Don't you hate it when you go to a restaurant during the lunch rush, and the waitress is immediately all over you. Like, the hostess has just set your menus down, your pulling out your chair and the waitress is already saying "what can i get you to drink?"... Suddenly, i know how this lunch is going to be. They want you to hurry the fuck up, they wanna get your $24.95, and get the next fat asses in those chairs. A perfect world for these over ambitious servers would be you saying "Um, I'll take a water with lemon, a tortilla chip, and the check!" and then they sprint to the POS register to key-in your bill.
Calm down. Please. I'm going to choke to death on my chili con queso and make a scene. Then I'll be in my chair for a considerable amount longer, prompting you to forgo all of the dough you'd have made on table 13 today. You thought it was going to be great because you're working with Christi the hostess today and she hooks you up. "Have you guys decided yet?". NO!
I'm a good customer too. If there's a wait, and I have to go get a drink at the bar, I will always close the tab so the bartender doesn't get fucked. I'm not the type who when my table is ready, would say "Can you transfer that to my table?". That's not fair, and I don't do that. Therefore, I'd like a millisecond to decide what I'm going to eat.
I also get annoyed by those servers who are asking you every 2 minutes if you need anything. It's not like everything has gone awry in 90 seconds. I don't foresee the following happening. "Is everything ok?". "Yes, it's fine. Thank you." Waitress walks away, and the burger falls apart and into your lap. Your date spills a glass and knocks your plate over while packets of Splenda explode and you stab yourself in the eye with your fork. Not too likely. I've devised a way to thwart this. Just ask for something everytime they come over. "Can I get some ketchup?" "Can I get some mustard?" "Can I get some more napkins?" "Can I get some bread covered with powdered soap flakes, toasted, with somebody to help me chew it up because i have bad teeth, with a little Gheghis Kahn trading card and VHS version of the film 'Witness' starring Harrison Ford and Lucas Hass...?"
"Can I get the check?"
And then it's like a bolt of lightening to the register. She's thinking "Oh holy fucking shit! Table 13 has FINALLY finished their meal. I mean, it only took like 12 minutes!!! Don't they know this is Chili's, where lunchtime minutes are like flakes of gold and money...Don't they?"
I'm always tempted to sit there after the little book has been brought out for me to sign. Just chew some ice cubes. Stretch. Look around for the waitress seething with anger. I don't really do it. And I always still tip well. Still, if i'm taking 30 seconds to say goodbye to my ailing greandmother, just chill. Don't come take the check folder thing away, thus completing our little lunch interaction. I want to be out of there when you see the tip. When you see the little present I left. It's always at least 20%. But don't look before I leave. It's like opening your birthday presents before the party.
But anyways. I was good today too. Where's my tip?
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