If you're going to be the worst table I have ever dealt with, don't look at my boobs while you complain about the crackers. Number one, you're old enough to be my grandfather. Number two, you're complaining about CRACKERS.
This experience taught me a lesson. Well it taught me two lessons- Holly told me maybe I shouldn't have boobs if I don't want people looking at them. So that was the first really helpful lesson. The second one was this: When I reviewed my tips at the end of the night, I thought that I saw that they had left me a large tip. This table could not have been more difficult, and so I was very surprised. So that got me thinking- Does it make it OK for a table to play mind games with you AND objectify you all at once if they leave you a large tip or does it make you feel dirty and used? What the hell? Who were these people coming in, seemingly hating everything, and then leaving a large tip? I concluded that I would have preferred if they had followed through and left a couple of nickels so I didn't feel like their whole shtick was a fucked up form of entertainment for them. "Lets complain about delicious, perfectly prepared food, and Frank- you're creepy- why don't you make the waitress uncomfortable by never once lifting your eyes from her chest! Perfect! She will squirm!" I was settled on my righteous answer- I'll take a little respect over money- until I looked at the credit card slip again and saw that they tipped quite poorly (as originally anticipated). Immediately I was pissed! So, that proves it once and for all- my morals are very weak. I'll take the money. Or maybe it just shows that I will complain no matter what.
Anyway, I've been promised pizza for staff meal tonight. Whoa- I went to the Country Cat the other night and sat at the chef's counter with my family and ended up getting in a lively conversation about staff meal with cooks. Those guys have staff meal before AND after every shift, and they bring in special treats all the time. They have nachos. I don't want to say I have a wandering eye; I'm very loyal to my job. But nachos... a girl can dream. After I get fired because of the old b-l-o-g I know where I'm going.