Actual Events/Quotes From My Job
If you've never worked in service or retail...you haven't gotten to truly experience how stupid people are. You may or may not have gotten to hear some of the unbelievable shit that people will say without even meaning it, or the more unbelievable shit people will say and fully mean. I've decided to keep a running post with funny and/or stupid shit that happens to me at work. I'll start with a couple scenarios in which I fortunately was able to leave the table before I busted out laughing.
I come to a couple's table to pre-bus some plates, and the lady is drinking the sauce out of the bottom of her side of apples with a straw.
Beav: Wow, like those apples huh?
Husband: Yeah, she just has to suck every last little drop out of the thing.
Beav: Well.....I'll get these plates out of the way for you and be right back with your check...
(Wanted to say any of the following)
1) Good girl!
2) In that case, let's discuss my tip...
3) Now I know why you married her.
****************
I drop off a garden salad to a college-aged girl sitting in somebody else's section:
Beav: Okay, I've got a salad with ranch for you.
Girl: Oh wow, that's huge! Thank you!
Beav: (Leaving as quickly as possible) Sure thing....
Wanted to say:
1) Well if you think the salad is impressive...
2) Keep those words in mind, you'll use them again later.
3) If I had a dollar for every time a girl has said that to me...
4) Well, size matters.
*******************
Yesterday I waited on a table of two black men. If you're not familiar with black men, they will generally say anything they want to you and not think twice about it. I also find them to be much more vocally homophobic, if only in my experience. Case in point: the guy on the right wanted a margarita, but demanded that I serve it to him in a plastic coke glass with no salt because he did not want, and I quote, "a faggish glass." Having a margarita glass in front of him evidently would have left the door wide open for others to assume he's gay...which would, of course, make it true. The same man would later point out that his friend's mashed potatoes were unacceptable because his friend (who was eating chicken) was a vegetarian, and there was ham in the potatoes. I assumed he was joking, but when I learned that in fact he was serious (his friend was becoming vegetarian in "stages"), I had to explain that what he saw was not ham (which we don't have), but the red potato skins in the "Garlic Redskin Mashed Potatoes". We don't call them that because the founder of the restaurant is Native American, genius. The same table later asked me what I wanted for a tip. I told them $1,000.
***********
A month or so ago, I got a table of pipeliners. 3 of them were from Southern Missouri, and one was from Arkansas. The ones from Missouri made fun of the guy from Arkansas, despite the fact that rural Missouri is home to the dumbest and ugliest people anywhere on earth. Also, the one from Arkansas was the only one with a scrap of class. They looked like stupid white trash, and acted accordingly. They all ordered alcohol, but one didn't have his ID so I wouldn't serve him a Long Island Iced Tea. After giving me a good 5 minutes worth of harassment, including logically flawed scenarios in which they "Went to the truck to (insert air quotes) 'get his ID'" or if one guy slid his ID to the other, they angrily ordered salads with "A fuckin' shitload of ranch and bacon bits." I had to personally make all 4 of the salads, and was sent back twice for more ranch and bacon. While I was gone, they spent their time making lewd comments to the hostesses. Included in this were "Damn, look at the ass on that." and "Shit baby, I wish I could see through them jeans."
If it were up to me, I'd stop serving them then and there and tell them to get the fuck out and never come back if they're going to talk to the girls like that. As it was, our front-of-house manager (Useless) that night was a former Hooters waitress, so she of course talked a lot of shit about what she'd do to them if they talked to her like that, and then ate it up when they did talk to her like that.
Useless: How does the food look tonight guys?
Supid Hick: Not as good as you look. (Side note: she's not that cute)
Useless: (Giggling) You guys are being ornery tonight!
Bitch, please. If you're going to be an attention-seeking, spineless skankbox, then you deserve to be talked to like that. As my co-worker $3 Bill once told her, "If you weren't engaged, you would be such a hoe..."
The one dumb hick sitting closest to me took it upon himself to try to mess with me once I wouldn't serve his dumb hick buddy the Long Island, but sadly he wasn't properly armed to battle wits with me. On one occasion, he asked me for "a side of ass" with his meal. I told him we were fresh out of ass, and that if they'd come in a half hour sooner we'd have had some.
After they had paid out and given me a shitty tip apiece, the spokesman stood up and got a big, stupid grin on his face. Clearly he had what he thought was a great idea. He asked his next question very loudly, so that he might offend everyone in my section and thus hopefully upset me.
Dumb Hick: Hey, you know where the whorehouse is at around here?
Beav: Nope, sorry man. Can't help ya there.
He eyes me for a second, and grins even bigger. Now he's clearly got something *clever* to use on me.
Dumb Hick: You know where the gay whorehouse is?
Beav: Nope, sorry. Can't help you there either. Have a good one...
I somehow didn't laugh in his face for coining the phrase "gay whorehouse". Also amusing was the idea that I'd be such a stupid, insecure homophobe that the insinuation that I might know where the "gay whorehouse" was would get me furious. Moronic guys always think they can get somebody riled by calling them gay or making some other comment to that effect. This doesn't bother me in the least, because I know that I can't be *made gay* by the declaration of one irritated yokel. The thought of giving him a full-on kiss as a response to his last comment crossed my mind, but I figured he might be so horrified that he'd come in and murder me with the 12-gauge he undoubtedly had in his truck.
Among the things I wanted to say to this guy:
1) Sorry, I don't know where the whorehouse is, since I don't have to pay to get laid because I'm not a toothless, needle-dicked, hillbilly dipshit like you. Maybe if you weren't a functionally retarded douche you could get a girl.
2) Gay whorehouse? Alright, just give up before you hurt your brain.
3) You know, I could just tell as soon as you sat down that you'd wanna know where to get some dick around here.
4) No, but your mom does.
As it was I let them walk out and go back to South Bumblefuck, Missouri. The running joke around work for the next week or so was to ask people if they knew where the "gay whorehouse" was if they were annoying you.
Look for more updates to this post the longer I continue to work and interact with morons.
I come to a couple's table to pre-bus some plates, and the lady is drinking the sauce out of the bottom of her side of apples with a straw.
Beav: Wow, like those apples huh?
Husband: Yeah, she just has to suck every last little drop out of the thing.
Beav: Well.....I'll get these plates out of the way for you and be right back with your check...
(Wanted to say any of the following)
1) Good girl!
2) In that case, let's discuss my tip...
3) Now I know why you married her.
****************
I drop off a garden salad to a college-aged girl sitting in somebody else's section:
Beav: Okay, I've got a salad with ranch for you.
Girl: Oh wow, that's huge! Thank you!
Beav: (Leaving as quickly as possible) Sure thing....
Wanted to say:
1) Well if you think the salad is impressive...
2) Keep those words in mind, you'll use them again later.
3) If I had a dollar for every time a girl has said that to me...
4) Well, size matters.
*******************
Yesterday I waited on a table of two black men. If you're not familiar with black men, they will generally say anything they want to you and not think twice about it. I also find them to be much more vocally homophobic, if only in my experience. Case in point: the guy on the right wanted a margarita, but demanded that I serve it to him in a plastic coke glass with no salt because he did not want, and I quote, "a faggish glass." Having a margarita glass in front of him evidently would have left the door wide open for others to assume he's gay...which would, of course, make it true. The same man would later point out that his friend's mashed potatoes were unacceptable because his friend (who was eating chicken) was a vegetarian, and there was ham in the potatoes. I assumed he was joking, but when I learned that in fact he was serious (his friend was becoming vegetarian in "stages"), I had to explain that what he saw was not ham (which we don't have), but the red potato skins in the "Garlic Redskin Mashed Potatoes". We don't call them that because the founder of the restaurant is Native American, genius. The same table later asked me what I wanted for a tip. I told them $1,000.
***********
A month or so ago, I got a table of pipeliners. 3 of them were from Southern Missouri, and one was from Arkansas. The ones from Missouri made fun of the guy from Arkansas, despite the fact that rural Missouri is home to the dumbest and ugliest people anywhere on earth. Also, the one from Arkansas was the only one with a scrap of class. They looked like stupid white trash, and acted accordingly. They all ordered alcohol, but one didn't have his ID so I wouldn't serve him a Long Island Iced Tea. After giving me a good 5 minutes worth of harassment, including logically flawed scenarios in which they "Went to the truck to (insert air quotes) 'get his ID'" or if one guy slid his ID to the other, they angrily ordered salads with "A fuckin' shitload of ranch and bacon bits." I had to personally make all 4 of the salads, and was sent back twice for more ranch and bacon. While I was gone, they spent their time making lewd comments to the hostesses. Included in this were "Damn, look at the ass on that." and "Shit baby, I wish I could see through them jeans."
If it were up to me, I'd stop serving them then and there and tell them to get the fuck out and never come back if they're going to talk to the girls like that. As it was, our front-of-house manager (Useless) that night was a former Hooters waitress, so she of course talked a lot of shit about what she'd do to them if they talked to her like that, and then ate it up when they did talk to her like that.
Useless: How does the food look tonight guys?
Supid Hick: Not as good as you look. (Side note: she's not that cute)
Useless: (Giggling) You guys are being ornery tonight!
Bitch, please. If you're going to be an attention-seeking, spineless skankbox, then you deserve to be talked to like that. As my co-worker $3 Bill once told her, "If you weren't engaged, you would be such a hoe..."
The one dumb hick sitting closest to me took it upon himself to try to mess with me once I wouldn't serve his dumb hick buddy the Long Island, but sadly he wasn't properly armed to battle wits with me. On one occasion, he asked me for "a side of ass" with his meal. I told him we were fresh out of ass, and that if they'd come in a half hour sooner we'd have had some.
After they had paid out and given me a shitty tip apiece, the spokesman stood up and got a big, stupid grin on his face. Clearly he had what he thought was a great idea. He asked his next question very loudly, so that he might offend everyone in my section and thus hopefully upset me.
Dumb Hick: Hey, you know where the whorehouse is at around here?
Beav: Nope, sorry man. Can't help ya there.
He eyes me for a second, and grins even bigger. Now he's clearly got something *clever* to use on me.
Dumb Hick: You know where the gay whorehouse is?
Beav: Nope, sorry. Can't help you there either. Have a good one...
I somehow didn't laugh in his face for coining the phrase "gay whorehouse". Also amusing was the idea that I'd be such a stupid, insecure homophobe that the insinuation that I might know where the "gay whorehouse" was would get me furious. Moronic guys always think they can get somebody riled by calling them gay or making some other comment to that effect. This doesn't bother me in the least, because I know that I can't be *made gay* by the declaration of one irritated yokel. The thought of giving him a full-on kiss as a response to his last comment crossed my mind, but I figured he might be so horrified that he'd come in and murder me with the 12-gauge he undoubtedly had in his truck.
Among the things I wanted to say to this guy:
1) Sorry, I don't know where the whorehouse is, since I don't have to pay to get laid because I'm not a toothless, needle-dicked, hillbilly dipshit like you. Maybe if you weren't a functionally retarded douche you could get a girl.
2) Gay whorehouse? Alright, just give up before you hurt your brain.
3) You know, I could just tell as soon as you sat down that you'd wanna know where to get some dick around here.
4) No, but your mom does.
As it was I let them walk out and go back to South Bumblefuck, Missouri. The running joke around work for the next week or so was to ask people if they knew where the "gay whorehouse" was if they were annoying you.
Look for more updates to this post the longer I continue to work and interact with morons.
posted by Beav at 2:35 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home