Back on a proper schedule, here are this weeks poll results.

When you go out to eat, do you prefer to:

• Go out with a couple of friends and have a few drinks (42%, 43 Votes)
• Go out with your spouse and have a romantic time (33%, 34 Votes)
• Go out with your family and enjoy the company (20%, 21 Votes)
• Go out alone, and relax (5%, 5 Votes)
• Go out with friends and get shitfaced while you’re out (0%, 0 Votes)

I’m quite surprised that nobody likes to go out and get shitfaced!  Things have changed since I was a drunkie.  That used to be my only purpose when I went out, and I did it often!  Not since May of 06, but it used to happen.

Stupid Names of the Week

Female:  Shakalia

Shequillia

ValReeta

Male:  Influenan

Homarian

ChaMarion

That’s it for this week’s edition of the Stupid Names of the week and the Poll Results.  The new poll is up and running, on the beliefs of the common folk.

Enjoy

Ribeye

Manuel has tagged me with a MEME.  This is the first one I’ve done, but why not.

Rules

Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 key words given here (family, friend, yourself, your love, anything you like).
Tag 5 other friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know them each a little bit better. Here we go I guess.

Family:  The only post I really have on here about my family is about the Raging Sister’s purse being taken at my job, and the evil that’s going to happen to the bitch that took it.

Friend:  Being mainly anonymous here, I don’t post much about my friends.  There is one post I can think of, where Benji the Barman had to deal with a weird woman that didn’t like our White Cracka Music playing where she drank.

Myself:  I do so love to talk about myself here, but there’s two posts that jump out at me on this one.  How not to touch the Ribeye is a major one, I hate being touched by weird guests.  The other are my personal rules for eating out.

My Love:  Raging Partner is my love, and he is the one who helps me keep this site going.  He does most of the design here, I only do the posts. The whole anonymity thing keeps me from talking about him much, and so I have no post about him.  My other love is the raging kitties, so I guess the pictures of them are for this spot.

Anything I like:  I like being a bitch.  I like reading.  I like money.  There are so many ideas, but I really like the Round Table.  That’s what you should all check out, the Round Table. 

Not the best meme, but the posts here aren’t exactly the right kind for this one.  I’m sure I’ll be tagged by someone else soon, so until then, would the following people please take their places:  Cassy of 1/2 server 1/2 amazing,  Monkey Girl, ER Nursey, Platy, and Tony.

Have fun everyone,

Ribeye

This weeks edition of The Round Table is now posted at

Everyone check it out and enjoy!

Here lately at my job, I’m noticing an increasing trend on the day shift.  It involves the servers cutting themselves off the floor as soon as one of the night shift servers arrive.  There’s a certain couple of them who shall remain nameless..**Hawk** who completely refuse to take any more tables 30 minutes to an hour before they’re scheduled to get off work.  I sure as fuck wish that I could refuse to take any more tables when it comes close to time that I’m scheduled off but no, I’d never get away with that.  I’d also never get away with being even half as lazy as some of these people are…refusing to carry a fucking sweet tea urn, or get ice.

Let’s say someone comes in and opens.  10 am.  they’re not scheduled off until 5.  That’s a scheduled seven hour shift, but it’s posted all over the place that if it’s busy, you won’t get cut.  Would any of you who serve be allowed to get cut if it was busy just because one of the night shift was at work?  No? I didn’t think so!

I think some of the kids working today, and I say kid even though the person I’m talking about is close to my age, are just pampered, spoiled snotty little fucking brats.  Go work at a restaurant where you have to do triple the work and you’ll never fucking last.  We have it easy where I work.  Minimal running sidework, minimal early out and closing sidework.  Yet some of these people…one main one who shall remain nameless…think sidework, running sidework, and silverware are deadly things.  God forbid you try to get a table stocked or a section swept, you’d think someone killed and ate their beagle!

Then we have the cooks who don’t make my life any easier.  Playoff game today.  Busy Busy Busy, and the kitchen fucking crashed.  We’re talking hour long checks on appetizers.  This is with a manager ON THE LINE with the moronic cooks.  I’m sorry to any who get pissed off at me for bad mouthing cooks, I had a horrible backlash last time.  Actually, no I’m not sorry.  How hard is it to not crash a kitchen with 8 cooks, a manager, 2 expediters, and only 9 fucking tickets in the window!  Not even big tickets, oh no.  These were little 2 and 3 top tickets.  Yet we still had hour long, medium rare steaks coming out well done, salads wilting, and ice cream melting.

Finally, we have the guests.  Many of these guests thought we were going to babysit their kids while they sat getting drunk and watching the game.  Sorry, after last night, my patience was running thin at work.  I was yelling at people left and right.  Kids running around or skating on those demonic heelies were really catching the brunt of my hatred today.  Parents getting drunk, they got it too.

The ghetto/redneck merged table that I had tonight really pissed me off.  They brought their kids out, and I’m thinking “Bubba and Lametriana here are gonna hook me up”.  They seemed pretty nice at first.  Then I carded Lametriana for her long island.  Wrong move there.  She was clearly old enough to drink, however, I was not getting fired for allowing her to do so without proper ID.

“Well I don’ wanna walk all da way ta my cah!  Cain ya just brang da drank?”

“No ma’am, I cannot.  I’m sorry.”

“Dat’s jus fuck up!”  Cussing me in front of her 6 and 8 year old crotch spawn.  Great example to set for your kids, bitch.

They later told me that they only had 170 to spend.  They let the kids play many games, ate lavishly, and she finally got her ID even though she bitched at me about it.  They tell me about 120 bucks in to let them know how much their tab was because of the 170.  Every round, I had to take them a new ticket.  Finally, when it reached 168 bucks, they gave me the 170 and told me to keep the change.

I had to leave the building for a few minutes to keep from killing them.  I had to pay about 8 bucks in tip-out for those bastards to eat.  The string of shit I was yelling as I went out the back door would have made a sailor cringe.  Once outside, in the below freezing weather, I yelled at the top of my lungs and was burning up.

“That fucking bitch, that dirty fucking redneck bastard, I hope the two of them rot in hell.  Let their kids burn…” and so on.  How the fuck dare they!  I gave them nothing but polite and happy service.

The best table of the night was one that tipped me 30 bucks on a 45 dollar check.  British people at that!  Well, 2 of them were british, the other two were american.  They tipped me so big because of taking up “my” table for so long.  It wasn’t even in my section.  It started out being my section, but it didn’t stay that way.  These guys were awesome though.  They took the time to talk to me, and asked me to eat dinner with them.  The wives came, and they loved me, especially when I carded them for their drinks.  Instant adoration.

I was scheduled off at 10 tonight.  I told everyone that at 9:30, I was going to stop picking up tables and cut myself off the floor, just to see if I could get away with it…like “the Hawk that shall not be named” did, but I was too busy and didn’t even realize when 9:30 passed.  We ended up running out of so much shit, the kitchen closed an hour early which pissed off a bunch of guests.  We ran out of fries.  Pissed off one woman really bad, because she got almost the last of what we had.  Was at a friends table, but I got to hear about it.  “I know yall kitchen about ta close but dat don’ mean I gotta get da bottom off da barrah.  Ain no way I be servin dis shit and I damn sure ain gonna eat it!”  She wouldn’t accept any of the free and normally upcharged alternatives, oh no, she had to have fries.  Too bad for her, we were out.

Too all who didn’t know, I am still a thief.  I still round up and down depending on the amount of change due.  Always give bills, don’t always give coins.  I figured that I might as well admit it with Springs1 posting it in every other comment about how I’m a law breaking criminal, and by LAW, I have to return *************************************************************EVERY******************************************************************************************

single fucking penny, because that’s not my money yet and it’s evil and wrong and I’m mean and uncaring.

Sorry bout all the stars, everyone, but I was driving home a point.  Don’t steal, hunt down every single penny, regardless of if the guest is in a hurry or not!

Ribeye

I worked a double today for my first day back to work after vacation.  It got really ghetto early in the day, and I’m not sure how.  It wasn’t just ghetto black people, it was ghetto crackhead looking white people too.  They were all trash.

First table of the day:  Ganeeta and her 4 crotch spawn.  They come in and I knew something was wrong when the 2 boys who weren’t even ten years old had their pants down around their asses.  How fucking ghetto can these people let their kids be.  These little fucking brats were rude as hell too.

Ganeeta “Brang us waddah.”  This is before I even get my greeting out.  After the demand for water, I try to introduce myself.  No luck there.  “Dis table be dirty.  Ain’ yall clean dis aftah otha people is done?”  The table wasn’t dirty, the table is stained and no amount of wood soap has cured it yet.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I’ll get a towel while I’m getting your water.”

“Don’t fo-get ta brang us a lotta lemon.” So I walk off, a piece of me dying inside that my first table after vacation is a bitch and her bitch kids.

When I get back to the table with the towel and waters, Ganeeta is nowhere to be found.  Her crotch spawn is sitting by themselves, the oldest is 12 or so.  Lamarrita, the oldest, decides to open her big assed mouth, with her rubber bands that had the big fucking beads on it.  I hate those rubber bands.  “My momma say you gotta do what we say.  She gonna be back in a houah.”  This bitch has pawned off her kids on me.

“I’m sorry, but she has to be here with you.  She can’t just leave you all here.”

“You need ta brang us some wangs and rainch.”

“Where is your mother?” I ask, not putting up with this shit.

“She shoppin.  You gon’ brang us ouah wangs?”

“No, I’m going to get security to take you to find your mother.”  Ganeeta later comes in to bitch me out, and complain on me.  Sorry bitch, but it’s not a daycare service.

I get another table later in the night, of 6 black kids, all under 18.  Company policy says we don’t serve kids under 18 without an adult.  I tell them this, and immediately get called a racist.  This has nothing to do with the color of your skin you little bastards, it has to do with the fact that you’re fucking CHILDREN.  I don’t serve high school kids without parents.  Fuck them all.

I had a guest stiff me tonight because the prices of the drinks were not on the menu, and she never asked how much they were.  I’m sorry they don’t come with the kids meals, but it’s not O’charleys.  She said I should have told her how much the drinks were, yet she never asked.  I don’t volunteer that information.  I give it when it’s asked of me.  I had a guest stiff me because the food took too long, when I told her up front the kitchen was running 45 minutes.  Her food was out in 26.  I had a guest leave me 2 on 50, and this is after giving them a comp they didn’t bother asking for, because I felt bad they had to wait for as long as they did.  Being nice gets me nowhere, obviously, so I’m just going to have to be a dick to everyone.  The tables I was an asshole too left me good money.  Time to change my ways.

On another topic, Springs1 seems to have returned to RagingServer.com.  She’s made a comment about me being a hypocrite because I’m mad that RagingSisters purse got stolen.  She calls me a hypocrite because “Isn’t it funny how it’s OK for YOU to STEAL from your customers not to return someone’s coin change”.   She states that she doesn’t feel sorry for me.  Nobody asked you to feel sorry for me, springs, I’m merely getting out a message.  I’ve never once had anyone bitch about that change, because it’s never more than a quarter or so.  I work in a fast paced area, and people just aren’t as Nazified as you are when it comes to things.

Once again, bitch, I’ve never asked once for any of you to feel sorry for me.  I was and still am merely trying to help my sister, who has been screwed by a crackhead bitch.  A crackhead bitch that I’m sure complains like you do about every little thing that goes wrong.  Fuck you Springs, and Fuck your husband.  He must not be too much of a man to be able to put up with you, you obviously wear the pants.  Do you wear the strap on too?   Nobody asked you to come back here and start commenting again, and nobody really wants to to be here.

As for the thief, come Monday, we’ll have pictures of the bitch posted here at RagingServer.  She’ll be a very public bitch after that, because the liquor store she used my sisters credit card at didn’t bother carding her.  They are, however, giving us the picture from the video, and her face will be online, on myspace, on facebook, and everywhere else.   Bitch is going down.

Until next time,

Ribeye