So this post is another one of those double topics, based on the things that happened today.  First off, I was told Sunday night before I left, to be at work at 3 pm on Tues-Friday, to teach training class *yes, the training suspension is over*.  I get up early and get ready.  I go out and start my car.  Car is not moving once it’s started, for the tires are stuck in the mud.  Have to wake up partner to borrow his truck.  Finally leave.  I get there at 3 today, ready to teach.  I look around for my trainees, and they’re not there.  I look around a little more, and I find a couple of them in the dining room.  In a class, with the boss of the waitstaff, “Flip-Flop”.   So I head back to the office to get my laptop, when I realize, I can’t leave.  Partners truck is almost out of gas.  Leaving and coming back would mean I’d run out after work before I got to gas station.

FUCK.

Now I’m stuck here for 3 hours with nothing to do. I think to myself.  I wander around, smoke a couple of cigarettes (outside, as to not get fined), and wander back in.  Convince GM to pay me for working on training stuff, so that’s 3 hours at ten an hour of my doing what I usually do here for free.  After all that, a couple of the trainees for the night class start swandering in about 5pm.  I’m wondering where their teacher is.  I go back out to smoke, and Business Manager Prick gets on the speaker telling me to come inside because I have a class waiting for me.  I tell him I’m not teaching class.  10 minutes later, I’m teaching class.  “Flip-Flop” is still on the floor, so I’ve started it for him, fully intending to go on the floor once he takes over.  Cocktail Nazi Boss walks in, tells me that I’m going to teach the entire class.  Embarrassment in front of trainees, I feel like I’m being made to look like I know nothing.  I resume class, these four patient ladies just loving me (I hope anyway), and low and behold, in walks “Flip-Flop” who proceeds to kick me out of my class.

Why the hell can’t they get the training schedules right?  Why don’t they just let me write them?  Oh yes, I’m going to be soon =).

As for the guests, I have not had a night in a long time where there wasn’t a single guest to piss me off.  Maybe the rain is like a “Ghetto Shield” or something like that, but we didn’t have any trash in there at all.  No entitlement junkies whatsoever.  I had a nice couple from Massachusetts, who was in town visiting some friends.  They were awesome, and talked to me for a while.  Then we have the little family who’s out for the mother’s birthday.  In short, a good night, and my blood pressure returned a little closer to normal.

It’s nice to not be pissed off.

Ribeye

After the past two nights of utter and complete Hell, and the lack of money it has brought in, I’ve decided I’m in favor of adding an automatic 20% gratuity to ALL guest checks.  There’s different reasons for this.  1, it’ll be easier to claim tips for the irs and keep from being audited.  2.  I don’t want to have to worry about all the white trash and ghetto trash tables not tipping me, or leaving me shit tips making it so that I’m basically paying for them to eat.  3.  I’m tired of people who feel they don’t have to tip while they run me and my serving associates like dogs.

People who don’t tip or tip poorly when they receive excellent service are what I like to call “Entitlement Junkies.”  These are the people, and yes, I’m going to say it, the ghetto black people and the snotty black people, the trashy trailer bound inbred white hicks, the snotty rich white bastards, and the military.

In the case of the ghetto black people, they think it’s their job to run us around for nothing.  Even the black servers at my job don’t like waiting on the ghetto, and with good reason.  They don’t get tipped by them either.  The snotty black people think that we (we meaning white servers) OWE them the service, because of ancestry issues.

The trashy trailer bound inbred white hicks think they should run us around without tips because they work in factories making canned food and potato chips and get treated like trash, so they come out to treat us the same way.  The snotty assed rich white trash bastards think they’re better than us because they’re rich, so they’re just going to treat us however they want because they have money and we don’t.

The military people, well, they just don’t often tip well, especially the younger ones.  After all, they’re “defending our freedom” as one has told me, and in his own words, “Why should we give you cowards who aren’t serving your country anything, we’re already keeping you free.”  This was a 23 year old recently returned from Iraq.  The reason is, because we keep your wife and baby fed while you’re there.  We keep your parents spirits high while you’re out there risking your life.  It’s also the right thing to do.

If you people are going to come out to a restaurant, and expect us to do your bidding, then expect to tip us, or the next time you come in, we’re going to ignore you and not care what you say to the managers.  The managers support us, because they don’t want to do what we do, they don’t want to put up with your entitlement bullshit any more than we do, so just tip and we’ll all be happy.

That all being said, I don’t want to hear anymore that I’m a “Fucking Racist piece of shit” in e-mails.  I’ve never used the “N” word on here, and I never will.  I have many black friends who think the same way I do.  We’re all just tired of the trash.

We all know it’s not all the black people that don’t tip.  It’s a select couple of areas of the African American race.  The respectable ones, the ones that wanted to make something of themselves, they tip and they’re happy to do so.  They’re great to talk to, and you can learn a lot from them.  I’d much rather wait on a couple of my black regulars than most of the white people I have to deal with.  Not because they tip well, because they only tip average, but because they don’t treat me like shit.  They are good people.  They aren’t trash.

If you’re trash, it’s time you just started staying at home.  If you’re an entitlement junkie, then it’s time for you to go to Hell and burn.

Ribeye

At least, it’s killing the cocktails money.  Our venue’s, the bowling, billiard and game rooms, were the smoking rooms at my job.  Then comes October 1st, 2007, and voila (see that, Tom, I spelled it right this time), no more smoking.

This smoking ban is controversial at best.  On one hand, we have the non-smokers, screaming about their health and how they shouldn’t be forced to deal with second hand smoke.  I sympathize, I do, but then again, I’m also a smoker and you people have taken away yet another of my rights.  On the other hand, people in TN haven’t gotten used to going to a bar and drinking without their cigarette.  It’s not New York, this ban JUST HAPPENED here.

The law says (according to SmokeFreeWorld.com) “Statewide smoking ban takes effect October 2007. All restaurants will be required to be smokefree indoors unless they limit access to people 21+ at all times (including restaurants with bars, chain and hotel restaurants).”  

I’ve heard different variations of this law, one saying that as long as a restaurant has a separate room that can be sealed off from the rest of the venue, and has it’s own entrance and ventilation then smoking will be allowed.  I don’t know how true it is, but we don’t have that separate room so it really doesn’t matter.

I understand that people are trying to protect our bartenders and servers, but I have to say, out of the 9 bartenders at my job, only 2 are non-smokers.  Out of the 15 cocktails, I think there is only 1 that is a non-smoker.  The waitstaff?  Theres 17 of them I think, and maybe 3 non-smokers.  It’s NOT that big a deal to us.  This was just another way for the government to decide how we live our lives, nothing more and nothing less.  If you don’t want to deal with smoking, or don’t want your kids around it, then don’t bring them out to a bar with you games or no games.

We have lost business since this ban.  We’ve lost a lot of it.  My money is suffering, because we don’t have that many people sitting in our area.  Before, the smokers just knew to come to us, and the non-smokers only ate in the game room when the dining room was full.  Now, they just don’t come back there because they’re just so used to coming in the front door and getting a table.

Then there’s the people who don’t want to be compliant.  We have a few guests who refuse to accept the ban.  I respect and admire them, they still smoke even when we tell them to put it out, and I just wish I could be in their place….It’s not a major thing, but it’s a rebellion nontheless.

A few nights ago, I had a group of people in the bowling alley.  All ghetto trash, 2 black guys, a black girl and 2 white girls.  When I say trash, I mean they were bottom of the grease trap trash.  These girls were wearing next to no clothes, and the ankle holders were the biggest I’ve seen in a while.  One of the girls, I went to school with.  She comes from a nice, “WASP” family, well as waspish as you can get in Tennessee.  She used to have class, and now she talks like she was born in a crack house.

As I approach the lane, I’m wondering when I can get outside to have a cigarette for myself.  Then I smell it.  It’s the warm smell of a menthol.  I wondered, could I be dreaming?  Was the ban a hoax?  Nope, no-smoking signs everywhere and we all took the ashtrays home.

“Hey everyone, how are you all doing tonight?”   I ask while looking down at the packs of Newports, Black and Milds, and Virginia Slims.  I really want to smoke at this point, but we have this new “smoking pass” system, and even with that, we don’t get to go from 7-11 because my area manager, Mr. M made it his personal rule.

“Brang us a ashtray.”  Says RayQuisha, she with the alabaster skin and the medusa braids all over her head.  “We ain’t got no place ta flip deez.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but it’s illegal for you all to smoke in a restaurant now, as of October 1st.”

“What you mean?  Dis ain’t no restaurant, dis be a bah.”  Says LayMishiara, the young black lady, who while ghetto, still had more class than the other two.

“Yes, while I would love to allow you ladies to smoke, it’s no longer allowed in restaurants here in Nashville, and this is considered a restaurant being that we have a full food menu and a full kitchen.”

“You cain be tellin us ta put deez out, we got rights you know,”  says JaHaramarinara, the other white trash, “Dis be becauz we wit deez black men.  You be a racist.”   Fuck you bitch, I’m trying to not lose my job.  I don’t care who you’re getting down with or getting crabs from.  I’m not losing my job because I let you smoke, and I’m not getting my restaurant a fine when the Health Dept. comes in for one of their surprise smoking checks!

“This has nothing to do with race, ma’am, this has to do with you breaking the law.”

“Well you betta go get a fuckin managah, cuz we ain’t puttin deez out.”  Fun times.  I get a manager, who tells them to put them out.  “Fuck naw, dis be bullshit”  I here JaHaramarinara yelling, “We be grew up.  How you just gon tell us what ta do?”

“Because it’s the law, and we’re not getting fined over you.  Put them out or leave, it’s your choice.”

Thankfully the “ladies” didn’t end up ordering anything from me.  I wondered why the two guys kept their mouths shut the whole time, and when the “ladies” went to the bathroom to snort another line or put in a plug or whatever they were doing in there, presumably smoking in secret which will still get us a fine, one of the guys told me “We jus picked dem up at anotha bah.”   He ordered a few Hen and cokes, his tab ended up being like 36 bucks, left me 50 and told me to keep it.

“Maybe dey raggin or somethin, can’t take no bitch out nowhere no mo witout dem ackin a foo’.  Sorry bout dat.”  He ordered long islands for like an hour, and ended up leaving me almost 20 bucks.

This also brings me to wonder why this epidemic of embarrassing trashy females has decided to come out.  Their boyfriends/fucks/husbands are apparently getting tired of it.  As long as they keep tipping big because of these bitches, I say bring it on.  If you can deal with it guys, so can I.  To all you men, white trash and ghetto trash alike that have to deal with a bitchy woman that embarrasses you in public, I respect you for not strangling her.

God knows I would

Ribeye

So tonight, about 11 pm (we close at 1 am), I was the only person left on the floor, and was running 8 tables.  A ninth sat down.  I walked by them with an arm full of dishes and told them I’d be right with them, as I was behind.   I thought all was well.   Oh how wrong I was….

“What the fuck took you so long?”  Narishiana (yes, that was her real name, as shown by her dollar general market name tag).  “We been sittin here ova 20 minutes now.”  Total wait time for me was 4 minutes after I told them I’d be right with them.

“I’m sorry about your wait ma’am, I’m a little behind.  Can I get you started with a couple of insert signature drinks here tonight?”

“Is dey gonna be fray fo oua wait?”

“No, ma’am, because you weren’t sitting here for 20 minutes, you were sitting here less than 5.”

At this point, her boyfriend, pimp or whatever he was busted out laughing, earning him a swift kick in the shin.

“Is you callin me a liah.  I need to see yo managa.”  So I send the manager over to the table, no change, drinks are still charged to check.

I take their order a few minutes after I deliver the drinks, and let them know that the kitchen is a little behind because it’s so late and we’re still busy.

“Do dat mean it’s gonna be fray if it take too long?”

“Let the man work baby, damn!”  I love it when they fight at my table.  She starts yelling at him, and he just looks at me and mouths “sorry”.

Their order takes a whole 15 minutes to come out, which compared to the rest of the night wasn’t that long at all.  I see the food being delivered while I’m at another table, but I don’t see if there’s a side of mayo with her burger.  I get to the table, “Where the hell’s my fuckin mayo?  I can’t eat my damn burger without no mayo.”

“Ma’am, if you’ll give me a moment, I’ll go to the kitchen and grab it.  I’m sorry for the inconvenience, apparently the server who ran your food didn’t read the ticket correctly.”  I run to the kitchen and grab her mayo.  I get back to the table, and hear, “so embarrassing every time we go out I’m sick of it.”  Her boyfriend had apparently had enough, because he came to me a few minutes later, paid me for his food and drink, and tipped me 10 bucks for the problems.  Then he left her there.  I felt so proud.

She ended up leaving me exact change for her food and drink, and telling me she’d be calling our corporate office to complain about her experience.  I told her, “You do that ma’am, and you have a good night now, ya hear!”

I love it when the boyfriend sees it my way.  I just can’t believe someone as classy as he was would be seen in public with trash like she was.  She wasn’t wearing much in the form of clothing, skirt showing everything, Britney style, and a couple pieces of string over her titties.  Big ankle holders, and hair about 5 inches above her head.  It made me nauseous just looking at her.

At least I still ended up with a good tip for the total bill because of him.

Ribeye

    As I promised, the “at the table to-go food eaters” thread has arrived.  It happened to me tonight actually.  I was in the bowling alley tonight, and was having a good time at first.  Then, “Monique” let out.  We got swamped with a bunch of fat people, a bunch of ghetto people, and a ton of annoying as hell people.

One of my lanes thought it was a good idea to order all of their food to-go.  I figured they were just going to take it home with them, so I brought them to-go silverware with their orders.  Little did I know…

Chlamidya: “Can we get some real forks?”   As soon as she asked, I knew what was coming.

“Give me just a moment, ma’am, and I’ll have them right out.”

Champaignitta: “Hurry up, da food be gettin cold.”  I just said I’d have it in a moment bitch, don’t fucking rush me.

I bring them their silverware, about a package full of napkins and wet naps for their ribs and wings, and 4 glasses of water.  They don’t really run me that much, they just make a huge mess.  I guess the throw away boxes they had for their wings and ribs just weren’t good enough to hold the bones, because they all ended up on the floor.  When I brought them the check, they paid with a credit card.   I took the slip back to them, and Chlamidya asks me, “Why is there a line for a tip on here, all our food was to-go?”  There ya have it.  People actually think that when the food is to-go, they don’t have to leave a tip, even when they fuck up your lane, and run you like a dog.  Dirty crotch-rotted whores.

We also ended up running out of wings, which made one of my guests extremely pissed off at me.  We’ll name her LaSquisha.

LaSquisha: “I want some BBQ wangs.”  No please, no may I.

“I’m sorry ma’am, we ran out of wings about an hour ago.”

“I don’t believe you, you just don’t wanna get em for me.”

“No, ma’am, we ran out an hour ago, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

She huffs, “Well what da fuck im pose ta eat now?”

“I’m not sure ma’am, but there’s a full menu right there if you’d like to take a look.”

“Can’t you just go to anotha place and get some wangs from dem?” Sorry honey, I have other guests, and I’m not taking time out to go hunting other restaurants for wings, especially when you’re not going to tip.

“Ma’am, we’re not allowed to do that I’m sorry, but I’ll gladly get you something else that we’re not out of.”

“You ain’t got no damn wangs, what I’m pose to eat?  Wait, ya’ll got some drums?”

“Ma’am, those are mixed in with the wings in our buffalo and bbq wing appetizers, they are mixed together in the bag when we get them from the supplier.”

“You sayin you can’t give me no drums neitha?  What the fuck I’m pose to eat?”  Just how many times can you possibly ask me that bitch?

“I’m not sure ma’am, but I’ll gladly give you some time to look over the menu.”

I walked off, and went to take care of another guest.  When I got back to her, I asked again.

“Ma’am, have you decided what you’d like tonight?”

“Well I want some wangs.”

“I’m sorry about being out of wings, ma’am, but I can’t do anything about that.”

“Then I don’t want nothin!  Just go away and leave me alone.”

I swear she was crying when I walked off….

Also, for those of you out there who assume I’m going to say that all black people don’t tip, some do.  They are the ones with CLASS, and aren’t trash.  I waited on a great party tonight, non-ghetto, all black, that LOVED ME, and left me a 40% tip, which was another 22 percent over the gratuity.  They asked to be moved away from their ghetto trash cousins, and one of the women in the party asked me to not judge based on them.  “Some of us aren’t trash baby, those kids over there, they’re just trash.”  I wanted to marry her right then and there!

Come back later for more people

Ribeye