PASSING THE BUCK
When I used to work at a downtown European restaurant, great doom and gloom would come over servers when they had to take immigrants of a lesser eastern european country (which will remain nameless).
They THOUGHT they were Czech, Ukranian or Hungarian, but not a chance (I’m not even talking Romanian or Transylvanian).
In fact it got so bad, the owner would pay us to wait on them.
“Just do it, give them whatever, then send them away.”
Then the ultimate happened. They sat in my section at my latest franchise employer.
The same disposition; picky, bitchy, idiotic, and ordering food prepared like a caveman would, and pissed off because it tastes like shit.
They stiffed me. Just like they did sooooooo many fucking times at my other establishment.
But I GAVE THEM a second chance – sorta.
They came back, so I convinced another server to take them, but I schooled him on them and what to do. He charmed their asses off, he got all of their food right (without even hinting to them I was coaching him all along the way).
They were so impressed they got out their goat ass smelling phones and called their parents and told them to request him.
Of course, at the end of the day, as a server we care about two things, happy patrons and getting paid.
They tipped him 5%. As I expected from the goat farmers.
So I asked him, “Do you hate me?”
“No.” He said, “Your stories make it worth it.”
S. L. Ehrisman (c) 3/19/11