HIS SIDE OF THE STORYThe club was crazy tonight. We had a 7:00 show of student performers who brought in an audience of people who didn't know the first thing about seeing a cabaret show. We had reservations for 47 people so we only had two servers on the floor with no runner or busser, but then we had 35 walk-ins making it way too busy for just the two of us. And most of them ignored our request to get there at 6:30 so they would have time to get their drinks before the show starts. Everyone bum rushed the hostess stand at 6:55 meaning we were going to start the show late and everyone was going be slammed.
No one was happy with their seat because it is first come first serve so all these losers who got there two minutes before show time had to take the tables that are off to the side. Not my fault. I was immediately in the weeds because everyone got there so late. None of them were used to being in a cabaret setting so I had to constantly explain that we have a two-drink minimum and they all seemed shocked at the prices. It's new York City cabaret, people Wake up and smell the show tunes.
We tried to start the show on time but it meant that I was taking orders and serving drinks in the dark. It was not pleasant. And customers looked all pissed off that we were starting the show even though they were the ones who got there late. I didn't even have time to ring in my drinks so I was just calling them out to the bartender and he was making them as fast as he could. We really could have used a runner. If people would have made a reservation, we could have been staffed accordingly.
I was so far behind and constantly apologizing to people for the delay. My tray always had at least eight or nine drinks on it and people were grabbing at me and yelling out orders as I walked by expecting that I would just remember every single thing they asked for even though they saw my hands were full and I couldn't write anything down at that moment.
Table 36 yelled out to me that she wanted a cheese plate. I made a mental note to ring it in. They also wanted more drinks. While I was waiting for table 36's drinks, I continued to run drinks for the other 44 people I had in my station and every time I walked by 36 the lady gave me this look like "where's my drink??" I told her it would be right out and I was going as fast as I could. She got all pissed off and said "just bring me the drinks and the fucking cheese." I really did not like this lady. I wanted to punch her in the lady parts but feared that my arm would be lost amongst the FUPA thus prohibiting me from doing my job for the remainder of the evening.
I finally got the cheese plate to her and went back to the bar pick up the drinks. When I put her vodka/cran/orange juice down, she totally flipped out because she couldn't see any orange juice in it. I told her that I thought it did have orange juice or at least it should because it was just a reorder of the first drink which came out correctly.
"Well, I can see there ain't no orange juice in it!" she said way too loudly considering there was someone on the stage about ten feet away from her singing a very sweet song .
It took everything I had to not raise my voice at her. I offered to put some more orange juice in it but she said there wasn't any in there to begin with so how could I put in more? Semantics, bitch. Fucking semantics. I picked up the drink to fix it and went to the bar.
Well, guess who followed me. I could hear the "swish swish swish" of her thighs rubbing against her polyester pants. She came barreling at me yelling that I was disrespecting her and that I was rude. She told me that she works at Caroline's Comedy Club and she knows what good service should be. All I was thinking was if she was a server, then she should be a little more understanding that I am in the weeds and in the scope of things, it was just a splash of fucking orange juice we were arguing about.
"I'm 56 years old and you can't talk to me that way!" she screeched.
"Well, I'm 45 years old and here's your drink," I retorted.
I could tell that she was surprised at my age and that she thought I was probably about 27.
She stormed off back to her seat with her drink in hand, the "swish swish swish" growing fainter as she got farther away. There were people milling about the bar and one of the performers came up to me and said, "Just so you know, that is not my friend." The hostess walked over to me and informed me that the lady was just as rude to her when she first arrived.
I immediately voided the drinks from her check because I knew that she had waited longer than she should have for them and I did, in fact, screw up the second one. I wanted to make amends. I can admit when I make a mistake, which is something she apparently cannot do based on her haircut/wig and makeup choice.
When I gave her the check and tried to apologize she totally ignored me. "Sorry about the misunderstanding. I took your drinks off the check." Nothing from her except a turned head. What a bitch. "So, I took your drinks off your check," I repeated. She turned her head away from me even further, so far that I thought she was trying to smell the back of her own neck. "Okay.." I sighed.
She left right away, but I could tell that the two friends she was with were embarrassed for her behavior because they stuck around for a few minutes as if to distance themselves from the "crazy lady who made the scene during the poignant moment of the show." They paid the check and left me a decent tip which I am sure was a pity one. As for their friend, she'll probably threaten to never come back but in reality she probably only came in the first place because her friends were paying for it.
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