Heimlich Throw Down

Hello again reader,

Tales do I have aplenty. And boy do I have a big one tonight!

In the course of my restaurant experience, I have seen many things, worked with many people, and encountered many situations. One such situation that I recently became aware of was such that didn't actually happen to me, but a friend of mine-- also a server.

Now dear reader, if there is anything any of you would value it would be your livelihood right?? I mean, what person (someone who isn't suffering from depression of course) would choose death over life? Right?! I mean, c'mon.

That being said, what person who was given the opportunity to be saved by someone else when they themselves could not help themselves out of their "death moment", would not be grateful? I mean lets be real here. If you were shot and someone stopped to administer first aid, if you drowned and someone resuscitated you, if you for example choked on a piece of steak and your server performed the heimlich on you, you would be grateful right? And furthermore, dear reader, you would be so grateful that you would express it enormously! At least, I would. But never-you-mind, if you wouldn't. Not everyone can be blessed with common decency.

I think you can guess where I'm going with this. Some time ago, a friend of mine was working his station, checking on his guests, and he happened to be walking by a particular table of his. A party of two. The gentleman who was out with this lady happened to be away from his booth at that moment. The server friend of mine, Mike*, noticed there was something not quite right. He looked, saw the lady keeled over, with her arms flailing about. Quickly, he realized she was choking. She wasn't able to dislodge the food on her own, and she was quite literally turning BLUE. Quick as a bolt of lightening, he dashed to her, picked her up from her booth, and pushed towards her belly for dear life! As if it was a movie, the piece of steak went flying from her mouth and on to the table, and she gasped, choked, for air. Now, you would think she would be thankful, hell you would think she would at least look up and nod her head, but of course gratitude was too much to ask. 

She sat back down, her husband joined her, and they finished their dinner. The patrons amongst the other table seemed exuberant towards Mike for thinking so quickly. But, no, not the guest who actually was saved by Mike's sharp mind. 

In the very least, reader, one would hope they would leave a decent tip as a way to say "hey, thanks for saving my life. I dont have good people skills, but I'm forever grateful." But did they? NO. Did they at least leave a customary 15%? NO. Did they at least leave 10%? NO. Did they leave anything? NOT A CENT!

To that I say, 

Fuck off. And as always, 

I hope you get food poisoning. 

XoXo,

The waitress

"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

Introducing yours truly, the waitress

Hello reader,

Allow me to introduce myself; i'm the waitress who's been serving all of you for the last six years of my life. I'm 22 years old, and could tell you a mountain of stories that I'm sure would amaze, surprise and dare I say it, even shock you.

I've been waiting tables for six years now, and to sum up my experience in a pithy phrase--I hope you get food poisoning. Now I dont mean that I actually want you to be terribly ill or die. Heavens, no! I am a giving servant after all. I mean simply that waiting on all you has lead me to nearly curse, drink, yell, scream, pull my own hair out, pull your hair out, and in general try and find a way off of the earth if only to avoid incessant questions and a thankless patron.

Now, let me be clear reader, it hasn't all been bad. There have been over the year some exceptionally kind regulars that I have had the pleasure of serving. However, the majority are not exceptionally kind, but rather dry, humorless, selfish, self-entitled nitwits. For that, I say thank you for teaching me patience my darling imbeciles. You have truly contributed to my growth.

But despite my self-reflection and sensible desire to learn from others and grow, I still firmly believe, my dear reader, that restaurant patrons can learn a thing or two about humility, kindness, and respect. Therefore, since I have found the majority to be completely deficient in simply saying "thank you miss" or  heaven forbid looking at me whilst they order me about, I can only conclude:

I Hope You Get Food Poisoning.

XoXo,

the waitress