Monday, December 13, 2010

Day Six.-The worst of the worst.

I was originally going to write about a different topic, but after this evening I'm compelled to push my original idea back.

After waiting tables for almost two years, I've had my share of ups and downs. But, today I think I finally came across the worst table I've ever waited on.

It was in the middle of the dinner rush, when a party of fourteen came in. My section was empty and could accommodate the guests. Cool, I thought. I've handled parties with large numbers before so I figured it was going to be a breeze.

First the group didn't arrive all at the same time. I got drinks for those who had arrived and waited for the rest to show up. While waiting, those present put me through the ringer. They snapped their fingers at me, bellowed at me, and flagged me down from across the restaurant. I must say that in theses situations, I'm usually skilled in what do, but they wouldn't let me establish my control. Finally after an hour of waiting for their party, and putting me through hell they finally decided to order leaving the others out of luck. I should for servers we have a seat numbering system to help us figure out who sat where. I failed in my ability to establish control, and they disregarded my warning telling them to sit their asses down.

In the middle of taking the order for the fourteen, they received a call the twelve more people would be arriving. Yes, twenty-six people in total. Needless to say when the rest of the party arrived, the others got up to greet their loved ones. Thus, screwing my number system further. I struggled to keep up with their myriad of demands, and they continued to play musical chairs. I was at the table constantly, filling drinks and meeting their needs. This is when all of the men in the group felt compelled to leave their group and go drinking at the bar. In total the men ordered four shots of tequila, and numerous margaritas. They didn't bother to pay the bartenders, and I put their alcohol on their ticket with me. By this time, the men were trashed and their food just came out.

After complaining that it took too long to cook (considering there's twenty-six people, it takes some time to prepare), they decided to complain about the taste of the food. The complaints ranged from salty, tasteless, and bland. In total my managers were forced to comp over thirty dollars worth of food. After the food, came time for the cake (which they brought themselves, cheap bastards). After the cake time time to split the checks. Now, I must remind you dear reader that my numbering system had been shot to hell, and it took me a good ten to fifteen minutes to figure out who went on what check.

After delivering their checks, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was almost done. I went to pick up their payments when I was met with harsh glares and a myriad of complaints.
1.)-I had charged them for too much alcohol (FALSE): My bartender told me who had what drinks and the quantity. They lied saying they only had one margarita, not seven.
2.)-I had placed a gratuity of the bill and a way of insuring I got some form of compensation for taking the party. They complained that my service didn't merit the gratuity.

After talking with my manager, they reluctantly paid for their food. The guests paid in intervals, some not paying at the same time as the others. I'd received all of the payments, except for two. It was then I realized that two people left without paying for their bill.

The only silver lining through the whole experience the support I received from my fellow servers. Without them, I would have burned in flames.

In the end I received only a couple of bucks for a two-hundred dollar tab. Not worth the sheer amount of stress I was put under.

Thanks fuckers. Go jump off a cliff.

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