell if someone is telling the truth, what’s the point in even asking?

* If it’s really slow and the server seems desperate to talk to someone then they will initiate a conversation with you. If they do then you can ask them whatever you want and they are required by law to answer it truthfully.

American children are taught to be autonomous. We like to make our children think that they have choices and that they are capable of making them without the assistance of an adult. The truth is, kids are generally morons who will almost always make the dumber choice.

Just order your child’s food for them and force them to eat it. I’m sure every Tiger Mom agrees-that’s why they produce such obedient children. I have never witnessed an Asian parent allowing their kid to run around in a restaurant or hide under the table. An Asian couple has also NEVER made me stand around while their child switches back and forth between food choices or loudly cries because we don’t offer peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Other options:
- Take your child out to eat more than once a year so they know how to behave in public.
- Take your child outside and give them a time out (or spank them).
- Read the menu before you arrive and let your child pick out their food in advance.
- Leave your kid at home (or in the car).
- Don’t have children if you can’t handle the immense responsibility of making them not act like a total piece of shit in a restaurant.
- Tip 40% for taking up the table twice as long and allowing your child to throw cracker crumbs all over the floor.

7. Gulping down refillable beverages is a sin.

Gulping down beverages is a sin. It’s called gluttony.

I bring guests two refills automatically and promptly. After that, refills become a lower priority and I don’t rush to get more. Guests will get more refills eventually-with significantly less ice.

If a guest drinks their entire beverage in 30 seconds and then holds up their empty glass, while shaking the ice, I implement a 2 minute penalty. I don’t even care if I have NOTHING else to do. I will go talk to the cooks about manscaping before I refill their drink. That is how much it annoys me.

If you want your drinks refilled every 30 seconds, drink something without free refills-like beer. The fact that guests (are supposed to) tip on the total of their check is a great incentive for me to keep the beer flowing.

*All water is refilled constantly and in a timely manner…no one will die of thirst in my station.

8. Your level of service greatly depends on your level of cooperation.

You want good service? Act like it, motherfucker. Say “please” and “thank you.” Don’t be rude, demanding, impatient, snippy, cunty, assholey.

Act like your fucking mom taught you some manners. Act like you have a mom and weren’t raised by wolves.

In most cases you get the service that you ask for. If you are someone who goes out and ALWAYS has bad service, you have to consider that you might be the fucking problem. It’s statistically improbable that every single restaurant that you have ever dined in has bad service. You are the only constant variable, which means you only have yourself to blame.

Maybe you come across as a picky fucking asshole who can’t be satisified, regardless of how hard people try. If that’s the case, the incentive of a tip isn’t enough for waitstaff to bother with you. Also, the more finicky you are, the less you will probably tip (statistically true).

Bottom line: Be nice and respectful to waitstaff and they will more than likely do the same.

9. I fucking know what plain means, asshole.

To show you how fucking annoying this is, I will outline an example below.

Guest: I would like a grilled chicken sandwich, with no lettuce, tomato, pickle, or onion.
Me: So, you would like it plain?
Guest: Yes, with no lettuce, tomato, pickle, or onion. Just chicken and bread.
Me: OK. A plain grilled chicken sandwich.
Guest: Just chicken and bread.
Me: Yeah, I got that…Plain.

Why do guests have to make things more difficult than they need to be. I fucking know what plain means-doesn’t everyone??? You don’t need to rephrase it 42 different ways for me to understand that you want a piece of fucking bread with a piece of grilled chicken on it. It’s not rocket science.

Something you might want to know (or want to do if you are in the industry):
When a guest repeats themselves more than twice, I pretend to write down their order and writes expletives instead. Then I read the pretend instructions back to the guest.

Notepad:
chk sand
plain
bitch, asshole, whore, slut

Me to guest:
A plain grilled chicken sandwich
No lettuce, tomato, pickle, or onion.
Just chicken and bread.

Hey, you have to do something to pass the time.

10. Listen to me when I explain cooking temperatures.

I don’t explain cooking temperatures because I like to hear myself talk (even though I do really like to hear myself talk). I also don’t do it to insult the intelligence of guests (there are far too many other creative ways to do this). I do it because I want the guest to know exactly what their food will look like when it arrives at the table.

When I take the time to explain cooking temperatures to a guest, they should take the time to listen. If everything arrives just as I explained, I don’t expect the guest to have the nerve to send their food back to the kitchen because it isn’t prepared properly. It is, in fact, properly prepared -It just wasn’t properly ordered. So, when a medium well burger arrives with a small amount of pink, I don’t expect the guest to freak the fuck out and yell that I am “trying to poison” them. This is a fact that they were told when ordering and when they shook their empty little head in agreement, I took that to mean that they understood the words I said.

What most guests fail to understand is that hostesses seat guests at a specific table for a reason. They don’t just arbitrarily select a table, saunter over to it with guests in tow, and plop the menus on the table, before walking away. Well… maybe sometimes they do that. That’s how servers get double or triple sat – which frequently occurs. In theory, though, they are supposed to follow rotation, not seat servers when they are too busy to take new tables, reserve large tables for large parties etc.

If you are a single diner and you demand a booth that seats 4, there is a reason that your request is declined.

A hostesses job is to make sure as many people are shoved into the restaurant as possible. When a party of two demands the last table that seats four people, the party of four standing in line now has to wait 10 extra minutes for their table. This fact becomes even more annoying when most of the booths are filled with only two people and every table that seats two people remains empty. It is compounded further by guests standing by the hostess stand loudly complaining about the wait or complaining when the hostess begins taking parties of two out of the line to fill the open tables.

Probably the biggest source of frustration are when people are finally getting a table, after waiting for 20 minutes at the door, and then immediately complain and demand another table. It’s like people are oblivious to the hundred or so other people also in line for a table. I had the awesome time of experiencing this myself today.

As I was standing near the hostess stand, a party of four walked up. The hostess attempted to seat them at the only remaining booth, which happened to be near the door. One of the men became immediately outraged and insulted. He said, “No. This is not going to work. I don’t want this table. It’s too close to the door.” The hostess instructed them to stand near the door, while another table opened up. She was visibly annoyed, since this had just happened 5 minutes earlier. I surveyed the room and found the only remaining available table. It was located in the back, near the kitchen. I politely instructed them to follow me and showed them the table. I asked them if it was OK. One of the women said, “Oh, this is much better.” The asshole interjected and said, “Are you fucking kidding me? I can see the fucking kitchen from here. I’m not sitting here.” The other members of the party insisted that the table was fine but the one remaining nutcase freaked the fuck out. He began loudly complaining, saying, “Fuck this. This is fucking ridiculous. I shouldn’t have to sit at this fucking table. Let’s go. We are out of here. Fuck this place.” I tried to be polite and instruct them to wait at the front again. But the man was out of control and once he repeated the phrase, “Fuck this. I’m leaving,” I decided not to object and I walked away. The remainder of the party continued to try to calm the man down. I assume they were unable to since the entire party left a minute or so later.

Good Riddance, asshole. If you are that fucking picky about a table, I can’t imagine how fucking annoying you would be to your server.

The best part of this story comes from knowing that every restaurant in the entire casino had a half hour wait. I’m sure this cockface regretted his decision when he went to an alternate restaurant and repeated the entire process again.

P.S. This list is in no particular order.

1. You aren’t as funny as you think you are.

Hello, Mr. Funny Guy. Can’t resist the urge to crack a joke before ordering your beverage/meal/side of gravy. Guess what fuckface, I’ve heard that joke at least 1000 times. It wasn’t funny the first time and it is even less funny now. Laughing at your fucktarded jokes isn’t in my job description so if I don’t laugh, it’s because you aren’t funny. It’s not my fault that you aren’t funny. Some people just aren’t funny. Blame God, not me.

2. Oh, you are in a hurry?

So.. you waited until 45 minutes before your show begins to come into a restaurant and order your food. You tell the waitress that you are in a rush because you have show tickets. Do you know who else does this? Every motherfucker in the restaurant right now. You see that line of people, waiting for tables, even those fuckwads didn’t have the foresight to know that it takes more than 45 minutes to dine at a restaurant right before a show begins. You are on vacation. You should have plenty of time to get to the restaurant of your choosing and have a nice leisurely meal before the show begins. Instead, you wait until the last second – figuring you will just pop in for a quick bite to eat. When you tell me that you are in a rush, I will do everything I can to accommodate you – excluding placing your order before the people who arrived before you. I will not make others suffer because you are too dumb to allow yourself a reasonable time to have dinner. I will make sure you have everything you need before you get your food and even drop your check before or with your meal.

When I make suggestions for food that comes out quickly and you order a well done steak instead, I couldn’t care less if you miss the entire show. In fact, I hope you do. Plan better next time and don’t penalize me because you can’t tell time.

3. Sit the fuck down.

When the hostess seats you somewhere, sit the fuck down already. Stop looking around for a better table and stop being paranoid that the hostess is purposely seating you in a table that you will be unhappy with. The hostess is seating you there because the table fits your party size, is clean and available, and the server is able to attend to your needs in a timely manner. If you insist on moving to another table and receive bad service, you should know that you probably brought it on yourself and you deserve it. Perhaps the server whose station you moved to wasn’t ready for another table because they just got two others.

4. Hang up the phone.

So, the president calls you right before you sit down for dinner in a restaurant. Excuse yourself and take the call outside OR sit at the table and be ignored by your server until you hang up the phone. It’s rude to talk on the phone at the dinner table. It’s also rude to interrupt someone who is talking on the phone. If your call is that urgent then you should understand that you probably won’t be greeted until you hang up the phone – even if it takes 20 minutes. Don’t get all butthurt when I don’t even make eye contact before you hang up the phone.

5. I’m not on the menu.

Don’t be that guy that insists on hitting on every waitress. I’m sure some waitresses are slutty like that but most aren’t. Even unattractive waitresses get hit on frequently. Once someone politely declines your advances, stop embarrassing yourself and shut the fuck up already. Chances are if the waitress was interested in you, they would give you their number or just go to your room and give you a blowjob. I know it seems statistically improbable but I did work with a slutty waitress who went upstairs and serviced 3 men. It wasn’t because they suggested it. It was because she was a dirty slut with horribly low self-esteem and a thing for English men who don’t tip. Also, worth noting: If you don’t adequately tip your server, don’t leave your number. We will spend all night exacting our revenge by prank calling you. We’re immature like that.

Coffee Switching
In most restaurants, after 8 p.m. or so, all the coffee is decaf because no one wants to clean two different coffeepots. I’ll bring out a tray with 12 coffees on it and give some to the customers who ordered regular, others to the ones who ordered decaf. But they’re all decaf.
-Charity Ohlund

I’m sure every server has been guilty of this at some point. I’ve even seen servers run out of coffee and top it off with hot water. I usually don’t do this but I won’t hesitate to microwave coffee that isn’t piping hot (it takes 10 minutes for a new pot and I usually don’t have time to wait). I have never given someone regular coffee that requested decaf but may have topped off regular coffee with decaf once of twice.

Additional Sugar in Kid’s Meals
We put sugar in our kids’ meals so kids will like them more. Seriously. We even put extra sugar in the dough for the kids’ pizzas.
-Waitress at a well-known pizza chain

I have no idea how adding more sugar to something like french fries or a grilled cheese sandwich is even possible. I’ve seen how limited children’s menus are. I know they are mostly deep fried and void of any nutritional value already. I could see adding more fat but sugar? Seems far-fetched to me.

Vegetarian Options
If you’re a vegetarian and you ask if we use vegetable stock, I’m going to say yes, even if we don’t. You’ll never know the difference.

Most servers will be honest when you ask a direct question about vegetarian options – unless you are rude. Even if you are rude, I will still be honest when you ask me a direct question. I may, however, pretend to not pick up on the fact that you are vegetarian and allow you to order something that contains meat if you are rude to me. My awesome listening skills are reserved for people who are nice and considerate.

The Specials Aren’t That Special
At a lot of restaurants, the special is whatever they need to sell before it goes bad. Especially watch out for the soup of the day. If it contains fish or if it’s some kind of ‘gumbo,’ it’s probably the stuff they’re trying to get rid of.
-Kathy Kniss, who waited tables for ten years in Los Angeles

I agree with this fact. Our restaurant orders stuff especially for specials but a lot of places don’t do this. When things are about to expire, we have specials that are even more special.

Everyone Fondles The Lemons
Now that I’ve worked in a restaurant, I never ask for lemon in a drink. Everybody touches them. Nobody washes them. We just peel the stickers off, cut them up, and throw them in your iced tea.
-Charity Ohlund, Kansas City waitress

Yes, when staff members cut lemons, they do touch them. I doubt they are washed before or after. When the servers get them, though, we generally use tongs – bartenders almost never use tongs and they wash their hands less frequently.

Calorie Counting
If you ask me how many calories are in a particular dish, I’m not allowed to tell you even if I know. I’m supposed to say, ‘All that information is available online.’
-Waitress at a well-known pizza chain

I doubt anyone knows the calorie count of any dish. I’ve never heard of not being able to tell someone if you were some freak who happened to know.

General rules:
if it’s in a restaurant, it’s a lot.
if it’s fried, it’s more.
if you’re on a diet, stay home or eat somewhere with healthy choices and calories noted on the menu.

Credit Card Declined
I’ve never seen anybody do anything to your food, but I have seen servers mess with your credit card. If a server doesn’t like you, he might try to embarrass you in front of your business associate or date by bringing your credit card back and saying, ‘Do you have another card? This one didn’t go through.’?-Charity Ohlund

I have seen some people & heard some stories of people doing stuff to your food (not at my current employers since we have food runners). In every case, it was because the customer was a complete jerkwad. I’m not saying it was deserved, I’m just saying that you should consider being nice to your server. I guess I could see someone attempting to embarrass you by pretending your credit card is declined but I have never witnessed it. It seems like a dumb idea since it prevents you from getting an annoying person out of your station right away.

The Skinny on Skim Milk
Skim milk is almost never skim milk. Very few restaurants outside Starbucks carry whole milk, 2 percent milk, skim milk, and half-and-half; it’s just not practical.
-Chris

Why wouldn’t the server just tell you what type of milk is available (i.e. we only have 2% milk)?

Salad Dressing Isn’t Made In-house
Some places buy salad dressings in one-gallon jars, then add a few ingredients, like a blue cheese crumble or fresh herbs, and call it homemade on the menu.
-Former waiter Jake Blanton, who spent ten years in restaurants in Virginia, North Carolina, and California

First of all, Hidden Valley Ranch is the shit. How can you top that? Yes, we do use it but we never lie about it and claim that we make it ourselves. Places that do probably use the powder that you just add milk and mayo to.

Hot Tea
The single greatest way to get your waiter to hate you? Ask for hot tea. For some reason, an industry that’s managed to streamline everything else hasn’t been able to streamline that. You’ve got to get a pot, boil the water, get the lemons, get the honey, bring a cup and spoon. It’s a lot of work for little reward.
-Christopher Fehlinger, maître d’ at a popular New York City restaurant

I love hot tea, with breakfast or when I have a cold. I only order it at places that are known for breakfast though- like Ihop or Denny’s. I hate making it and so does every other server on the planet.

Pooling Tips
In many restaurants, the tips are pooled, so if you have a bad experience with the server, you’re stiffing the bartender who made your drinks, the water boy who poured your water, sometimes the hostess, the food runners, and maybe the other waiters.
-Christopher Fehlinger

This really doesn’t matter. You tip the waiter based on your experience and your experience is based primarily on the interaction you have with them. Regardless of how tips are distributed your tip should be the same.

One thing that you should really know is that the IRS assumes the server makes a certain amount in tips per hour (sometimes a percentage of their sales). If you stiff your server then they are being taxed on money that they didn’t even make. Plus, they usually have to give money to support staff (based on their sales) that they didn’t even make by waiting on you.

Eggs From a Powder
Even at the best breakfast buffet in the world, 99 times out of 100, the big pan of scrambled eggs is made from a powder.
-Jake Blanton

I’ve never worked at a buffet and those eggs always gross me out – this explains why.

Blaming the Server
People think that just because your food took a long time, it’s the server’s fault. Nine times out of ten, it’s the kitchen. Or it’s the fact that you ordered a well-done burger.
-Judi Santana

It is almost always the kitchen’s fault or your own for ordering something extra, extra well done or with ridiculously complex special instructions.

Not Your Wife
When you’re with the woman who’s not your wife, you’re a lot nicer to us, probably because you know that we know it’s not your wife.
-Caroline Radaj, waitress at a members-only club outside Milwaukee

Not sure this is even true.

Become A Regular
It’s much easier to be recognized as a regular on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Wednesdays. Once you’re recognized as a regular, good things start to happen. You’ll find your wineglass gets filled without being put on your bill, or the chef might bring you a sample.
-Christopher Fehlinger

Being a regular doesn’t mean that you get free shit. It’s still a business. I can still get fired for giving away stuff instead of selling it. You will get better service if you are a regular, who tips well. If you are a regular who is a constant pain in the ass, I will go to the hostess stand and seat you in someone else’s station. If you ask for a table in my station, I will lie and say I’m about to take a break or leave for the day. Then I will walk by you every five minutes until you figure out that I lied.

Holiday Diners
Avoid Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day like the black plague. It’s crazy busy, so they’re not going to be able to pay as much attention to quality. Plus, they bring out a special menu where everything is overpriced.
-Steve Dublanica

True. Take your special someone out on a day that isn’t so cliche. The same goes for Friday and Saturday nights.

Order For Your Child
If the restaurant is busy and your child is shy, please order for him. Kids can sit there forever trying to decide, or they whisper and you can’t hear them. Meanwhile, the people at the next table are yelling at you to come over.
-Derek Dudley, a waiter at a casual pizza restaurant in Phoenix

Discuss dining options with your kid before you get to the restaurant. Order for him/her if they are hard to understand or too shy to speak up. Also, don’t let them run around or make a mess.

Tipping
The best tippers tend to be middle-class or people who have worked for everything they have, not the really wealthy or the kid who inherited the trust fund. Which is not to say that we mind if you use coupons. But when you do, tip on the amount the bill would have been without them.
-Judi Santana

All true. Tip on the pre-discounted amount. Also, when you pay part of the check in cash and the remainder on the card, tip on the ENTIRE total.

For instance: $100 check
$50 in cash
$50 on card.
Person with card automatically puts 20% on the credit card amount, not factoring in the fact that the entire bill was $100. This means the tip is $10 instead of $20.

Happens all.the.time.

Tipping – First Dates
First dates, especially blind Internet dates, are great for tips. You know he’ll probably order a bottle of wine and leave a 20 to 25 percent tip because he’s showing off.
-Jeremy Burton, waiter at a grill in southwest Michigan

You know who tips better? Single men with attractive waitresses.

Ordering Fish
Don’t order fish on Sunday or Monday. The fish deliveries are usually twice a week, so Tuesday through Friday are great days. Or ask the restaurant when they get theirs.
-Steve Dublanica

I don’t see the big deal. You would buy fish at the market and cook it at your house two days later, right?

If you work in the industry, I would love to hear your feedback regarding these secrets. Have you done any of this stuff? Do you agree/disagree with any of these?

All in all, this list was pretty fucking boring.  My next post will be “20 Secrets That Other Waiters Won’t Tell You.”

Tonight it was a party of three who managed this feat. The two females were the real culprits but the man was present and is therefore guilty by association.  I’m sure one day when these two old, battered-looking whores get what’s coming to them, he will undoubtedly be killed by a stray bullet.

The first interaction with this table involved me offering them water.  They declined and insisted that they needed alcohol right away.  No one knew what they wanted so I offered some suggestions – each one was shot down.  I attempted to excuse myself so they could peruse the menu.  They refused to let me go even though two neighboring tables were attempting to get my attention.  I stood there, staring into space, dreaming of a land where people are decisive and politics are free of corruption.  Eventually (5 minutes or so later) the table had used a complex algorithm to finally determine that everyone should just drink water.  Awesome.

I offered the table some time to decide on food but before departing I had to answer several questions about the menu.  Each answer was met with a cuntish phrase and each cuntish phrase made me care less and less about being nice to these people.

Here are a few examples:

Cunt #1: Does your Caesar salad have anchovies on it?
Me: No. It’s just….
Cunt #2 (interrupting):  What???? What kind of place is this? Everyone knows that a real Caesar salad is supposed to have anchovies on top.

I resisted the urge to spill my vast Caesar salad knowledge and tell the women that the original Caesar salad recipe did NOT have anchovies.  Anchovies being added is a variation commonly practiced and adding them makes it LESS authentic, not more.

Man: I’m thinking of having a burger… what do you think about…
Cunt #1 (interrupting): Don’t have a burger.  They are really small here and they are salty.
Cunt #2: I bet you hear that all the time… don’t you?  That your food is all way too salty?
Me: Not really. No.
Cunt #1: You must because last time I was here, I heard every table near us talking about how salty the food was.
Me: hmmmm…. I don’t know what to tell you.  No one ever tells me the food is too salty.
Cunt #1 (to the man): Just get a burger with no salt.
Me: Everything is pre-seasoned and they don’t add more seasoning when they cook it.
Cunt #2: You would need to order two burgers.  They are really small.
Me: They are 8 ounces.
Cunt #1: Wow…. that is tiny.

8 ounces is half of a pound. The USDA daily recommended intake of meat is 5 to 7 ounces for the entire day.

No one ever complains the food is salty.

Cunt #1: What kind of sauce comes on this grilled chicken sandwich.
Me: None but I can bring you whatever sauce you want.
Cunt #1: What kind of sauces do you have?
Me: BBQ, mayo, ranch, buffalo, honey mustard, honey dijon, spicy mayo…
Cunt #1: Do you have plum sauce?
Me: No, sorry.
Cunt #1: Well.. looks like we chose the wrong place to eat this evening.

Yes, perhaps you should have picked a Chinese place – they would definitely have plum sauce even if they don’t have a grilled chicken sandwich to put it on.

Cunt #2: What’s inside your jalapeno poppers?
Me: It’s a mixture of cream and cheddar cheese…
Cunt #1 (interrupting): It’s both cheeses?
Me: Yes.  It’s mostly cream cheese but there is also some cheddar cheese.
Cunt #2: This place is ridiculous.
Cunt #1 (looks directly at me): When you get older and learn how to cook you will realize how shitty the food here is.

I told them that I would give them more time to look over the menu and politely excused myself.  They attempted to stop me but I pretended to not hear their pleas for me to stay. I waited until they flagged me down to return to the table, which only took a few minutes.

The two women shared a grilled chicken sandwich.The sandwich was cut in half, on a wheat bun, with lettuce and tomato on the sandwich, and onion, avocado, and mushrooms on the side.  They also each needed a side of honey mustard and BBQ sauce.  The table shared some onion rings, with sides of BBQ sauce, ranch, and blue cheese dressing.  The man ordered a burger and fries, with no special instructions.

In the end, they admitted that the food was very good and that they were surprised since we don’t have many of the “frills” necessary for a restaurant to produce even “edible” food (their words, not mine).

Cunt #1 paid the bill.  Surprisingly, she tipped me 20%.

The name on her credit card explained why she acted like a complete cuntbag:

Lady William of Shallot.

It also explains why she thinks she’s royalty.

Within the first hour of my shift I was so bored that I volunteered to trim a busboy’s facial hair.  This act was inspired by the fact that his mustache had gotten so long he was almost eating it.  I’m not a big fan of facial hair – especially excessive beard hair.  In fact, when I think about men with ZZ Top beards it kind of makes me sick to my stomach.  At first I imagine the awesome things you could hide within their beard hair – like staplers or horseshoes.  Inevitably I wind up thinking about the things that wind up there inadvertently-  like soup broth, Cheetos dust, or fingernail clippings.  To save the busboy from having a destiny filled with such inadvertent items, I took him to the back and carefully clipped the excess hair from around his lip and chin.  I used a pair of scissors from the cashier’s drawer that were probably infected with the plague – nothing but the best.   A cashier supervised the ordeal and advised me when everything appeared even and presentable.

Having done my good deed of the day, I tried to fill the boredom with idle chitchat. When this method failed, I decided to organize a contest.  I offered every female staff member the opportunity to join the contest.  It was a runway walk contest – America’s Next Top Model style.  We opted to walk from the hostess stand, to the other end of the restaurant, where we would do a pose and a turn. I was able to convince 5 out of 7 girls to participate – luring them in using a free milkshake as a prize.  A manager and the busboy with the freshly trimmed facial hair judged the competition.  After our awesome performances they stood at the bar and discussed (in great detail) who should win the coveted first prize/milkshake.  Then the judges came to the hostess stand to deliver the news.  First they told everyone what they did wrong.  I was told, “You weren’t serious enough.  You smiled too much.  You’re supposed to keep a straight face, models don’t smile.”  Of course, this is total BS.  Models are allowed to smile.  If anything I should be faulted for being well under 5’10″. In the end a hostess won.

When she went on break, she rubbed it in a little by telling me how delicious her free milkshake was.  The only thing I could say was, “You’re lucky it wasn’t a beauty contest.”