insider’s guide to what happens when you leave your credit card at a restaurant.

23 Jun

Yet another really really really fun thing about being in the restaurant business is that customers leave their credit cards behind ALL THE TIME and it’s so much cheaper for me to use theirs to online shop than mine. For example, today this couple came in to the bar tonight so they could order takeout and vent about their kids without them hearing and have something chilly on the rocks to forget about bitchy teenage girls for awhile. And the woman (we’ll just call her Mary Jane, which is not actually her name, but Weeds starts next week and we both really like that show and the wholesome image it gives modern-day mommy weed dealers so that’s what we’re calling her) pulled out her card to pay. She put her receipt in the bag and headed towards the door. When she left her gold card sitting on the bartop all by its lonesome, I naturally headed to my office and bought a new pair of shoes, two nights at a hotel in Montauk to surprise Harry for a lover’s getaway, forty-two pounds of Wagyu beef shipped directly from a small farm not too far from Osaka so we can have a yummy BBQ and hopefully this amazing dress that I’ve been lusting after like forever but it’s a limited edition and I could only find it on ebay so I’m actually simultaneously writing this post and engaging in a total bidding war. I figured that if she’s got teenage kids, she surely will not be shocked to see a gaggle of random charges.

Just kidding. In actuality, Mary Jane is probably reading this post as we speak, and her boyfriend is going to give the card back to her only after she realizes that she’s reading about herself. So jokes on you, MJ!

In the real world, the number of charge cards left behind by customers nearly outweigh the number of cards actually used. I don’t understand why it is so difficult to put your plastic in it’s place, but apparently it is. (I will say that more men do it than women. Must be an intelligence thing.) There are so many cards in our register that I could probably buy a house, or at least a luxury car. But I’m nice (smart) enough to not use them for anything other than picking the lock in the downstairs office and the liquor room. I’m serious about that. I’ve got mad lock picking skills, you should invite me over and I can show you sometime.

Other items left behind have proven to be useful:

  • A brand new pink Coach coat and a brand new Tahari quilted black winter jacket, both in my size. They are my spring and winter outerwear respectively.
  • This black stretchy cardigan overthingy that comes to just the right place on my thigh that I don’t look super duper fat and it never gets wrinkled, not even when you put it in the laundry and forget to take it out of the dryer for 5-8 days.
  • A full farm’s worth of animal figurines. They are my babygirl’s favorite things to bring to dinner with her other than her mardi gras beads and cell phone and thong necklace.
  • A brand new notebook in which I am writing a short story so hilarious that I can’t finish it because I can’t stop laughing.
  • A wedding photo from the 1960s that someone left behind. I hung it on the wall by the host station and looked at it everyday for like 3 years, and finally about 7 months ago someone claimed it. I was devastated as it was my favorite piece of found art ever to be found ever ever ever. The owner came in the other day and told me that they brought it to have a copy made so it can come back to it’s home at my restaurant. I wept with excitement and giddiness.
  • A bag of cocaine.*
  • A pink rhinestone flower pin from Disney World that one evening I turned into a beautiful exquisite necklace using binder rings and bakery twine in order to complete my outfit.
  • A pair of blue sunglasses that my Work Husband and I fist fought over.

 

*Note: I have never done cocaine. Not even for artistic research in college when all I did was write about slutty party girls and their misadventures. I just feel like you should know that about me. You should also know that I sold the bag of drugs to buy me and Harry some self-serve frozen yogurt. Because no matter how hard I try, I cannot figure out how to make it cost less than $5.

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2 Responses to “insider’s guide to what happens when you leave your credit card at a restaurant.”

  1. Woody June 23, 2012 at 11:21 pm #

    the farm that Wagyu comes from, just outside of Osaka, is small and quaint, with only a hint of fresh manure, carcass and sweat of underage children. Always enjoy reading your posts… keep ’em coming x Love from J-pan! Woody

    • shelbytown June 24, 2012 at 9:24 pm #

      Woody! I totally thought of you when I wrote that. Nice to hear from you…

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