I hate to say it guys, but I’m one of the ones saying Merry Christmas around this time of year. I might not hold the same beliefs as Christians, but I do like to be cheerful around this time of year, and my guests seem to usually appreciate it. I have a tendency to write Merry Christmas on my guest checks, or the bottom of one of their credit card slips, unless the name on the slip is very obviously Jewish, in which I’ll write Happy Holidays.

I don’t see what the big deal is about Merry Christmas. Most of us grew up hearing it, it’s what this time of year is known for across America. If you don’t like it, well then don’t listen, but it’s going to be said. All this talk about changing Christmas tress to Holiday trees has me nauseated. I’m not going to be the one saying “Happy Holidays” to every single guest, and I won’t be answering phones saying “Happy Holidays” either.

I know people have different beliefs, but that doesn’t mean that we should hinder a lifelong tradition in favor of political correctness. As you all know, I’m the last person alive that cares for political correctness, so trying to get me to change is a fruitless effort.

Just a small rant, but one that’s been getting on my nerves for a bit, especially after seeing on the news about people changing a Christmas tree to a Holiday tree. Why don’t we just change the date too?

On a lighter note, my last post with the fantasy twist seems to be having good results, leading me to think I may do more.  I know I talked about it at the end of the last post, but I wasn’t sure until I got some feedback from it.  I had fun with it, and I think you all did too.  Here’s to next time =).

Ribeye

Kids are evil.  Kids are evil little monkeys bred to become big evil monkeys bent on destroying the way of life that we’ve become so accustomed to.  They’re defended by evil parents, who were raised evil by their evil parents.  Maybe evil is a harsh word.  Stupid is a better one, at least for the parents.

Kids today are allowed to do anything they want without fear of retribution from their parents due to the constant allegations of child abuse.  We no longer flog them when needed, we let them do whatever without so much as a “No little Billy, that’s wrong.”  Little Billy could kill his neighbors cat, roast it over a spit in Boy Scouts, and feed it to his friends, and nobody would do anything about it for fear of being accused of child abuse.

When they go out to eat, kids run the show.  “I want this, Mommy.”  pointing to the most expensive steak on the menu.  “That’s too much money, honey, how about this nice cheeseburger.”

“I SAID I WANTED THAT STEAK!” it’s almost like the child transforms into a demon, face red and steam coming from his ears.  Mother gives in.

Little Billy then gets up and goes skating around on his Heely’s.  Mommy just looks at him with a smile on her face, as she lifts her third Cosmopolitan, saying to her girlfriends who are also drinking their Cosmopolitans, “Isn’t my Billy just so cute?”

Enter the Ribeye, carrying a tray of 5, very hot, steaming plates of food.   The Ribeye tries very hard to balance the tray on his shoulder, while still trying to see where he is going.  The Ribeye happens to be quite tall, therefore cannot see little imps wearing skate shoes sent from Hades.  BillyImp skates in front of the Ribeye, whilst laughing.  The Ribeye stumbles, and tray of 5 very hot and steaming plates of food nearly falls to the ground.  Ribeye saves the tray, and manages to recover balance.  He glares at the child, and yells out in rage, “This is NOT a skating rink.  You can’t use those in here.”

Little BillyImp, demon that he is, yells back, “You’re not my momma, you can’t tell me what to do.”  The Ribeye then wishes that the law were on his side, and punting a child across a restaurant was not illegal.  Ribeye continues walking toward table, and drops off food.  Ribeye then goes to see Spineless Mother, former incubator and current slave of Little BillyImp.  “Ma’am,” Ribeye begins, “Your son cannot skate around this restaurant, it’s a hazard to the employees and other guests.”

“How dare you tell me what my child can and cannot do?  How can you presume to tell me how my child is raised.”  Spineless Mother is no longer spineless when it comes to defense of her Master. Newly Spined Mother’s blonde hair becomes rising flame, eyes become black as charcoal, long pink fingernails become 2 foot long bloody talons.  The demon within emerges.

“Ma’am, I’m just telling you the rules of the restaurant.  You have to keep your child under control.  If something happens to him, we cannot be held responsible, as you are the one who is supposed to be responsible for your child in the first place.”

Flames issue from the mouth of the newly emerged She-Demon.  “Send me your manager.”

Ice chips fly from the mouth of the Ribeye as he replies, “At your service, Ma’am.”  Ribeye leaves, wishing he had shoes with wheels just like little BillyImp.  Manager J the Impartial.  Ribeye then stands to the side, watching with intensity.  She-Demon and Manager J the Impartial converse, and Ribeye notices the Cosmopolitan resting in the claws of She-Demon begin to bubble.  She-Demon is not pleased with the results of the confrontation.

Ribeye continues working, warm in the fact that She-Demon and Little BillyImp have been chastised.  Ribeye returns to the kitchen to retrieve She-Demon’s dinner.  On the way out of the kitchen, Little BillyImp again skates in front of Ribeye.  This time, Ribeye trips on Little BillyImp.  Tray of hot food falls from Ribeye’s shoulder, despite all efforts to contain it.  It tumbles down Ribeye’s body, rolling like an avalanche of lava, scalding his lightly covered torso.  Rage boils in the Ribeye’s cold blood.  He then notices that Little BillyImp has been smashed in the head by the falling debris of cheap china plates, and is now crying in anguish.

“MOMMY!!!”  little BillyImp screams.  “This mean man hurt me!”  Ribeye chances a look up, whilst trying to help the little imp from his position on the ground.  She-Demon is glowing with her own rage, the flames on her head are now reaching the deepest red.  “How dare you…HOW DARE YOU!!!  You’ve hurt my baby!”  Her talons swing toward the Ribeye, grazing his arm lightly, but enough to cause pain.  Ribeye is further enraged, but keeps to himself for fear of retribution.   “Your baby hurt himself, Ma’am, by skating into my legs while I carried a tray.  I wasn’t able to move, and it’s your fault for not controlling him better.”  Temper lost, Ribeye leaves She-Demon and Crotch Spawn whining on the floor, and goes to hunt Manager J the Impartial.

Manager J the Impartial fills out incident report, and She-Demon signs, blood from her grotesque talons searing the parchment as she moves the quill.  Little BillyImp has a bump on his head, and Ribeye gets no compensation for his service of the table.  She-Demon then calls corporate BigWig, and tells that Ribeye is an evil man who hurt her spawn on purpose.  BigWig tells her that he’s been informed of the incident, and that Ribeye told her correct in saying that the evil skate shoes were not permitted, and that she should have taken care of her spawn in the first place.

What actually happened:

I nearly tripped over the brat once, and the 2nd time I tripped over the brat I dropped the tray.  The food scalded my chest, and I was pissed.  I yelled at the child, and he yelled for his mother.  His mother yelled at me, and I stood my ground.  I’d already told her once that Heely’s weren’t allowed and she needed to control her child because we wouldn’t be held responsible should something happen.

I told her more than once to keep her child in line.  I told the brat that he couldn’t skate in the restaurant.  His mother let him do what he wanted, and he suffered because of it.  Children can not be allowed to do whatever they want.  When he skated after being told not to, his mother should have blistered his ass in the bathroom and then cancelled their order.  She should have paid for those Cosmopolitans, and taken her crotch-spawn home.  Instead, she let him get away with whatever, and then claimed no fault in the incident that followed.

Kids are the Bane of my Existence and they should be banned from this reality.

You might have noticed more of a fantasy feel to this post.  I’m considering an ongoing series like this, combining my fictional writing style with my non-fiction relation of work events.  I might even give you all a series of short stories that are based on real life, but are nothing but fantasy.  Who knows what I’ll do.

I’m the Ribeye of your Dreams….and I’m not your everyday blogger…but I’m still the hottest and the funniest!

Ribeye

I hate it when people get totally drunk in my presence.  I used to be drunk all the time, so part of it is a constant reminder of what I used to be.  The other part of it is that drunk people are just plain annoying.

A few weeks ago I had a group of guys, frat guys by the greek lettering on their shirts and caps, that came in for dinner and some drinks.  They seemed to be friendly at first, and  we weren’t all that busy, so I figured, let’s get them drunk and get their cash.  They always tip well because they’re trying to impress some girl(s) they’ve met during their visit.

It started out great.  I bring them a round of Jager Bombs, basic shooter, nice price for the lack of liquor they get.  I brought them appetizers, and they ordered entrees.  I noticed when I carded them they had Vandy school ID.  Vandy kids usually tip well, so I was even more happy.

Another round of Jager Bombs, and a round of bud light bottles.  I start wondering how long these 4 kids are going to be there.  I don’t mind, they’re fun to look at, and they’re nice….little did I know that things were going to change.

After they ate their food, they wanted to order another round of Jager bombs, along with a round of cuervo shots.

“Guys, I can only bring out one shot apiece right now, ya’ll have already had a bit.”

“What do you mean?  You’re not gonna serve us anymore?”  says the one who ordered the shots, we’ll just call him Jamie for lack of a better name.

I replied, “No, sir, I’m still going to serve you, I just have to slow it down liquor wise.  Not a big deal, you’ll still get to drink I just can’t bring out more than a shot for each of you at a time.”

“You not cuttin us off are you?”  I just answered that.  Aren’t you supposed to be a vandy student?  says #2, Jimmy, (can you see where the theme is going?)

“No, sir, I’m not cutting you off.  I’m just slowing you down.”

“But you can’t do that, we’re paying customers!”  #3, James says, starting to get loud.

“Guys, relax, you’re still going to get your drinks, just not as many at a time as you have been getting.”

#4, Jim, has been quiet this entire time, and when I look to where he was sitting, I see why.  He’s not there.  I look around, and he’s walking back from the bar with 4 shots of Cuervo.  Problem solved I guess.

“I’ll be right back with your Jager Bombs.”

A little while later, I go back to the table, and they’re starting to get louder.  They’re now hooting at the girls as they walk by, and it’s now time to cut them off.  “Can I get you guys a couple of cokes or something, maybe some chips and salsa?”

“Bring us 4 more shots of cuervo.” says Jim.

“I’m sorry guys, I think ya’ll are about done for a while.”

“So you’re cuttin us off?”

“Yes, guys, unfortunately I am.  I just can’t by law serve you anymore, it’s not too big of a deal, we just don’t want anyone having a wreck or hurting anyone, accidents do happen.”  Maybe I should have done it the right way and had a manager cut them off.  Instead, I did it myself and made sure to tell the bartender.

“But we’re gonna pay for ‘em.”

“Sorry guys, my hands are tied.”  A couple of them are slurring, and the level of obnoxious is far too high for my tastes.  I drop off their checks, and walk off.  When I come back to get their money, they try to order a drink from me again.

“We’re not drunk dude, we can handle it.”

“Once again, I apologize, but I can’t serve you anymore.”  I take care of their checks, and come back.  There’s a 50 sitting on the table.  “That’s yours if you bring us our Jager bombs.”

“You tried to order cuervo shots, not Jager bombs.  Thanks guys but no I’m not getting fired because you want to get more drunk than you already are.”  I screwed my tip, and the old me would have taken the 50 bucks, but I value my job too much.

A little later, they’ve found someone else to serve them, and they come stumbling from the bowling alley to sit back down at one of my tables.  “Welcome back guys, ya’ll need some coffee or anything?”

“What do you mean welcome back, this is our first time back here.”

“No, I served you guys earlier.  You paid and I thought you left.”

“We just gettin here, we been to the bowling alley tonight.”  They’re totally sloshed now I see.

“Can we get some tequila over here?”

“Sorry guys, but I already served you once and I can’t bring you any alcohol.”  Right about that time, one of them decided to hurl on my table.  I really hate drunks.  I went and grabbed them some towels, and a trash can.  “Guys, I don’t clean biological waste, please clean up after your friend.”  The vomiter, Jimmy, has nearly passed out at this point.  “Is he gonna be alright?”

“Oh this happens all the time.”  That’s reassuring.  They ended up trying to leave and drive, even after I offered to call a cab.  I had the manager call the cops.  I’m not dealing with that shit.

I also don’t clean up puke.

Ribeye

Over the past few months, after Sharece Thomas of YouTube fame posted her trashy video about the server that supposedly followed them out over the 8 dollar tip they gave him, I started wondering about that very question.  I asked around to all the servers at my job, and servers at the jobs around mine.

The answers I received were as expected.  “Are you kidding?  I’m not getting fired over some trash!” was the majority of the answers.  I’ve never met a single server who has followed a guest outside over a tip.  Let me correct that.  I’ve never encountered a single server who followed a guest outside over a bad tip.  I’ve followed people out to thank them for the awesome tip they left me, and I’ve followed people out to return something that was left on a table, but never over a bad tip.

Servers today, as unprofessional as they can be, do not actually follow their guests out over their tip.  It’s the lowest level of crass, and we’re not going to drop to our guests level.

Where did this come from?  I think, as do others, that Sharece Thomas is an utter liar.  I think she just wanted to have something to bitch about online that would give her attention, and it’s doing exactly what it was meant to do.  She’s getting attention, and she thinks that people have a problem with her because she’s black.  I posted here both videos that she has online.  She pulls the race card in the first video, and in the title of the second.

Sharece, we don’t give a flying fuck about your race, we hate you because you’re classless trash.  You give black people a bad name, most of them don’t want to be associated with you.  You say something about spitting in your food in this last video.  I don’t think people will spit in your food, they won’t get a chance to.  Nobody’s going to serve you if they’ve heard about your video.  They’re going to avoid you like the plague.  In the case that they do have to serve you, they’re probably going to put an automatic gratuity on your check so they CAN get money from you, whether you like it or not!   I’m calling you out, Ms. Thomas, I’m calling you out as a liar and trash.

Now don’t get me wrong, I can understand people not having a ton of money when they go out to eat as I’m not the richest boy on the planet, but when I go out, I make sure I have enough money to tip my server.  I tip well, being a server myself, but I also tip on service.  If the service is bad, I don’t tip as well as I should, maybe 10%, enough to cover the taxes that will be charged on them.  But I still tip.  To tip 4% like you and your friends did is deplorable and shows your utter lack of class and human skills.  If you’re going to go to a nice restaurant that for 4 people, dinner and 2-3 drinks each that’s gonna cost 160 bucks, you need to be prepared to tip your server.  Don’t think for an instant that the restaurant where you screwed the server won’t remember you and when you go back, if you haven’t already, you’re going to get shitty service.  It’s not because you’re black, it’s because you’re trash.

I doubt you’ll ever read this, but I can’t fit it all into a comment, and I’m sure if I did, you’d just block it like you do everyone else you don’t agree with.

Ribeye

Only this time, it’s nothing about tipping so much as us all being racist, and daring us to spit in her food. You can see my comments if you actually visit the page for the video posted below. Basically, it says that most black people with the exception of the ghetto are embarrassed by people like her, and that because of her showing her ass (publicly and figuratively) no server in their right mind is going to willingly serve her, and most management is going to back up the server in fear of losing close to 200 dollars because she’ll play the race card. I know the talk that’s gone around in Nashville restaurants, people know her face, servers and managers alike. I know of managers who would ask her to leave just on the basis of that video and the fear that she would besmirch their restaurant over nothing. I still don’t believe the server actually followed her out over the tip, that rarely happens anymore, and the server is usually fired on the spot when it does.