Everyone who works in a restaurant has had campers before (diners who stay at their table for a while after paying), and that can be especially frustrating on a Friday night where you have a limited amount of tables. However, tonight I was feeling laid back and trying not to walk too much as I have a sprained toe, so I have only three tables when I usually have five. I was not worried because my foot is swollen; this weekend was going to suck regardless.

Out of my three tables, I had two women sit from 6:30 to 9:00, and I believed they cashed out around 7:15 with a $40 check. I returned their change and new receipt; they tipped well. I was totally not stressed about it because I didn’t want to walk on my swollen and sore injured foot and they did tip well. I did offer more water after they cashed out and they said they were fine. I got cut around 9:00 and started helping my closing bartender.

The busser came over to me and handed me $50.

Me: “Where is this from?”

I had two open tables where $50 wouldn’t make sense.

Busser: “It’s from table [number], and they just left.”

These ladies paid me double to sit at the table and I’m grateful. I could have lost the chance to make money on that table but instead, I got extra money that I don’t have to tip out on.

Ladies, you know what’s up and I appreciate what you did.

I’m at a small, hole-in-the-wall barbecue place; it’s not anything to look at, but the food is excellent. The owner, who’s run the place for decades after inheriting it from his father, cooks only so much meat every day. He then opens up at 10:30, sells until he runs out, and then shuts down for the day, usually by 1:00 p.m.

On this particular day, there’s a substantial line waiting to order. Just after noon, the phone rings. The owner pauses from serving to answer the phone, and we just hear his side of the conversation.

Owner: “Hello?” *Pauses* “Where?” *Pauses* “No, sorry, we’re almost out.” *Pauses* “No, sorry.” 

And he hangs up. Those of us in line are a little worried. He’s almost sold out of food?

Owner: *To us* “Don’t worry, folks. I’ve got plenty left. That guy was all the way over by [Local Mall twenty minutes away]. He’s got lots of places he can eat over there.”

Back in my high school days, when my friends and I were sixteen to eighteen, we went to a tiny diner out of town. All of us worked in the service industry so we would tip pretty decently. I think the bill came to around $80, and I just put in a $100 in the bill book and we left.

After we got in the car and drove a few miles, my friend asked if we thought it was enough that she only tipped our waitress $15. I expressed that I’d tipped her about $20 already, after which my other friend chimed in that she’d left a twenty on the table. We laughed it off and said we probably made her day with the over 65% tip.

Three years later, we were passing through that town and we decided to stop by that same diner. Lo and behold, the waitress was there and she remembered us! She mentioned that she was lowkey confused at the amount of cash left after the tip my friend handed to her but was grateful as it helped her buy her son a birthday present. It’s just amazing how she remembered after three years.

We have about eight tables waiting, and I am bringing in a three-top to sit at one of our high-top tables, just as a lady and her friend are sitting down. This lady comes in frequently, usually by herself, and she’s just annoying.

Me: “I’m sorry, we are on a wait. I’m seating these folks, but I can put you on the list.”

I walk away for no more than a minute and come back.

Regular: “We know them! Can you add a couple of chairs for us?”

Me: *Looking around* “There are no open chairs or bar stools; every single one is taken right now.”

Regular: “What about next door? Can you take a couple from there? And why are they so busy?”

We have a separate bar next door that handles the people waiting and has TVs for games, etc.

Me: “No, we are at capacity due to [health crisis] restrictions, and they are so busy because there are eight parties waiting for tables!”

I admit I’m bulls***ting about the restrictions a little.

Next, the regular starts putting her coat and bag on a bar chair that just opened up, and my bartender tells her she needs to move it because we are going to seat some people there who have been WAITING.

Regular: *To me* “Gosh, I come here all the time. I just didn’t know what was going on. Wow, I just thought we could find a place to sit.”

I finally get her and her friend next door, and then I go back and take the order for the three-top that she had originally tried to join.

Customer: “Thank you so much for taking care of that! We barely know her. I worked with her like ten years ago, and it was really weird that she tried to join us.”

This happens on Mother’s Day years and years ago. I have two large tables; one holds fifteen and the other holds twelve.

The twelve-top is seated. I take their drink order and go in the back to get it. They decide they like the fifteen-top table in my section better, get up, and move there. A hostess comes up with the fifteen-top that was meant to sit at that table. She’s confused and comes to find me. I approach the table.

Me: “I’m sorry but we’re going to need your party to move back to your original table. This is set for fifteen people and you have twelve.”

Customer #1: “Yeah, we were way too squished there. We like this better.”

I point to the party of fifteen waiting.

Me: “This table is set for them. They have fifteen. You will need to move back.”

A woman from the fifteen-top approaches.

Customer #2: “This is our table. We have fifteen! You heard her; move back to your table.”

Customer #1: “No. It’s Mother’s Day and I want my mother to have the best table.”

Customer #2: “Oh, and my mother doesn’t deserve to have a nice table?”

They start to argue loudly. The manager shows up and tells the twelve-top they need to move. They refuse and start to call him names, like children.

Customer #1: “You need to shut the f*** up and do as you’re told!”

The manager gives her a look like, “Oh, really?”

Manager: “That’s it. You need to leave.”

The table erupts as they start yelling, but nobody gets up. The manager takes me aside.

Manager: “Do not serve them. Let them sit. If they don’t leave, we’ll call the police.”

The fifteen-top finds another home. The hostess sits the empty twelve-top with another group, so I put my energy into them. [Customer #1] waves at me as I pass by but I don’t stop.

Customer #1: “God d*** it, she’s ignoring us!”

The manager goes by again.

Manager: “You have five minutes to leave or I’m calling the police.”

The fight between them was ugly and everyone was watching. [Customer #1] and another man with her got in the manager’s face, but he kept his cool. Finally, they gave up and exited the restaurant.

As they left, I couldn’t help but notice the little old woman with them, probably [Customer #1]’s mother. She was all dressed up with her hair done up, and she was probably starving. She hadn’t spoken a word during the chaos, and her entire day was ruined because of her daughter’s selfish actions. I just don’t understand people sometimes.