Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Your Boyfriend is a Cheap Fuck!

Yes, sometimes I go on dates. Not a lot recently, but last year I swallowed the last of my dignity and joined Match.com. That's another story altogether. Anyway, when I do go on a date, I always offer to pay my half of dinner just because I'm an independant bitch and all. (Of course, if he agrees, there is no second date just because I'm Southern and I guess that kinda stuff is (in)breed in me and all). But I digress. The point is, my ass will always, always, always sneak and see what he tiped. Because that says a lot about a person. You ain't gotta be rich, just don't be cheap. Also if he is a prick to the server, no goodies for him.
There is a cute little girl that comes into the place I work. Early 20's, really sweet and from what I hear, is actually a decent tipper when she is by herself. But her boyfriend. That is a whole other story. First of all he's about 20 years older than her. Not that I have a problem with that (I ain't sayin' she's a golddigger, she actually seems to care about this douche). But this fucker is cheap. 10% if you're lucky. So by association, I guess that means she sucks too. And the thing is, we all know this guy has money. He drives this huge ass truck that probally cost much more than the penile implant it is trying to compensate for. They come in a few times a month and when we see them walk in, all the servers run to the hostesses, The Anoriexic Toddler or Asperger's Annie (more about them in later posts) and begs to not have them seated in their sections.
It almost makes me embarrassed for this poor girl. But not really. Bitch, have to you not one time ever noticed that he leaves shit for tips and that we are all beyond the point to being nice to him anymore? I guess its hard to see anything over the huge ass rock you pressured his ass into buying you. Do you not realize that we all talk shit about you? But then again why should you care. It's not like you have to work or anything to take care of yourself or anything.
About six or seven months ago, they were on a "break" or some shit. I don't know the whole story. But I saw her out and she was all, "blah, blah, blah, I miss him, I love him, blahfucking blah." I still regret not being drunk enough to tell her that he is a cheap fuck and everyone hates his ass. I mean, what are Facebook Friends for, right? But I kept my mouth shut because everyone knows if you talk shit about someone's ex and then they get back together, you become that bitch that talked shit about her boyfriend. And, of course, she got back with him and began sporting the big ass rock (I guess that worked things out). They come in all the time and he still sucks. So I guess she still sucks too.
But I see it all the time. Couple comes in. Guy tips for shit and dumbass girl leaves hand and hand with him most likely to go home and contract a STD from his cheap ass. I feel no pity for these girls. Shame on you bitch! Buying you a nice steak dinner to get into your pants is an asshole thing to do if he fucks his server too.
Ladies, take a peek at the credit card receipt. He if gets offended, fuck him. How he treats the waitstaff (with his actions or his wallet) will tell you everything you will ever need to know about a person.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Sundays and God's Chosen.

I think there is a God. Why do I think this? Because my place of employment is CLOSED on Sunday. Sundays are mine to reflect on life and watch movies on Netflix. Therefore, I don't really have to worry about going in and dealing with the dreaded "church people". I used to be one of those "church people". When I was 18 and sweet and unjaded, I actually thought I might want to go into the ministy. Then I attended a Baptist college. I waited tables during school and the day I graduated, I was thrown behind the bar. Not because I knew a single thing about drinking or drinkers, but because I big boobs and was a cute blonde my fate was pretty much sealed. Actually by the time I graduated, I was pretty much over the Christain thing anyway. I saw a lot of shady shit go down at that particular Christain college and didn't like what I saw. People in the resturant biz are way cooler, the most unjudgemental people you will ever meet in your life and doesn't mention that you can't wear white to your wedding if you are not "pure", whatever the hell that means.
 The Christain crowd is pretty much the most hyprocritcal bunch of fuckers you will ever meet in your life (not all of them, but enough to leave a bad taste in my mouth). Oh, and they tip for shit. But we all knew that.
I still do have to deal with them from time to time. A few nights ago, I was on a floor shift when a group came in with their Pastor. First things out of their mouths: Two people here have birthdays this week. What do we get for free? Me: Happy Birthday, what do you want to drink? Church people: Well what do you do for birthdays? Sing? Me: I just told you Happy Birthday, that's about it. And I would rather give myself a papspear with a set of rusty car keys than sing to your overgrown asses. Grow the fuck up.
I finally offered them a free dessert just to shut them the fuck up. But we happened to out of chocolate cake that night. Pastorman then proceded to lose his religion. And his shit. He pouted like a four year old that we didn't have his favorite dessert and made me go to the back to make sure. Yes, fucker, I am sure. He was pretty pissed that the thing he wanted FOR FREE was not avaliable for him to stuff his fat, bloated face with. How about I bring you a piece of bread and maybe Jesus could turn it into chocolate cake for you? Or maybe you could just grow the fuck up. Whatever is easiest. They were not amused.
Anyway, I grat'ed them (speaking of God, I thank Him for auto grats). But they sat and sat and sat like they were waiting for the return of Jesus himself. I finally stopped refilling their coffees and went out back for a smoke, hoping they could smell it on me when I returned. Then they left and I had a beer.
But fortunally, I don't have to deal with this particular breed of asshole too often. Praise Jesus. To my fellow peeps who are out in the trenches on this most holy of day, my prayers go out to you.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Bitches be pissin' me off

To the self-entitled stuck-up cunt fugly bitches that sat in my section tonight,
It really was a pleasure to wait on you stepford wife whores tonight but was it really necesarry to act like you are so much better than me, a lowly waitress working her way through grad school? I know how exciting it was to celebrate you birthday by coming into my place of work and drinking cosmos (just like the Sex and the City girls!!!) but acting like your shit doesn't stink and completely ignoring me when I ask if there is anything else I can get you is just rude and classless. But the icing on the fuck you cake was when I had to gall to compilment your purse and ask where you got it at. "Don't even ask." was your reply. Infering that I could never afford such a luxury item. Bitch, the only reason I asked is because I saw one just like it at TJ Maxx you label-whore twat. But really opening your gifts really was a pleasure to see. Your bitch friends got you underwear from Victoria's Secret. How fun!!! It was it really appropriate to showcase them in the middle of a upscale steak house. We all know your husband is fucking everyone in this town (yes bitch, we know him) so perhaps you can wear it for him while you blow him and he thinks about his girlfriend that he ass fucked earlier that day. Imagine my complete surprise when your goddam debit card got declined (and no bitch, there is nothing wrong with the computer.), . You stupid bitch. You don't even have friends that like you enough to buy you dinner on your birthday, not that they are any less annoying than you. So you had to pay with cash. And yes i do admit by this point you bitches had gotton the best on me and i was on the verge of tears, I brought you back the wrong change. When you then got all pissy and told me to 'Get my shit together" was when you came closer than you can ever imagine to getting the absolute fuck knocked out of you. Seriously bitch, you really are lucky that I had already removed all of the silver wear from you table because i have never wanted to stab someone with a butterknife in the forehead more at that moment. You were an insufferable bitch (all of you) and the only happiness I found tonight was in knowing that you fat lawyer husbands were fucking around on you during you fun little girls night out

This is the shit I deal with

I've been a bartender a long time and I am good at it. But people that sit at my bar everyday, you are starting to seriously piss me the fuck off.
First of all why the fuck are you sitting at my bar before I even walk in the door. How the fuck did you even get in? I haven't even clocked in yet and there you are sitting there looking at me with your glassy eyes wanting a fucking draft beer. You really need a fucking life.
Also, if you come in please stop fucking talking to whoever the hell your with or get off your goddam phone and order already. I really do not have all day to wait for you. I will most likey walk off and if I do dont get all pissy because I'm not back the minute you are ready to order. Dude, you are rude.
Do not sit your ass at my bar and order a sweet tea. You are a pain in my ass.Do you see a tea urn sitting on the goddam bar? No, I have to walk my ass back to the kicthen and get it for you because you suck. Order a Newcastle or something. And also, don't bring your fucking kid with you to my bar. What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you really that much of a drunk? Get yourself and your kid out of my bar before I call child services.And to my precious bar regualrs: we are not friends. I really don't even like most of you. I don't give a shit about what you have to say. Don't think for one minute because you are a regular that you can leave a shitty tip. I wouldn't even show my face in a place that I left a shitty tip in, much less go there every goddam day. And why the hell are you here every fucking day anyway. Do you really not have that much to do? I don't want to look at you every fucking shift and no, we cannot be friends on Facebook.The thought of you makes me want to drown myself in the bathtub everyday before work.Speaking of which, when it is time to close, GETTHEFUCKOUT. Actually get out before then. I don't want to hang out with you. No, it's not "cool". I just have to tell you that or my manager will bitch at me. Unlike you, I have a life and I would like to go home. Also, stop staring at my tits. It's creepy.
And ladies, if I ask for your friends ID and not yours, please do not bring attention to it. It's pretty clear that you haven't seen 20 in a while. Don't make things awkard for me.
And I swear to God in Heaven, if one more of you fucker tell me to "make it a good one", I'm going to throw my fruit tray at your ass. Why the fuck would I hook you up if I don't know you. Tip me well, and we will see about the next one. Until then if you want a strong drink order a fucking double. And do not, do fucking not, sit at my bar for a hour and then move to a table and assume I will transfer the tab. You are an asshole