"I hate to do this, but...."

Hello again reader,

As you may have already ascertained, I'm rather annoyed by the habits of some of the restaurant patrons I have encountered. I'm sorry but I don't think my job is to listen to you yammer on your cellphone, while other patrons around you stare at you and then me, telling me with their eyes "Do something!" I'm a server, i'm not the Pope. I dont have some all encompassing power to tell other people how to dine out. I can't exactly stop you from smoking your filthy cigar next to a women with her babies, but you know who suffers for my lack of authority? Me. I do. Not you. So next time you decide to light up next to a new born infant, remember this: while you may have a death drive, the newly born innocent child sitting next to you does not. And for heaven's sake, spare me, my manager, and our ears. Because the people who get the earful for your mistakes is not your dear darling blameless self. Oh no. It is yours truly, the waitress and the managing partner. So grab some nicorette next time your on your way out. I know, I know it would be too altruistic of you to care about those around you, but think of it this way. When you skip a cigar here and there, you save your lungs, the darling children's lungs, my lungs, and my ears. It's a win win darling. And that is what they call a suggested tip. Take it.

"I hate to do this but..." is what I will have to hear when I levy the complaints from the other patrons.

 "I hate to do this but..." sure, I will grant that there are times when a restaurant patron has a right to complain. If you ordered a rare steak, and it came out charred like beef jerky laying in the sun, then, you have an absolute right to your complaints. However, if you're here to tell me those hateful six words after you ate your whole meal and enjoyed some of your date's meal as well, then there is something sincerely wrong with your little pebble of a brain. Sure, serving has taught me that nomadic gypsies do exist and will swindle you whenever they can. However, the majority of people who say "I almost never complain, but I just have to tell you that this was sub-par...." have eaten their meal, enjoyed their service,   and had what appeared to be a pleasant night dining out. So, I can only assume that the darling moron who is voicing his complaint after licking his plate DRY is CHEAP. No two ways around my darlings, that man is a miser, a filthy, stingy, greedy, fool hardy scrub. And he is going to skip out on tipping lovlies. So ladies, the man who complained about his food and had it all comped is not your knight in shining armor. Hate to break it you, but he is a lousy self-entitled prick who lacks tact. You'd be better off dating a soap dish.

As always,

I hope you get food poisoning

XoXo,

the waitress