It was a busy night at the club with a lot of people all showing up at once for a 7:00 show. Most of them did not get there at at 6:30 as we suggest. I was training someone last night so my regular routine was talking a bit longer than normal since I was having to explain how to do everything rather than just do it. (I won't even get into the fact that when I got my first restaurant job this trainee wasn't even born yet. If I let myself dwell on that, I will take the apron from around my waist and strangle myself with it.) I could see out of the corner of my eye that table 42 had been sat with a six top and I slowly was making my way to that side of the room to get their drink order. When I got to them, the lady was visibly upset.
"How are we supposed to have a two-drink minimum through the course of the show when we have already been sitting here for thirty minutes without anyone taking our first order?" she snorted.
I inhaled deeply and counted to one. With a smile on my face, I said, "I don't think you've been sitting here for thirty minutes."
"Yes, we have and no one has been to us yet."
"No ma'am, you haven't."
"Yes, thirty minutes."
Clearly I was going to have to set this lady straight by stuffing a stop watch up her mop twat. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 7:02. We didn't open the house until 6:40. The section this tardy bitch was in is sat last because it's at the back of the room meaning they got there too late to be seated anywhere else. I cleared my throat. "The first person was sat twenty-two minutes ago when we opened the house. I know that you were not the first person sat, therefore it is impossible that you have been sitting here for thirty minutes."
"Well, we have been at the club for thirty minutes, then."
That's different. If you're in the bathroom I am not going to crawl into the stall and ask you if you want your fucking white zinfandel with ice or not. If you're in the lobby, I'm not going to walk out there and randomly ask people what they want to drink on the off chance that they might end up in my station. She had been sitting at the table for about twelve minutes. "Well, I'm here now and the show hasn't started yet and you still have a two-drink minimum. The show is an hour and fifteen minutes long, so I think you will be fine. What would you like to drink?"
She ordered a Cosmo and told me she wanted it for her second round too. I brought her drink about four minutes later and then about ten minutes after that I took out her second Cosmo just so she could have plenty of fucking time to drink it since she was so concerned about it. You know what, lady? If you have such an issue with the time, maybe you should invest in a watch and then use it. Don't show up at 6:50 when we advise you to get there at 6:30. And don't exaggerate to prove your point. I bet she also says shit like:
- "The mall was so crowded; everyone in the world was there." No, 6.94 billion people were not shopping at Chico's.
- "Can you turn up the air conditioning in here? It's so hot, my blood is boiling." No, your blood is not boiling, that's impossible. Zombie bitches who shop at Chico's don't have blood.
- "Aren't these earrings the cutest things in the world?" No, they are not. Nothing in the world is cuter than a monkey wearing a hat while riding a goat.
- I haven't had sex since the Dark Ages." Okay, I'll give her that one.
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