I'm like this dude, only shorter and less Jewish.
So, I figured I would supply a few pointers to help all of you out (and your retarded family) when you are venturing into the bewildering world of casual dining. These are some of the most irritating no-brainers I encounter at work, extremely basic things you should know as a self-reliant adult.
How you like your steak or hamburger cooked
This one never ceases to amaze me. I'm at a table of middle-aged people and one of them orders a sirloin, then turns to their spouse/significant other and says, "How do I like it cooked?" Really? You have never figured this out? Having heard, presumably, someone tell you this information scores if not hundreds of times over your life, I would think you might start to remember it, even if you can't be troubled to learn the damn temperatures yourself, you lazy piece of shit. On top of this, a good proportion of the population doesn't even know what the cook temperatures are. I had a customer argue with my manager for ten minutes that "medium" means the steak is cooked all the way through. If that's true, what is "well-done"? And "done" is not a temperature, dumbfuck. If you don't understand how grilled meats work, don't order them.
How credit cards work
This sounds pretty ridiculous, but many people don't actually understand how credit cards pay for things. My guests have tried to sign the first receipt I give them, before handing me the card. How do you think I am going to access your account without ever seeing your account number? I am not psychic, and restaurant policy dictates I leave my magic wand in my car. And here's another news flash: you have to leave behind a signed copy with all the relevant numbers on it, preferably with correct math. Signing something is pointless if you take it home with you. If you do so, I am going to assume you are either a shit-thick fuckwit who knows nothing of the monetary system or a cheap, conniving asshole who doesn't want to tip and took the receipt, pretending you “forgot” I need a copy. And you know what? Every other server thinks the same way. You don't have to be John Nash, Jr. to get this right.
How to read a menu
I cannot express how much this aggravates me. Restaurants provide these handy, helpful written guides to the food they offer so that you don't have to play 20 questions with your server. We are there to assist you, yes, but we have other people to attend to and about a dozen-odd other duties to perform – we shouldn't have to spend fifteen minutes at your table basically reading the menu to you. This isn't kindergarten. Yes, like every other goddamned restaurant in the world, we offer sides with our meals, and, like every fucking menu ever printed, those sides are listed both with the entrees and at the end of the menu, under the convenient heading of “Sides.” Wild, right? Did you just selectively choose certain words to read, disregarding the dozens of baffling ones around them? Or are you just the lazy twat I think you are? I'm going with the latter.
How you like your steak or hamburger cooked
This one never ceases to amaze me. I'm at a table of middle-aged people and one of them orders a sirloin, then turns to their spouse/significant other and says, "How do I like it cooked?" Really? You have never figured this out? Having heard, presumably, someone tell you this information scores if not hundreds of times over your life, I would think you might start to remember it, even if you can't be troubled to learn the damn temperatures yourself, you lazy piece of shit. On top of this, a good proportion of the population doesn't even know what the cook temperatures are. I had a customer argue with my manager for ten minutes that "medium" means the steak is cooked all the way through. If that's true, what is "well-done"? And "done" is not a temperature, dumbfuck. If you don't understand how grilled meats work, don't order them.
This shit ain't "medium."
How credit cards work
This sounds pretty ridiculous, but many people don't actually understand how credit cards pay for things. My guests have tried to sign the first receipt I give them, before handing me the card. How do you think I am going to access your account without ever seeing your account number? I am not psychic, and restaurant policy dictates I leave my magic wand in my car. And here's another news flash: you have to leave behind a signed copy with all the relevant numbers on it, preferably with correct math. Signing something is pointless if you take it home with you. If you do so, I am going to assume you are either a shit-thick fuckwit who knows nothing of the monetary system or a cheap, conniving asshole who doesn't want to tip and took the receipt, pretending you “forgot” I need a copy. And you know what? Every other server thinks the same way. You don't have to be John Nash, Jr. to get this right.
"Now if only I could crack the formula for filling out a credit card receipt . . ."
How to read a menu
I cannot express how much this aggravates me. Restaurants provide these handy, helpful written guides to the food they offer so that you don't have to play 20 questions with your server. We are there to assist you, yes, but we have other people to attend to and about a dozen-odd other duties to perform – we shouldn't have to spend fifteen minutes at your table basically reading the menu to you. This isn't kindergarten. Yes, like every other goddamned restaurant in the world, we offer sides with our meals, and, like every fucking menu ever printed, those sides are listed both with the entrees and at the end of the menu, under the convenient heading of “Sides.” Wild, right? Did you just selectively choose certain words to read, disregarding the dozens of baffling ones around them? Or are you just the lazy twat I think you are? I'm going with the latter.
How to tip
Servers do not make minimum wage. It doesn't matter what state you are in, or what the federal government says. Those laws do not apply to servers, who make possibly as much as $4.00 per hour. But most don't. I make $2.65. That's it. And you think it's perfectly acceptable to leave me $3.00 on your $25.00 meal? Go fuck yourself. Then go fuck your dog. Then tell your dog to go fuck . . . something worse. Anne Coulter, maybe. Tipping is not a flat rate, nor is it something you should just guess at, unless you are Donald Trump and carry no denomination of currency lower than twenties. At a bare minimum, you should tip 15% of your original bill. 20% is actually more the norm these days. So you're dyslexic and computationally-retarded? No excuse. That iPad with the GPS, laser-scanner, and nuclear launch capability that you just had to have also boasts a nifty tip calculator. And if you used a coupon, gift card, or special certificate to reduce your total, it means precisely nothing. You need to tip on however much the tab was before the discount. If anything, you ought to tip more, because you're already getting off light. If you "can't afford" to do that, there are plenty of alternative eateries for people with your budget.
And you'll be relieved the taxing decision of choosing a side, because everything comes with French fries.
How to manage your child
The restaurant is not a daycare center. To reiterate, the restaurant is not a daycare center. We are not responsible for watching your shrieking little demon offspring, nor are you excused from doing so just because you are in a "safe" environment. Because, in fact, a restaurant is an extremely dangerous place for children. Think about it: there are people rushing around to deliver food as fast as possible, many carrying scorching hot dishes, in a building that often has wet floors, blind corners, and lots of sharp and/or breakable objects. Just like Tot Spot, right? Any child under the age of six should never be allowed to leave the table without an adult escort (the eight-year-old at the table does not count), and then it should only be for express, expedient trips to the restroom. I don't care that you are having a massive, annoying family gathering and want to "chill out" for an extra hour and a half after your meal. The kids have to stay seated at the table with you, being quiet and respectful, and not climbing the fixtures like acid-tripping lemurs in a construction zone.
Only adorable if they are yours. And, even then, not for long.
What's that you say? I can't expect so much of kids? No fucking shit. That's why you need to either control them like a real-live adult or, preferably, leave when dinner is done. Period. And the salt and pepper shakers are not toys, nor are the sugar packets free snacks (why in holy un-fucking-believable hell would you let your child consume these?). I cannot count the number of times I have stood at a table and watched parents blithely disregard their child dumping half a shaker of salt out on the table amidst Splenda packets strewn willy-nilly, as if it's just an unavoidable part of having kids at a restaurant. Some even seem to be under the criminal misapprehension that this is somehow cute.
When I was a child, all of this shit was avoidable, because you either disciplined your bastard offspring so that they knew how to behave, or you didn't bring them to public places any more than necessary. You want to get out of the house? Tired of cooking dinner? Then teach those walking STDs you chose to pop out how to sit down, shut the fuck up, and not make a mess on/around/under the table to rival Hurricane Katrina's aftermath when the Tasmanian Devil is done with it.
In Oregon, servers do make minimum wage on top of tips. Min wage in Oregon is 8.50 an hour. I don't know whether this hurts their tipping or not (Oregonians may think they get paid enough so they tip cheaply). Who knows. It does irk me when people tip based off of the discounted bill, from a certificate or coupon. I remember waiters would bitch because their tips were lower on those tables. It's like, don't eat out if you don't know how.
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