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Friday 7 September 2007

WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

all waiters have a voodoo doll
and big pricks
(for the doll!)

This week had been fun, well it had been okay, let's not get carried away. The public weren't dishing out the cash like JD Rockefeller's but they weren't being tight asses either. No major dramas, no nights worthy of a blog post either. And that's all very fine with me. Not every night can be a Saturday night.

Tonight, for the most of it, had been another one of those nights. I had a table of 15 estate agents, a couple of tables of 2, some chatty tourists, and two tables of 1, awh. I should have got those two together. And all of these had been enjoyable tables to serve. The estate agents I could live without, but I got through it without having to resort to threats of violence or sarcasm. Sarcasm is the finest weapon in the waiters armoury, well that and the threat of spitting in your soup. It's just a threat mind, but one we hold in reserve for special occasions.

Then a rather exasperated gentleman appeared at the door. Behind him were 6 other exasperated and unhappy looking gentlemen. The first sight they got of the restaurant was one of full tables everywhere, this appeared to add to their unhappiness and before I could get a word out one of the guys at the back was tugging at the lead guy telling him it was hopeless. It was all very Mary, Joseph and the donkey.

Turns out they had been double booked in their chosen restaurant. Oh that's not good, not good at all. I would get beaten to a very bloody pulp if I did the same thing. Not that I would of course. The lead chap was pleading with me for a table. He was entertaining clients from Scotland and the whole double booking fiasco was fucking things up for him. He tugged on my elbow and moved me to the side out of earshot of his guests, he told me I was his only hope, that he needed me to save the night, that he would "look after" me if I could just get him a table.

I felt for the guy. He was clearly under pressure. So I scanned the booking sheets for a bit of space, none was obvious though. So I sent them to the bar and told them their table would be ready in 20 minutes. Now this was a bare faced porky pie. I had no idea when or where I was getting him a table from. But as I say I felt for him, and the promise of being "looked after" was more than enough to get me motivated. Tables were shuffled about, chairs mismatched (but better than no chair), and one table was politely urged to get the fuck out. Two and a half hours for two main courses and glasses of house red is long enough.

The table was seated and the chap was delighted. He was back to being the big lad again, as opposed to looking like the guy who couldn't book a table in a restaurant. Now the restaurant was busy and the Princess and I had to double up on this table in order to get it done. This isn't something I like doing but if we have to double up it may as well be the Princess and I. You get 2 quality waiters for the price of one. And without sounding like a pig, men react better when they are served by a woman. Male waiters who serve men will be called gay. Female waiters that serve women will be called whores. It's a very sad fact of life.

But between the Princess and I we crafted out a nifty little performance for these guys. Lots of wise cracking between each of us that had the lads laughing. The lead chap was relaxed and enjoying himself. His earlier worries seemed to have disappeared. Now that's what I call a job well done. The food arrived on time and was quality, real quality in fact. I told the kitchen so as well. And I really don't like having to do that. They drank good wine as recommended by me, they ordered 2 more bottles on top of the initial 2.

If I wasn't so fat, and white and so totally uncoordinated I would have high fived someone. The Princess and I were good. My high five's normally end up with the intended recipient getting a busted nose or a stray finger in the eye. Cool, I am not.

The lads ate and drank until they could do no more. We left them to their business. After a half hour or so the lead chap asked for the bill. I presented it and again checked if they were happy with their night. They were very happy. There was lots of faux attempts by some of the others to get the bill from the lead guy but it was all smoke and mirrors. He would be paying and that was that. And pay he did. And he shook my hand. And he patted my back. And he winked at the Princess. And he said he would be back with the family some day soon. And he told me he was glad the other restaurant had double booked him. And then, you can see where this is going can't you, and then he fucked off out of the restaurant. WHERE WAS MY "LOOK AFTER YOU" MONEY?

We were besides ourselves with anger. A mop bucket was kicked, threats of violence issued, karma spells were cast. It's not the first time I have been stiffed and it wont be the last. But fuck me what is it with people? WHAT FUCKING MORE DO YOU WANT? Answers on the poll at the top of the page thank you.

Gotta go, I have a voodoo doll in the shape of a businessman to finish....

Answers on the poll please.

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27 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

whyioughtta said...

That's it. That story has inspired me to invent a time machine specifically so that you can travel back in time and spit in that wanker's meal. What an ass. You should have gotten a nice neat $100 to split (at the very least) or maybe he could have bought you one of your top bottles of wine to share...something...anything. I mean if he was entertaining clients, that means it was all on the company credit card anyways. Dink.

I'll let you know as soon as I get the blueprints ironed out...

Manuel said...

Hurry good woman, hurry

Anonymous said...

WOW screw those guys, kick their faces off.

p.s i voted for the bottom feeling. ;]

Manuel said...

Angela: I saw that! Not sure how I feel about that...But yes kicking their faces off does appeal to me!

Jenny said...

I would be honored to kick his ass if it didn't require International travel and a passport. Just sayin' I got your back Fo Shizzle Ma Nizzle. Oh, and I have a wicked left hook.

Gnomeself Be True said...

Regarding the poll...just try not to go out of your way to make me feel foolish for not knowing how to pronounce various food and wine items.

Anonymous said...

oh p.s nice new banner there manuel, it doesn't burn my eyes to look at it anymore. haha :]

Anonymous said...

What an absolute sharmuta, I'm sure you were fit to murder. I dont understand as one he liked the restaurant and so may come back but so surely he wants good service next time, two he was desparate and you came to his aid and as a business man he should know that he may need that heklp again.

I certainly would not be investing in his company as anyone that short sighted is doomed.

Anonymous said...

Maybe he thought 'take care of you' meant something else? He could've been waiting round the back, all lubed up...

As for the poll - dont over-do the whole 'posh restaurant' thing - I feckin hate it when waiters lay my napkin on my lap, its friggin insulting.

Also a sneaky little crotch-rub would'nt go amiss when delivering the bill. Just a suggestion.

Momentary Madness said...

Spitting to deal with the ???? aside, I always spit in the frying pan to check if the oil is hot enough. Now I have to think of a whole new strategy.
Y;-) Paddy

Anonymous said...

Paddy, throw it at the wall and if it sticks its ready

don't mention it

Anonymous said...

Jesus some people have a neck, do you know what you should do you should have two bowls for the mints people take on the way out the door fill one with laxatives and when you come across an unappreciative customer have your trusty missus waiting at the door dishing them out, wink wink!

Manuel said...

Anonymous Boxer:Free pudding for you...

Iamnot: Awh, but that's at least half the fun of being a waiter. Pretending not to know what people are saying when we know fine rightly. Then we correct them in a lovely patronising way....

Angela: Yeah was much happier with that one myself

MacDara:And that is my point exactly. If they are bad to the waiter, they are bad full stop. Oh I look forward to the day when he returns

Sheepo: I was thinking that as well, horrible thought. "a sneaky little crotch-rub would'nt go amiss when delivering the bill" Same goes for the customer as well. I have needs you know...

Paddy: Hey Paddy, how you been? I like Toast's suggestion. Cant see that going wrong at all...

Toast: A regular Fanny Craddock eh....

Manuel said...

Nonny: Cant I just rub the mints round my sweaty crotch and then put them back in the bowl? That sounds like more fun, much more fun....

Anonymous said...

Maybe he just forgot. It could just be a possibility

Anonymous said...

Manuel, I would tickle your testicles without a moments hesitation if it would mean i got a decent meal in Belshaft.

TCIAR - I dont think its ever possible to 'forget' a tip.

Sassy Sundry said...

Oh, what an ass. Get him good. I know a lady who can help.

John Cav said...

I went out for dinner once with a group of mates. We were all being treated by one of the lads who was celebrating getting a new job. A very, very well paid new job.

The exact same thing happened. A double booking in another restaurant. A frantic dash. Keen to look the big man... "Sort me out and I'll look after you."

And sorted out we were. Great grub, fine service. Giggles aplenty. And then the bill... And then we left.

And the "big man" shafted the waitress. No sorting out dollars. And then when outside he started to giggle about it with us. Even attempting a high five or two.

Which was stupid... As I was a barman, one was a waiter, and another a chef. We had all heard his promise, and had given him money to help with the sorting out. We promptly got the gobshite to wheel right around and pay the woman. Which he did. Eventually.

He's not a bad guy. Just a bit of a dick... Sigh... The awkward dichotomy of mateship.

Anonymous said...

heh heh I admire your ingenuity Manuel.

Megan McGurk said...

I was always suspicious of people who told me they'd take care of me. Only cheap fuckers ever said it.
Sadly all you can do is ask the universe to send it back to them.
Poor Manuel.

ellie said...

Never eating another mint in a restaurant ...ever! Especially a Belfast restaurant! Must eat out more and see if you actually reveal yourself... in an unmasking sort of way, not for one minute suggesting your a flasher ....ok ok I'm going!

The Little Cheese said...

Bottoms all the way for me!

Seriously though, next time you see some nativity scene at your door tell them to find some other good samaritan.

Anonymous said...

Dirty rotten scummy bastard. I have to admit to using the same tactic myself on occassion but at leat I flash the cash first. Only right. Still, I imagine you'll remember a face. Restaurant karma....

Old Knudsen said...

At least the customer had a good dining experience and will tell others, you've lost the mission lad.

Manuel said...

TCIAR: Nah, nah they aren't and whatever blah blah blah

Sheepo: Eh um best of luck with that then. Try Fermanagh...

Sassy: Send her my way...

John Cav: You learnd the boy good...

Nonny: One has to have something...

Medbh: Oh he'll get his, no doubt ...

Ellie: My mints are safe, promise. You see Ellie I know what you look like and as such I could have a lot of fun messing with you if you were in my restaurant. And if you were in my restaurant I would reveal myself before you left.

Manuel said...

The little cheeso: Damn right I will. Bottom toucher eh, get help...

BBB: once bitten, forever...., forever fucked off...

Old K: Lost the battle, but the war is on...cheeky get...

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