How to not be annoying in a restaurant.

11 Jan

Yesterday after I posted part 1 of why I have no friends, I received an outpouring of comments from two people, accusing me of treating them like chopped liver. Coincidentally, one of these readers also has food allergies, so in one post I not only declared that I don’t really consider her a friend, but I also called her nuts. While I may have been exaggerating slightly about my friendless existence, having friends simply isn’t that funny. How many jokes start out “So I was hanging out at a swingin’ bar with a group of peers who truly enjoy spending oodles of time with me…?” Exactly my point. None. That being said, I don’t want to insult the other three of you, so I will refrain from publishing the exhilarating conclusion to Why I Have No Friends until these folks decide to drop me like a Hot Potato because I exploited their questionable taste in comrades on the internet.

Last night was alright at the restaurant. There were some super annoying customers in the dining room, (“No, sir, you cannot use a tax exempt form to pay for your bowl of soup. And unfortunately we do not accept gift certificates to the restaurant that was in this location ten years ago.”) and one major bitch at the bar, (“This is an oversized wine glass, we don’t fill it to the top, you are not getting ripped off, I promise.”) but all in all it was pretty uneventful.

The real action came after work, when I went for a late night snack to one of those trendy beer places that serves like 389 beers nobody has ever heard of (or is it just 4 beers and 389 different labels? Conspiracy? I think maybe…) and I ordered “whatever’s light on tap,” which any smart bartender will translate to “anything that tastes like water with a little beer in it.” This guy must have thought I like beer or something, because he gave me a sample of something “light in color” but “super hoppy.” I swished it around in my mouth like Listerine, hoping that I’d grow accustomed to the nasty taste and actually miss it after I swallowed it. Not the case.

“Maybe I’ll just have a Bud Light.”

Because guess what. I am just as much of a pain in the ass as every customer I bitch about. I didn’t come to this conclusion myself, because obviously I think that everything I do is perfect. It was actually the Gay Asian Waiter for whom I wrote yesterday’s Haiku (who kindly informed me that he still won’t read my whole blog post, so it’s good that I’m getting some other hits).

“You’re just like all of the other asshole customers.”

I attempted to dispute this ridiculous accusation until he began to point out some key examples. Here, a list of ways that I am just as annoying as all of you in restaurants.

  1. I want a booth. Even if the wait is longer. Even if there are no booths in the building. I want a booth. The only exception to this is if I am with five other people, in which case I want a round table.
  2. Can you tell me precisely how many more people are before me on that wait list? I, too, look at the wait list as the hostess is checking, even though it annoys the HELL out of me when you do it to me. I’m super lucky because I’m also familiar with Open Table and can track my reservation from more of a distance across the room. Oh, and speaking of Open Table….
  3. Why, yes! I did make that online reservation while my husband was pulling into the parking lot! I mean, where there’s a will there’s a way.
  4. I haven’t even GLANCED at the menu yet! Sorry! It doesn’t matter who is sitting next to me at the table, or if I’ve been to this restaurant 6 other days this week. I have no idea what I want, and if I’m with another female, I won’t know for at least 45 more minutes. Also I’d like you to read my mind and come back to the table at the EXACT moment I’m ready to order.
  5. I just can’t decidddeeeeeeeee…. What do you recommend? And yes, I always order the exact opposite of whatever the item is. You say Pineapple Upside Down Cake, I say Ummm Do You Have Anything Right Side Up?
  6. Excuse me, Waiter? There’s a hair, fly and piece of metal in my soup. This actually doesn’t annoy me in the slightest as a restaurant owner, as long as it’s done with a little bit of class. And don’t get me wrong. I don’t do this to get something for free (although I’m extremely talented at getting comped dessert by making managers feel really bad and/or pity my date. Another day…). I do this because if you have a legit problem with anything happening in a restaurant, nobody is going to be able to fix it by you keeping it to yourself. And you never know who is going to be turned off in the future. For instance, the other day I dined at a terrible restaurant disguising itself as a new overpriced steakhouse (I’m keeping the name out of this to protect the potential available real estate) and when the head server asked how everything was, I said (after I paid so as to not encourage a discount or comp) “The food was not good. But worst of all is the pen sticking out of our waitress’s ponytail. Perhaps next time she removes it to take an order for a $40 piece of chicken she can put it in her apron pocket?”
  7. Oh, we’re the only people left! We’re not keeping you here are we? IF YOU EVER HAVE TO ASK THAT QUESTION, THEN THE ANSWER IS GET OUT NOW BEFORE THE BUSBOY KEYS YOUR CAR.


Lots of love to my two friends and everyone else who’s been reading to the end of these THRILLING posts!!


2 Responses to “How to not be annoying in a restaurant.”

  1. Jill January 12, 2012 at 7:33 am #

    Is it the new steakhouse down the road in my town that pegs itself as upscale. I can’t get the imagine of the previous not so upscale restaurants located there out of my head to enjoy a fancy meal there. If it is the same place I am thinking I think a BBQ joint playing country music belongs there.


  1. the fuck-up. « shelbytown - April 24, 2012

    […] to Charlie on the phone, no less going to drink water-flavored beer with […]

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