Easter. It should be a day of celebration. And for some it is. But rarely is it so for your server. Sure sometimes Easter can be a big money day, but that is not something you can bank on. You get stuck with a party of 14 who are celebrating Easter along with 22 birthdays (yes that math doesn't work, but I'm pretty sure that was what was going on today) and they camp out during peak volume for 2 1/2 hours. Hey folks, when I got your food on the table in 12 minutes from the time you ordered that means you need to shit & git. That lobby is full because of you. I have whiny skanky teenage zombies (aka hosts) bitching because they have parties waiting for my tables. And then you complain about a gratuity. When asked about the service by the manager you gave nothing but compliments. So when you came back in asking if we saved the cake you left behind it gave me great pleasure to inform you it was cleared by the busser and thrown in the garbage. And when you complained to the manager I laughed when they apologized and showed you the door.
What you can also bank on is assclowns in hats. There is a direct link to the number of hats and size of hats and how shitty your tip at that table will be. And if there are men wearing hats and the man is under the age of 60 you may as well just bend over as you approach the table and take it like a man. Crying only makes it worse.
Easter lunch is a horrible mix of old ladies in too much perfume, loud black families, dicks who think bible tracts are better than tips, and morons who let their kids drink 7 cokes and then wonder why they are running around in a PACKED and dangerous restaurant. Yes dangerous. I'll go out of my way to step on your crotch dropping if you let the bastards run through my section. When they smack their heads on chairs I actually laugh out loud. If that's the best your genes can do, stop. Save us all some pain.
And another table of mine I'm pretty sure they only had one grandma. That family tree didn't fork. But thankfully it is hard to yell "Squeal like a pig" while drinking your scampi butter.
And men in pink. Fucking pink. This isn't so much a macho issue as it is an issue about you looking like a douche. Only gay men can pull off pink, and that is only if they are really hot. The rest of you guys need to leave the pink to the good bits on the ladies.
So I worked my ass off today, and all I got from it was a headache, swamp ass near my 'taint, and barely enough money to make me consider coming back in on Monday. And I do mean barely.