In Need Of A Wait-less Waitress

| Working | June 4, 2014

(My husband, his sister, and I have stopped in a local bar for some food and drinks. The place is perhaps 1/3 full. We wait for about 10 minutes before the waitress swings by.)

Waitress: “Sorry about the wait. We’re really busy. What can I get you to drink?”

(My husband orders a beer, I order a cherry [Soda], and his sister orders a margarita.)

Waitress: “All right. I’ll be back with those shortly.”

(20 minutes pass, and the waitress still has not brought us our drinks. She’s been alternately floating between the other tables and leaning against the bar with a cigarette. Finally, she brings our drinks and vanishes again without a word.)

Sister-In-Law: “This isn’t what I ordered… I wanted a margarita, not a beer.”

Me: “And I’m pretty sure this is diet [Soda], not cherry.”

(We flag down the waitress.)

Sister-In-Law: “I wanted a margarita.”

Me: “And are you sure this is cherry [Soda]? It tastes like diet.”

Waitress: “I dunno what soda that is. I can’t remember what fountain I used.”

(This raises some brows at our table; I’d watched her pour the drink less than a minute ago. The waitress comes back with our drinks, correct this time.)

Husband: “Can we order? I think we’re all ready to eat—”

Waitress: “NO.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Waitress: “You can’t order now. I have, like, two tables in front of you. I’m really busy. You’ll have to wait.”

(She leaves without another word. I watch her walk to the table next to us and take their order… writing it down on the cardboard backside of her notepad instead of the order slips.)

Sister-In-Law: “I’m starving.”

Me: “Me, too. I can’t believe she wouldn’t take our order! Isn’t that what the notepad is for?”

(We spend the next 15 minutes trying to flag down the waitress, who eventually disappears into the back room. By this time, we are all so hungry that we’ve gotten irritable, and we’ve decided to go to the Mexican restaurant across the street. There’s only one other employee that I can see working behind the bar.)

Me: “Excuse me? I need—”

Bartender: *walks off*

(I stare in disbelief, and then wait another five minutes standing at the bar until she returns.)

Bartender: “What do you want?”

Me: “We’ve been waiting 45 minutes and haven’t even ordered yet. We’d like to pay our bill and leave.”

Bartender: “I can’t do that for you. You’ll need your waitress.”

Me: “Where is she?”

Bartender: “I dunno.”

Me: “Can you get her for me, please?”

(The bartender vanishes into the back room. As the door swings open, I catch a clear glimpse of our waitress, leaning against a wall with another cigarette in her hand. Five minutes pass, and suddenly I see our waitress walk briskly to my husband, mutter something, and walk off without another word.)

My Husband: “Let’s go.”

Me: “But the bill?”

Husband: “The waitress just said we don’t have to pay for our drinks.”

Sister-In-Law: “What?”

Husband: “She apparently doesn’t want to deal with it.”

(We went to the Mexican restaurant instead. We were seated and had dinner on our table within 15 minutes. We haven’t been back to that bar since!)

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