First, I had the man who asks if we have draft beer, and when I say no, he continues to order a Miller Lt. Draft. I run off all the beers to him (none of which include Miller or Bud products of ANY kind), and he proceeds to ask for Coors Lt. Are you kidding?! READ THE FUCKING MENU!
Next, I have the table of "waters no ice" who order off of the vegetarian menu (which only has about six or seven items). When I deliver the food, they tell me that they didn't order what I put in front of them, "What did you order?" I say sweetly (knowing full well and good that they got what they asked for), they tell me, and I say, "Well, that's it! Enjoy!" I sent a manager over just to do a table visit, and he proceeded to tell them they got exactly what they ordered, but I still saw them fumbling through the menu looking for what they thought they had ordered. One of the women ordered a vegetarian item that is mostly a cheese dish (and is explained as such in the MOTHERFUCKING menu) and she tells me (after I've been to the table to check on them NUMEROUS times) that her dish has "too much cheese." That's what it IS you lunatic! That's what it says in the MENU! You know, that book you've been scrutinizing for an hour before ordering--you know, that thing will all the writing! Sorry about the lack of pictures! Stupid fucking bitches.
Finally, I have the skinny bitches who are sooo fucking starving that they have to order appetizers, salads, and an entree. All of our portions are huge, and we don't have such a thing as a side salad, so when I bring the salads, the women were adamant that the salads are NOT what they ordered. I tell them that they all of our salads are entree size (and it's listed with entree salads, so take the hint). The women looked at these salads like they were eating some sort of weird foreign delicacy. They were stupid. But, I blew them off, "Well, ladies, that's the beauty in boxes--anything you can't finish, I'd be happy to wrap for you. Hey, and lucky you--the dressing comes on the side!" I set their dressings down and walked away, leaving them with their gargantuan salads. Bitches.
I just don't understand WHY people's literacy rate drops the second they walk through the doors of ANY restaurant. No one can find the bathrooms, no one can read the menu, no one can read the drink specials--yet, any of the bric-a-brac (a nice word for "crap") we have on the wall, everyone reads and comments on ALL the time! I don't get it! They open up the menu to the drink page, and THEN ask what kind of margaritas we have! They are all listed and described in the FUCKING MENU! One day, I'm sure I'll snap! Someone will ask me to describe every motherfucking thing on the menu, and I will have to tell them to find a fucking translator because my job is NOT to read the menu to you--my job is to bring you the things YOU WANT off the menu! Fucking people.
Ahh...I actually have off tomorrow, which may hurt the wallet, but I have a VERY important Poppop to visit, so I'll take the cut...Double Friday though (open/close...I'm screaming already!).