I leave no tip for a lousy server

The other night, Jenn and I went for dinner at a pub. We walked in, the early 20-something girls behind the bar looked at us but said nothing so I asked if we seat ourselves, to which they replied in the affirmative. So we sat down and waited. Took a long time but our pretty server eventually came over and took our drink orders. When she came back with those we said we’d like to start with an order of very saucy, messy wings. For sure, no worries, she said. We waited way too long but finally the wings came. She dropped them off on one plate, with no plates for the bones, and most notably, no napkins. We kept waiting for her to come back with those but she never did. Never even walked by because she was busy sitting at another table with her friends, playing on her phone. Eventually I went to the bathroom and grabbed some paper towels to use as napkins. Just as I got back with those, she finally walked by the table so Jenn asked for napkins. “For sure, no worries.” When she came back with those she saw the paper towels I had grabbed and didn’t acknowledge them, no sorry or anything. She tried to run back to her friends and their table but we said we now wanted to order the rest of our meal. “For sure, no worries.” We ordered, and waited. And waited and waited and waited while she sat with her friends. At long last the calamari and nachos arrived, but sans cutlery for the calamari. Took a while and yet another “for sure, no worries” (as if she was doing us a favour by bringing us the basic fucking utensils required to eat this food) but we eventually got forks. We asked for more tzatziki for the calamari, she never brought it but she did charge us $1.50 for it.

You can imagine how peeved I was by all of this. I had been mulling over giving her a $1 or $2 tip — something insulting that says “you sucked” but at least isn’t absolutely nothing — but the fork and tzatziki stuff pushed me over the edge. How can you you serve food to people but neglect to give them the means to eat that food? And how can you charge for something you fail to provide? It’s unconscionable to me. So we asked for the bill, she came by with the machine, and I entered zero for tip while she was off giving more lip service to some other poor bastards in there that night. She came back, said thanks, and stared at the numbers on the machine for a few uncomfortable seconds before storming off without saying a word. It felt very, very good.

Epilogue: Jenn went to the bathroom while I walked out to the truck which was parked behind the pub. As I approached the truck I noticed a guy smoking by a door to the kitchen. I asked if he was kitchen staff, he said yup. I said our server was fucking terrible but the food was good and I didn’t want the kitchen staff to be stiffed on her account so I gave him $10. He was a little weirded out but appreciative, then asked which server it was. I said I didn’t want to single her out but he asked if it was the blond one and said she gets some complaints about her attitude so I admitted yup, it was the blond one. I said it wasn’t so much the attitude as it was just zero service but reiterated that the food was good (the wings are legitimately among the best I’ve ever had, and it makes me sad that I may not be able to go back for them for a very long time) and the guy was chill and grateful, and it was a funny, happy ending to the whole thing.

romeo’s wedding anniversary dinner

We went to Romeo’s for our anniversary dinner. Love that place, it delivered like it always does. The calamari is consistently the best we have at any restaurant. Tonight I said that Romeo’s calamari is like the UFC champion who defends their title 9 times in a row, in that it’s an incredible streak that really defies the odds. There was an obese old couple in the booth behind Jenn that I watched, the woman wore an XXXL plain yellow t-shirt. Looked like a smock, or a mumu. She was eating spaghetti and rather than wrap it around her fork or cut it into bite-sized pieces, she shoveled as much as she could into each mouthful and then worked her old mouth to cut off whatever hadn’t fit inside her gaping maw. I assume her husband sitting across her was used to this sight but I couldn’t fathom ever being ok with such a horror show. Behind me were three men from AA, talking heatedly about addiction and Christ. One was 30-something and seemed to think he had life figured out and was happy to wow the other two about his brilliant observations and conclusions. His foil, a business-looking guy in his 50’s, was an emotional fella who couldn’t stop his voice from getting higher and higher as he grew increasingly worked up about the inexpressible perfection of Christ. There was a third less interesting, more level-headed guy who seemed like their sponsor. He kept the peace well, was a voice of reason when the other two got too heated. There was a family of 10 at another long table, they were boring and average. Our server was a large bearded man with tattoos who looked about 40 but he was really nervous and sweet, like a kid who is new at their job and wants to do well. I imagine he shares a filthy apartment with several other adult children but I liked him as our server.

Went to Superstore afterwards for the old anniversary grocery shop, haha. Jenn was on cloud 9. Man, I love grocery shopping late at night or early in the morning. It’s so nice to not have to contend with crowds (although I find the seniors in the morning irritating — why do they always look so fucking scared of everything? And is this the only thing they are going to do all day, besides check the mail box about 80 times? Probably.) Saw a girl wearing the kind of shorts most girls wear now, with her ass hanging out. I liked it until I saw her grotesque face. Lady in front of us in line at the cashier couldn’t figure out how to make her bank card work, the dimwit. I joked on the drive out of the parking lot that we should stop at Chances (the local casino) for some quick gambling. Put on the turn indicator and slowed down, Jenn got furious. So much of relationships is just pushing your partner’s buttons. Happy anniversary, babe.

a little humility goes a long way

A few nights ago, Jenn and I went to Romeo’s in Duncan for dinner. It’s a crappy family restaurant but we love it. It’s still got a bit of the old redneck Duncan charm, the food is fantastic, and the service has always been great for us.

When we went the other night, our server was a weird-looking individual but really genuine and easygoing. They struggled a bit with taking our order and had to go check on stuff a few times because they weren’t sure of what they had and didn’t have. They apologized and admitted they were new there, and were so pleasant about it all that it wasn’t annoying in the slightest. It actually made me kind of root for them, like I wanted them to succeed because they were so likeable and humble. It was just another great dining experience at Romeo’s.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the spectrum, I have a coworker who was bugging me yesterday about some annoying shit. This coworker was acting like they know everything and have it all figured out, when they actually suck at the job and have an inferiority complex that makes them talk like this to everyone, and that’s why no one likes them.

I was just thinking about how much I liked the humble person who had no problem admitting their shortcomings and was working on getting better, and how much I dislike the arrogant one who can’t admit their shortcomings and compensates by acting like a dink. It just goes to show how far a little humility goes. That’s not a newsflash or anything but the back-to-back experiences just made for a stark contrast to me.

Btw, Romeo’s consistently has the best calamari we have tried, and we have tried a lot of calamari, even at upscale places. And fun fact: back in the 70’s there was a disco club upstairs from Romeo’s and it was called Juliette’s. I have some older friends who used to go there back then. Man, I wish I saw that — a disco night club in Duncan. Wow.