:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

Thoughts, observations, and introspections from an art student waiter/bartender in South Beach. Arcane humor ensues.
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:: Thursday, January 25, 2007 ::

:: Server Stories: Part XIX - Sometimes, I'm the Asshole ::
I was working behind the bar during a lunch shift after an evening where a group of English douchbags tested my patience to the point where if not for managerial intervention, I might have taken a swing at a guy (the nice thing about my restaurant is that the people in charge are aware that screwups aren't always the fault of the staff). You can imagine my mood after that ordeal and having to come in immediately the next morning. 99% of the time, I'm able to conceal my mood and put on a smile, regardless of whether I want to be there.

It's a slow shift so far when an English couple sit at my bar and ask for two beers. (Just so you know. I don't actually hate the English. Really.)

"Sure," I reply and I get them their drinks and a couple of menus.

"No thanks, we're just thirsty. How much will it be?"

I hand over the bill with a smile and tend to another customer. When I come back, find a $100 bill in the check presenter.

For a $12.48 bill.

So really, they needed change and since the convenience store wouldn't do it, they come to my bar thinking they could swindle some smaller bills from the idiot bartender. (Or maybe they just forgot. I don't know. My caffeine hadn't kicked in yet so I could have been a little cranky.) Either way, getting their change would require me to empty out my drawer.

Whatever, I get them their change, say "thank you" and see how the other two at the bar are doing. When I return, they're gone. I open the book to grab my tip and they left... 55 cents. Are you fucking kidding me?!?

Anyone who's ever been to a bar knows the standard etiquette is a dollar a drink, at least. Even one dollar would have been fine but, no. And now I have a near-empty drawer and 55 cents for my trouble. "Let it go" I say to myself and I pick up their bottles when I see a pair of keys there. It's to their rental car, with the key fob, a tag, and an extra set. I pocket them.

Later that night, they're back, looking rather distraught, searching for their lost keys. They spot me, and ask if I found anything. And I reply, looking right in their eyes and say "I didn't see anything." When in fact, I had them right in my apron.

They leave in a huff, and I feel a smirk on my face.

As for the keys, I toss them in the garbage before I leave. I could have done the right thing but the way the last couple of weeks have been, kharma owes me. And I haven't been sleeping well anyway.

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:02 AM [+] :: | 0 comments

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