Sunday, April 27, 2008

An open letter to bad tippers.

Tonight I had the worst kind of bad tipper. The totally unjustified one. They weren't barely legal. They weren't white trash. They weren't even foreign. They just suck at being human beings.

This family could not have HAD better service. Tasters of beer were brought out. Straws for the kiddies. Appetizers before main course. Frequent check backs and refills. The mom even added bacon to her burger and had therefore won a special place in my heart.

I oozed charm and geniality. I even remembered to-go boxes and water on the first go. That does not happen.

Imagine my surprise to find a $4.75 tip on a $42 meal. I was hurt. Shocked. Then pissed. Angry. I marched back into the walk-in cooler to throw shit and yell about how much I hate my restaurant and its clientele. Then I knocked back a couple tasters of my favorite beer in the dish pit.

And all was well again. The restaurant business is a harsh mistress that practically begs its employees to become bi-polar.

I know I'm close.

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