Today is a new day, month, year... Whatever... I haven't posted in a long time but I'm back by popular demand. And by popular demand, I mean, one of my friends said that I should post again. Here I am. Well I have switched jobs. I am at another chain restaurant, this one isn't a "neighborhood" so much as a "hood"... We specialize in chicken (wings to be exact). Our most valued customers order their chicken wings, hard, all flats and wet. And by "valued" I mean, non-tipping, non-valued at all customers. They are the people who are my favorite tables to wait on. (And by favorite, I mean I want to gouge their eyes out with a fork!)
This is where I am today... If you don't want me to hate you, then don't do any of the following...
1. Me-"Hi, can I get you a Coke product?"
Them- "I want a Mt.Dew"
Me-"We don't have Mt.Dew, we have Coke products"
Them-"I want a Dr.Pepper"
Me-"We have Mr. Pibb, will that do?"
Them-"I'll just have a Pepsi"
Me-"We have Coke"
Them-"Pepsi is fine"
Me-"Okay, I'll be right back with your Pepsi. (In my head, "I"ll be watering down your Coke so it tastes like a Pepsi, I guess, you fucking moron")
2. Guys food comes out... He eats over half of it, and then this happens...
Me- "How is everything? Everything tasting good?"
Him- Very angrily -"There's too much meat left on my chicken bone, I can't eat it!"
Me- Trying not to laugh- "Um, did you want me to get you a box, sir?"
Him- "I don't want a mother fucking box, I can't finish this because there is so much meat! This is crazy!"
Me- "Well let me get the manager for you, sir."
I go get the manager, he comes over and basically says the same thing that I do... Asks him if he'd like a box for the chicken he can't finish. The man isn't happy. Mind you, no one ever complains about there being "too much" meat on the bone. Usually the wings are too small. This man clearly just wanted money off of his $70 bill because him and his family of 4 got a lot of wings, plus drinks and sides.
After the manager leaves, he is still sitting there... At this point, his wife and sons look embarrassed (which makes sense, considering their dad is insane and cheap).
Me- "Did the manager help you sir?" (I'm only asking because I'd love the bill to be paid.)
Him- "No, he asked me if I wanted a mother fucking box!"
Me- "Well, did you want a box, sir?"
Him "You tell him he can put this chicken in a box and take it home to his mother fucking dog!"
Me- "He doesn't have a dog sir, but I will tell him"
Him- "Whatever, I'm calling corporate and telling them all of this!"
Me- "Telling them that you couldn't finish all of your chicken because you were too full?"
Him- "Whatever! Fuck you all! Fuck this place!"
Don't complain that you have too much chicken and can't finish it. You will just look foolish.
3. Customer- "I want 12 traditional Buffalo wings"
Me- "Well the Buffalo is a dry rub. Did you want a wet sauce?"
Customer- "Huh? I want the Buffalo!"
Me- "I don't have a Buffalo sauce per-say--I have mild, medium and hot. Or the Buffalo dry rub."
Customer- "I don't want nothin' dry! I want it wet. The wet Buffalo, like a normal sauce."
Me- "Okay, so do you want mild, medium or hot?"
Customer- "Well I don't like nothing hot."
Me- "So you want mild then?"
Customer- "Just give me honey barbecue"
I will murder you and your family and smother them in Honey BBQ sauce! Ugh!
4. WE DON'T HAVE ANY KINDS OF FANTA... NOT PURPLE, RED, BLUE OR ORANGE. AND BY KINDS, I SUPPOSE I MEAN COLORS.
5. If you require all flats or well done wings, please order them. Do not expect me to read your mind. Trust me, if I could read all of your minds, there would be no reason for me to have the moronic conversations I have to have with you people every day. Thus, this blog would not exist. Trust me, I would rather not socialize, talk or ever even see the majority of my customers. Do not treat me as if I should be able to read your mind. If you don't ask for extra of something how will I know that you need it? I.E. Ranch, bleu cheese, bleu ranch (aka bleu cheese for idiots), napins (napkins for idiots), them things to put our food in (boxes for idiots), you know that stuff (could be a ranch, bleu ranch, napkins or boxes, who knows).
6. Last and certainly not least... Gratuity is pronounced just as it it spelled you fucking dumb ass people! It is also added to your bill (of 6 or more ppl) because we are certain that you and your 5 "cousins" will not tip us. We only make $2.65 an hour and know that you will run us around the restaurant for hours getting you refills on your lemonade and Sprite and waters, and never tip us. I don't care how much you complain about having to pay "gratity, grattattuey, or whatever the word of the day is", you will be paying it or you will have a police escort you out of our restaurant. If you can't afford to tip, you can't afford to go out to eat. Stop thinking that we will babysit your kids, clean up your mess, give you extra attention and drinks for free, and then not expect a tip from you.
Thank you and have a nice day. Unless you are a culprit of the last 6 things, then FUCK OFF AND DIE!