Thursday, 10 July 2008

Coke, diet coke......

This is a wacky time of the year to be working in a restaurant. Actually it's a wacky time of the year full stop. Not like the old days all the same but there is still a certain something in the air. Smells like....smells like culture. Culture in this town is a very messy thing. Best avoided at all times I find. But our unique culture means that the town is empty and so are the restaurants. Still there was enough to keep me busy, especially with my trusty stabbing fork.
he has a bm.....
x


The first challenge of the evening came in the shape of two young businessmen. You know the type, pin stripped suit, blue shirt, pink tie, "hilarious" cufflinks (tonight's being The Simpson's on weenie number one and pint glasses on weenie number 2) all topped off with the obligatory spice boy haircuts. It didn't get off to a good start when weenie number one cracked a joke about the place being quiet. It was ten minutes after we opened and it was lashing down outside. Hardly likely to be a high point in the day. So I pissed directly on his chips, not literally of course that really would get me sacked, by checking the, empty, booking sheets and taking my time about it. I showed them to a table.

I didn't like the smug smart arsed way he joked about us being quiet. It got my back right up. I asked them if they wanted a drink.

"No, no I can't drink tonight. Driving. I'll just have a coke, a diet coke." And with that he tapped his BMW car keys and winked at me. Dodgy wink and BMW car keys aside when did coke, diet coke get removed from the drinks list? And what's with the Bond James Bond way of asking for a fucking diet cola. Weenie number one was annoying me. Weenie number two just asked for a sparkling water without the need to wink at me or show me that he had a flash motor.

I gave them sometime to peruse the menu returning to their table ten minutes later. The menus were closed and set to the side, standard "we're ready to order" signal. Except they weren't.

"Oh no sorry man, we were just talking there. Work, doesn't end at five for us."

Man? Did he just call me man? Get the fuck outta here! I wasn't sure if he was trying to be down with working class or just a knob end. I veered towards the latter.

"Riiiiiiiiiight." I said. "Yeah work only starts at five for me. You take your time there .....man."

And off I wandered. This guy fancied himself for a Belfast, "Patrick Bateman". More American Idiot than American Psycho. But after a bit I returned to the table. I knew they were ready this time by the return of the annoying wink. Winker.

Steaks, what else, were ordered. Weenie number 2 had been quiet and up until now had failed to register on the list of people to get it in the back with the stabbing fork. Weenie number 1 occupied the first five places. But with one simple request he managed to go straight in at number 2.

"Man..." Man again? Are you fucking kidding me? "...can I get the fat cut off my steak and instead of putting the sauce over it can you put the sauce on first and then put the steak on top of it and I'm not joking about the fat I'll send it back if there is any on it.....man."

I sort of stood there for a moment considering what weenie number 2 had said. It wasn't the request per se, although it did sound more than a little like weenie number 2 is no stranger to the world of OCD, but rather it was the way he said it. It was an order, not an order in the way most people order their food but rather in the way an army major bosses their subordinates. For a moment I considered lifting their menus and telling them to get the hell out. No explanation, no fuss, just get the fuck outta dodge.

But I didn't.

I just left the table but not before weenie number 1 explained that weenie number 2 was getting married in a few weeks and had to "look trim for the photos." Well isn't someone about to make the greatest fucking mistake of her life?!

The food was served and as requested with the fat cut off and sauce underneath. I checked on them half way through to make sure everything was cool for them and to see if they needed more drinks.

"Drinks? Man are you trying to get us drunk, we're driving tonight, just some water please." And again the odious little bollocks tapped his car keys. Sweet suffering Christ this guy was inches from getting beaten to a merry and bloody pulp.

"Yeah I get it, your driving. I'll get the water, dude." I said with more than a hint of sarcasm and rage. Hell if he was calling me man I was gonna call him dude.

They finished up and refused the offer of puddings, "Man, I've already been measured for my suit."

SHUT

THE

FUCK

UP

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHH!!

I brought the bill.

"Man..." weenie number 2 had his wallet out and handed me his card. "....take this will you."

It was a Halifax Switch Card, for an "Easycash" account which is like on the lowest level of bank accounts available. Tremendous. Just as I suspected, mutton dressed as lamb or rather Millhouse's dressed as Patrick Bateman's. I bet there is nothing in their freezers but mini-twister ice lollies and a half bag of frozen peas.

Man.....

24 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

savannah said...

i so feel your pain, sugar! at least those dudes were paying - someone like that was a guest in my home this past weekend!!!! holy mary, and it looks like the dudette gonna marry one of our best friends, too!!!! xoxoxo


(insult to injury, babe...now you see why i'm so down - no good news at all!!!)

Silverstar said...

Good thing I never waited on them, I definitely would have done a glass of ice water in the lap number on them. I guess now you have to ask if they want liquids rather than drinks.
Myself I find that those with posh rides are super annoying. They try to run you over in the crosswalk although the law says they have to stop for you. The people in the rusted out Hondas stop. I'd say screw 'em but I wouldn't want to give them the satisfaction.

Manuel said...

savannah: love is a very terrible thing....sometimes.....really do hope you're okay...

silverstar: this is why I blog.....it;s virtual lap full of water.....

Medbh said...

Oh, I hate that crunchy spice boys haircut style, Manuel.
Makes them look dirty.

Maxi Cane said...

These people really piss me off, I hate these cunts.

Man, Dude, chief, boss, mate.

Someone made the huge mistake of calling me sunshine once. It was the last time he fucking saw any.

belfastyouthworker said...

I was at the pub quiz at Cutters Wharf tonight and the table next to me were talking about Manuel from Fawlty Towers all night...I thought of you! Love your site :)

harried_dad said...

I've often felt that we should have some kind of private conversation mechanism.

Like when those two were saying what they thought was smart, a two inch "mini-me" should have popped out of the escape hatch at the back of your head, shinned down to the ground, climbed up the other guy's back and ducked inside to have a word with his mini-me.

Once his mini-me realised what a muppet he was being, then his mini-me could have given his brain a right good kicking until normal service was resumed.

That way everyone is happy and your tip is not endangered.

daisyfae said...

@harried_dad: i'll have whatever mushrooms you've been served, please. side order of percodan, if you've got some to spare!

MJ said...

Did you put something in Harried Dad's drink?

Sassy Sundry said...

You should have brought the weenies some weenies instead of steak.

James Bond would do them some serious harm.

Blondefabulous said...

It could have been worse..... he could have been snapping his fingers at you and calling you "Boy".

Murder in that instance is so TOTALLY justified!

harried_dad said...

Forgot to ask, is Gillian there?

conortje said...

Oh I so wish you had just chucked them out for being such knobs - I feel for you, I really do!

Manuel said...

medbh: most of them are.....

maxi: bwahahaha......do you ever get "squire"?

byw: welcome! nice........i could have done with an ego boost....

dad: they were never in any danger of tipping anyway......cunty cunts

daisyfae: hehehehehe

mj: i think he's doing it all himself.....

sassy: hello! how you doin? good to see you back!

blondie: i'd have lost it.......totally lost it....

dad: oh ha ha....

conortje: one day.......one day.....

toast said...

NO SYMPATHY.


none.

not.a.jot.


you have to deal with these hoorbags once a month, in the cut and thrust world of whatever the hell it is i do i have to deal with these blowhards every bloody day.

You know what it is tho, with me, its the hair-dont's these people 'rock', i was in the states earlier this year and spotting british and irish people is made all the easier by these utterly utterly ridiculous haircuts - hang on when the fuck did limahl or david bowie in labyrinth become a fashion icon - seriously -do these people see themselves in a mirror and think 'shit, lookin fine today' - what the fuck has given rise to this hair thing - where do people learn this - its obviously only a british and irish thing, but i watch tv, i read some things, i don't see where people are being told to look like this - i'm worried i might miss the rapture as well.

anyway, i am digressing here - yeah, these ballbags in there tax deductible cars... you know what, look on their sky+ and you'll see 'top gear' and the 10 minute free previews before the adult channels get scrambled - thats more nailed on than the fact that they have snow patrol on their ipods... and thats pretty fucken nailed on.


So in summary, haircuts bad, waiters good, ITV4's picture quality of Tour de France coverage, V. Poor.

jen said...

Maybe they'd rumbled your cover and were trying to say 'Man...uel'? Suss you out discretely? Although that would be crediting them with highly-honed cognitive skills and the ability to do some solid detective work. I think it's pretty clear there was nothing but tumbleweed inbetween the ears. Nope, they were calling you 'Man' and were complete tossers.

The winking thing - all my in-laws do it. It's infectious and now they've got me doing it unconsciously now. Argh!

Mudflapgypsy said...

Toast: hahahahahahaha on the money!

Manny: I empathise. A BMW is the staus symbol de rigeur where I live. I would never buy one and I can bloody afford one (second hand of course, or is that pre owned?).
Driven by knobs. Wanting to be trim for the wedding photos? One steak isn't going to put 5 lbs on is it? Narcissistic twat. To compare them to Patrick Bateman, though I understand why, is to give them some semblace of cool, which they most definitely are not.
They really think they are don't they. Flashing a bmw keyring....doesn't mean he was driving one though. Either way he's a berk, innee?

I had the misfortune to have to do some work with one of these types once. A financial advisor no less.
Other human beings are there to provide profit to people like these. He loved whatever he was told to like, which amused me greatly.

LSD in the diet coke Manny, sort them out proper and then the axe of course.............

;-)

witchypoo said...

Every time I read your blog I have to poop. I don't know why.

Sharon said...

Stoopid men. But I bet you were composing this post as you dealt with them!

I'm only half sorry you have to deal with these ejits (and I get you about the hair, what's up with that?) but at least it makes for an entertaining read for your dedicated fans.

Oh and I get you on the Belfast culture problem, especially at this time of year. Prime tourist season, and the city is practically deserted.

Shieldmaiden96 said...

How the hell did you not snort when he asked for the fat cut off? Jesus on a scooter. Does his mommy do that for him at home?

fatmammycat said...

Man, what a bunch of cunts.

Manuel said...

toast: bwahahahahahaha so so bitter....

jen: correct......maan

muddy: spike em next time eh......?

witchypoo: everytime I write it I have much the same reaction

sharon: hell yeah down to the commas and full stops......poor tourists will be walking about with looks of bewilderment and boredom.....

shieldmadien: I KNOW? WTF?!!

fmc: snarf ehehehe

Mudflapgypsy said...

Man: only if you use the axe.

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