Let me preface this by saying: I fucking hate serving ditzy assed females. I hate serving ditzy assed bitchy females. I hate serving ditzy assed bitchy young females.
EDIT: I’d also like to add: I know that not all sorority girls are like the ones I will describe here.  I’m sure I have many sorority readers, and I’m hoping you’re not one of the following or the previous.
I’m all about working parties. Really, I’m not lying about that, I do enjoy parties. This one, however, was one of the most annoying parties I’ve ever had the misfortune to be assigned. Today, myself and three other servers had the “pleasure” of serving 140 sorority girls….on bid day. I’m not going to say the name of the sorority because I don’t need a thousand bitchy old former sisters coming after me with the power of Ivy League father lawyers, but it was Kappa ____ _____. Bid day, with all the hundreds of fucking just out of high school females trying to be sisters, wearing stretch pants and throwing confetti and glitter around, feather boas losing feathers for me to sweep up as I closed tonight.

I didn’t know it would be a “Bid Day” party. Had I known that, I would have avoided working it. I got out of working it last year because I saw the results. Shitty gratuity, females scared to eat for fear of gaining a half ounce of weight, 2 boxes of diet coke syrup used up, countless bottles of grenadine making Shirley Temple’s, and annoying snotty attitudes.

When I saw them putting up their decorations, I knew what I was in for. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck is it too late to get out of this? Yes, yes it is.

We get everything set up, while the sorority demons were putting up posters. They have a helium tank, and proceed to put balloons everywhere: taped to the counters, strung to the bar, ribboned to the glass partitions between the bowling lanes. Great to know I’ll have to get rid of those before I can take actual lanes tonight.

The party starts. We start getting drinks for these sorostitutes. “Oh my god, you have shirley temples?” “Can I have a shirley temple?” “Bring us 4 shirley temples!” Not only did they have really thick valley accents that snotty just out of high school girls have, but they were almost as perky as fucking cheerleaders. We ran out of 3 boxes of diet coke, 2 of sprite, about 8 bottles of grenadine. There was a ton of food left over because they were afraid to eat.

I also came out of this party with a major headache. Screaming and screaming and screaming. Yelling and yelling and yelling. Lots of girl on girl hugs doing absolutely nothing for me. Lots of girls dressed fugily, and more screaming. The last few malingering scumlettes started releasing balloons to the ceiling of my bowling alley. The bowling alley that I was trying to clean. Then a hostess who shall remain nameless decided to run through popping the balloons. Over and over again until me and Mr. S went off on her because we had to clean the balloon guts up.

All of this for a lousy 50 bucks each on our check. They didn’t think we were good enough for anything extra. Fuck you Kappa _____ _____, Fuck you right in your stuck up little ear!

Some interesting knowledge I’ve figured out on the tipping debate. I’m learning that people with smaller checks, around 15-40 bucks, don’t mind tipping 18 to 20%, or even 25%. 45 dollars and more, and we a lot of time get 10 to 15% of the check, no matter how hard we work. Anyone want to shed a little light as to why that is?

My idea is that people don’t want to wait for the change on little checks, but on big checks, they use bigger bills and want most of the change back. I get a lot of people with 25 dollar checks that give me 30 bucks and say keep the change. That’s 20% right there. 30 bucks, they give me 36 or 37 and say keep it. Sometimes more. The bigger the check though, depending largely on the class of the guest (ghetto, redneck, entitlement junkie), the lower the tip. 5 dollars from rednecks or ghetto trash seems to be the norm, regardless of the amount of the check. Entitlement Junkies? If there’s a check left at the end of the meal for them to pay, then their job is unfinished, and they’ll tip on the post-comped price if anything.

Tipping on post comp prices screws us because we have to tip out on the pre-comp total. The pre-comp sales are also held over our heads, because if we don’t claim enough money when we clock out to equal what the IRS thinks we should have made on those sales, we get an audit. So we have to claim tips we didn’t make. If we claim less than 10% that puts us in danger. Legally, we claim 100%, but there’s some nights that we have so much trash that we don’t even make that 10% to claim to stay safe.

New group of people I hate to serve after this weekend? Gospel Singers/Fans. Crowds of them came in Saturday night, an hour before close. They were still coming in 10 minutes after last call. They were bitching because we weren’t allowed to seat any more tables. They were bitching because of how long the food took to come out. Some Godly people those Gospelers. No tips though, lots of bitching about gratuity. Just go somewhere else.

Ribeye