Welcome to my 150th post here on RagingServer.com!!!

I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d make it to this post, and without you it just wouldn’t have been possible.  By the way, to those of you with sites, I’m very sorry about my lack of commentation, I’ll remedy that.  It’s hard to work as much as I do, post as much as I do, and still have the motivation to actually visit the site outside of Google Reader.  Once again, I’m sorry.  I’m workin’ on it.   You’ve all made me so happy, and I haven’t reciprocated as much as I should other than giving you links.

Once again, my job was redneck hell tonight.  I hate them.  I hate them all.  I give all of you on BitterWaitress a nod that claim rednecks are not all bad and I’m thinking of white trash, but I’m sorry, you’re just wrong.  Rednecks are now tied with Ghetto trash as the scum of the planet.  They come in smelling like a fish tank, the women do anyway, the men smell like body odor mixed with motor oil and feces.  Despite this, I was in an exceptionally good mood tonight, and in rare form just like I was on Black Friday.

My first table was a table of redneck scum, and had I the time during my shift, I’d have posted about it then.   They actually started out alright, except for one guy at the table.

“Hey dude, I’m gonna naid some hawt sauwce.  Ya’ll got a big bottle of it back thaih?”

“I’ll bring you a bottle of tabasco as soon as your food comes out, sir.”

“But I wanna drank some of it now.”  How fucking nasty.  Tabasco is gross at the best of times with it’s smell and taste, that you want to drink it makes me want to hurl.

“Then give me a minute and I’ll bring some out to you.”  I go to another table, and start chatting with them, when I hear, “Hey, where’s my sawce?”

“Sir, I’m with another guest, I’ll have it to you in a minute.”  His parents (he’s at least 16 or 17 years old) don’t say a word to him, they don’t look embarrassed, they don’t look surprised.  “Hurry up then, I been waitin too long now.”  I keep talking to my other guests for a minute, our conversation has now turned into a mutual hatred of hickdom and we’re all laughing together when I hear, “What tha hells takin that waitress so damn long?”, just loud enough for me to hear.  I ask my guests to hold on for a minute.  I walk to the service station, snatch a bottle of tabasco sauce, and walk back to the hick table.

“First of all, sir, do not again yell at me or you won’t get served anymore.  Second of all, I’m not a waitress, I’m a server or a waiter.  Here’s your tabasco, your food will be here shortly, and once again, do NOT yell at me again.”   I start to set the sauce on the table and he snatches it from my hand.

“You do what I say, waitress, not the other way around.”   He opens up the tabasco, and puts his nasty lips around it and starts drinking it.  I wanted to retch.

“That’s alright, sir, you call me what you want, just remember, I’m the one who handles your food and you’re putting me in a bad mood.”  The family thought I was just joking with him, when in reality I was really getting pissed off.  His attitude was ruining my uncommonly good mood, and I wasn’t happy about it.  He stopped being a prick after that though.

Thirty minutes or so pass, and I go back to the table to see if they need anything else.  The dad grabs my arm, “You need to take that shit off my bill,” pointing at the cheeseburger.

“Is there something wrong with it, sir?  Were you just not that hungry?”

“I just want to eat it at home, I don’t want to pay for it if I’m not gonna eat it here.”   I was shocked.  “Sir, I can’t take it off your bill just because you want to eat it at home.”

“You pose to do what we want though, the customer always right!”

“Sir, there’s nothing wrong with your burger.  Nothing at all.  Therefore, being that you’ve eaten close to half of it and intend to take it home, I can’t take it off.”

“Then you better brang ya managah over here, cuz I ain’ payin for somethin I ain’ gonna eat!”

“But you’ve said you’re going to eat it, just not here.”

“WE ONLY GOTTA PAY FOR WHAT WE EAT HERE, NOT WHAT WE TAKE HOME WITH US!”  I’d known the whole time I was getting no tip, so now I didn’t care what they threw at me.

“Sir, I’m going to tell you like I told your son.  Do NOT yell at me again.”  I walked off.  Manager J the Spineless, cohort of Manager J the Impartial visits the table, and caves in.  He comps the burger.  I ring up an extra soft drink for the tabasco drinker.

I go back to the table and take the check.  As I walk off, I swipe the guys burger right off the table, and toss it into the trash.  “What the Hell did ya do that for?  I was gonna eat that!”

“No, sir, you weren’t paying for it, so you’re not going to take it home.”  I start to walk off again, and this time Momma grabs me by the arm.  “Ma’am, let go of me, right now.”

“Why the Hell is there another coke on this bill.  We had 3 waters and 2 cokes, not 3 cokes.”

“Well, your son there drank a bottle of tabasco, and I saw him take another from the service station and put it in his pocket, I’m just making sure the company gets reimbursed for the loss it has incurred during your meal here.”   They ended up paying, after complaining to the manager who refused to take off the other coke, but who did make them give back the unopened tabasco.  Life is fun sometimes, but I really hate rednecks who think they own the world.

Later on, I go on break and head through the mall.  I’m going to get my Starbucks, Venti 7 shot, hundred thirty degree, white chocolate mocha with gingerbread syrup and whipped cream, and I see one of our security guards.  It’s bad enough we have security there that can barely talk and rolls around with no legs in a hovaround, but now they also have Segways, the goofiest invention since the Heely.  I hate seeing people on these expensive pieces of shit, because they’re usually yuppie scum that think they’re hot shit owning one, and they’re just goofy as hell.

Here’s the security guard I saw.

After I got back from break (sorry, haven’t figured out how to make my editor write next to the pic, only under it), I felt better, I had caffeine in my system again.  I had some great tables, and then cover charge started.  The ghetto arrived, but not in full force like normal.  It was relatively calm.  I got busy, yes, but not with trash.  The other servers got the trash at the end of the night this time…until my last table.  They sat down about 30 minutes before last call.  They ordered, and canceled their order 4 times.  I stopped trying to get them food after the 4th cancel, and started doing sidework.  While they sat, most of them got up to run around and play games, leaving a very obviously intoxicated and quite ugly white girl with her ghetto assed, pants around his legs boyfriend.  I didn’t say anything to them while they were making out, and I didn’t say anything to them when they were feeling each other up.  One of my co-workers, however, noticed that her hand was underneath the table, and was moving in a peculiar fashion.  “Please…tell me she’s not doing what it sounds like she’s doing…” I thought to myself.  They needed to get a room, and not do what they were doing in my restaurant.  I left them alone, thinking that it couldn’t be anymore than harmless petting.  Nothing major, nothing x-rated.  How wrong I was…

I was walking through my section, and I see her facing him, a couple of beads of sweat rolling down her face.  I again pray that she’s not doing it.  I then see a little kid, maybe 4-5 years old, staring raptly under their table, and the guy is leaned back with his eyes closed.  The kid runs off, yelling, “She’s touching his pee pee.”  I still don’t know if she was actually jerking him off, and I don’t want to know.  That would push the limits of my belief and yours.  I’m chalking this one up to a myth unless someone else from work tells me otherwise.  We get trash, but we’ve never had that.  I’d just like to repeat, I don’t know if the handjob was actually happening, so don’t say anything about it being false, because I don’t know.  I only know what I think, and I wish I were wrong about that.

After that, I went out to smoke for a couple of minutes.  When I came back, the whole group was back at the table, and it was enough to grat.  They all started barking orders at me at the same time, and I stopped them to say, “I just want you all to know that there will be an automatic 18% gratuity on your party, being that there are 9 of you.”  Half of them left the table, the others just sulked and whined because they were going to be charged extra to eat dinner.  I finally ignored them when they tried to order from me at last call.  I walked off, and let them sit there.  They were ghetto, but no, they weren’t all black, they were mostly white girls with great big ankle holders on each side of their heads.

I also waited on an awesome woman named Lorraine, older woman who looked like a judge from Law and Order, and she was the most awesome guest of the night, leaving me 30 bucks on top of an 18 dollar auto-grat for a large party.  She was just fun, she and her family.  I just wish I’d been able to get her drinking…

Keep coming back, I’ve got ideas for some new stuff coming, and I need ya’ll to send me some of your ideas also.  I’m still working on the submission page for your personal Horror Stories, and I need some more topics for weekly features.  I’m also thinking about taking a cue from some other bloggers and having an “Ask the Ribeye” post each week, and RagingPartner is trying to convince me to set up a podcast.  I’m not sure about the podcast though, because I don’t like how I sound “on-air”.

About the 4 posts a couple of days ago, that was due to a glitch.  I had 4 of them prewritten (including the unpopular fart post), and accidentally posted them all within a couple of hours of each other.  That won’t happen again.  Only 2 of them were supposed to go up.

I know it’s been a long post, but it was the 150th post, so yes, it was bound to be long.

Shorter next time,

Ribeye

I saw a post on bitterwaitress.net forums a little while ago, about the hoveround, and it made me remember an old post I have…the original “Hovaround, now you’re fit to make me hurl” post. I’m expanding on that post tonight, mainly by posting these you see below….