Happy Birthday, A**hole!

On Fridays, I do doubles. So, I open the restaurant at 10:45 am and find out I’m also the closer. We close at midnight. I do three doubles a week, so I’m used to it.

I get a six-top of women at nine pm, several of them wearing attire representing a particular political figure. I get them all cocktails, appetizers, entrees, and more drinks all without a hitch. One of the ladies stops me at my point-of-sale station and asks if we do anything special for birthdays. We don’t, but I offer dessert and she orders fried Oreos and ice cream.

I rummage around the kitchen and find birthday candles and light them and deliver the desserts to the table with happy birthday wishes along with plates and spoons. I go by a few minutes later to see if they need more drinks when one of the women aggressively shows me a dessert plate that has a teeny-tiny speck of food on it. Granted, it does look less than clean, and I profusely apologize and let them know I’ll bring a clean plate. She really tears into me.

Woman: “This is appalling. This is the worst dining experience we’ve ever had! I need to see your manager.”

I get my manager and she goes over for more abuse. She comps an entree and the dessert. I drop the bill off, explain the discount, and offer my sincerest apologies. They stick around for another hour or so and then they all head out the front door.

Me: “Thanks for coming in. Goodnight!”

Woman: *Shouting* “You c***!”

And she left. I went to pick up the bill and, of course, they’d stiffed me — no tip on a $200 tab. Wow. Here’s the thing industry people don’t know. If you stiff me, I still have to tip out the bar, the hostess, the expo, and the busser, and I make less than minimum wage.

To all my industry peeps: stay safe and keep your head up. I love you and appreciate all you do!