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Tuesday 21 October 2008

"My gravy is too brown" and other highlights...

Saturday night at work wasn't very pleasant, in fact it was decidedly unpleasant. Inevitably I ended up in a very dark place after the madness was over, a very dark and lonely place filled only with pain and swearing and distant voices.

I'm not speaking in overly dramatic metaphors by the way. I had forgotten to leave a light on when I left for work that afternoon and the house was in complete darkness when I got home. The phone was ringing as I entered my darkened abode and in my rush to answer it I tripped and banged my knee hence the swearing and the distant voice of LMM asking me, somewhat ironically, if I was okay as she hadn't heard from me all evening. You see this is what happens when I have to work past midnight. It was the perfect end to a very frustrating evening.

Don't rock the boat...
...don't tip the waiter over (the edge)


By frustrating I really mean eye gougingly awful. It was the sort of night that made me want to pull my own scrotum off and stuff it down the throat of the next mouth breather that even attempted to bother me with some spurious grievance or other.

"My gravy is too brown", being one of the highlights of the night. One really has to fight the urge to beat people with their own coats sometimes. "My gravy is too brown?" My ass is too big but we all have our crosses to bear. Still, that was was just a minor blip in comparison to the major ball ache that was to follow.

For example there was the man who arrived a half hour late for his 6pm booking complete with wife and elderly in-laws and then complained about us keeping him late for the concert he was going to after dinner. Well he probably shouldn't have fucking ordered sweets and coffee at half seven if he needed to be on the other side of town for eight o'fucking clock now should he? The total ass hat wet himself in the worst way with lots of shouting and drama. You could literally see the respect and love drain away from his wife and in-laws as he jab jabbed away with his pointy finger whilst refusing to let anyone else speak. Me included, which was annoying.

You see he was going to the thee-ah-ter, not to be confused with the theatre you understand where normal people, free from the difficulty of having a set of plums in their mouths, might go.

"We are going to a show in the thee-ah-ter you know....", he roared.

"Oh re-ah-ley!" I was tempted to reply but didn't as I didn't want to fuel his chagrin any further.

But his constant, and I mean constant like in every sentence, use of the word thee-ah-ter was really getting on my goat. He said it like it was a magical place that only wonderful people like he and his family would go. And every time he said it his stubby little nose was poked into the air in a dramatic swoosh.

He then whinged on about Pops (his father in-law) not having time to enjoy his pudding having had to wait a torturous ten minutes for it to arrive. Ten minutes? I wouldn't mind but the kitchen were flat out and working like Trojans. But his language was tweaking my nipples something shocking.

Pudding?

Thee-ah-ter?

Pops?

He was like a character from a Billy Bunter novel. I bet drives a motor car and enjoys luncheon and finishes each evening off with supper. Bleurgh!

He became almost catatonic as he tried to pay his bill. He was paying by credit card but the one credit card machine that we have was in use, by me. And each payment takes a few minutes and this was winding him up. I could see him hovering from the corner of my eye. I cant make the machine go any quicker and all the other guests had requested their bills before him. So he had to wait.

"Is there any chance I can pay my bill?", he blustered as I returned to the register.

"Ah yes, you are going to the thee-ah-ter sir aren't you?" I love stating the obvious.

If looks could kill I'd have been six foot under. "Take my card." And he shoved the golden card into my hand with more force than was really needed.

Asshole.

He made his own cross and chose to carry it himself by being late and booking into a restaurant in the wrong side of town from where he really needed to be. His woe is me attitude and sense of victimhood should have been recorded and set to music - something like Adagio for Strings, you know from Willem Defoe's death scene in Platoon. And if you think that's over the top you should have seen this guy lose it.

Wa-ahn-ker.

32 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

Anonymous said...

Ah memories.

I had one like that once. She sent food back THREE times and when it came 15 minutes to 8 and she still hadn't received her coffee yet I was the worst fucker alive.

Calming the situation I asked her what she was going to see in the The-ah-ter and she replied:

"Waiting for God-ott."

So she finished off her Mer-lott and off she went. I couldn't help correcting her on the pronunciation of the play, and her wine. I know it made me petty too, but fuck it.

She was a right bee-hotch.

Manuel said...

maxi: yer man had the henry halls to say that we had no excuse for keeping back as weren't busy. The fucking place was rammed, not a seat to be had......asshat

Anonymous said...

Hindsight is great. You should have told him you were only waiting tables on the side and that actually you were an actor in the show he was going to.

Fuck his night up.

Assholes like that really make the job harder than it already is.

Manuel said...

maxi: yes and we are discouraged from hitting them with our belts....which is disappointing...

Anonymous said...

What an arshole! What I try to do in a case like that and I know if they are going to be late for something I just tell them it's better I bill you now so you can get to where you are going on time.Forget about dessert.This way you piss them off nicely and you get sweet revenge.If they order dessert though I bill them before they even get it.That way they have to wait knowing they paid for it.That really pisses them off cause you warned them.If I know before the meal they are in a hurry and they order something that will take 30 minutes to cook I tell them to order something else that won't take as long.If it is on the menu something pasta is good. In other words don't blame me you cannot order what you want because you came in late. The best one I like though is when I don't know they are in a rush and they have ordered something that takes a while.They say we are in a bit of a hurry where is our meal and I respond , Oh why didn't you tell me I would have put a rush on it. I kinda act stupid. Remember 2 deer in the headlights.

Anonymous said...

it'd have been poetic justice for this bloke's card to decline

Anonymous said...

What a total asswipe. Honestly, I don't know how you stop yourself from beating them to death with a handy rolling pin.

I often find my gravy's not brown enough. Meh.

Anonymous said...

I bet he was wearing tweed with a hint of green?

http://www.lindaclifford.com/HarrisTweed/HarrisTweed.jpg

Anonymous said...

Im guessing he was off to watch May McFetridge in panto?

Anonymous said...

If you know your not going to get a tip, "Bad Read" every time. Just lift a little as you swipe and the data stream gets interrupted nicely.

Then you can ask if his parents want to pay...

Manuel said...

steve: what gets me steve is that he knew he was going to a show at 8, he clearly knew he was late, he knew he was pushing his luck ordering sweets and yet he blames us for keeping him back!!!

byw: yes, yes it would......but these types carry many many cards......more than clintons

english mum: it is one of life's major issues.....!

redleeroy: no but I'm sure he has a fine tweed collection

sheepo: ha! what a lovely idea.....

harried dad: bwahahahaha that would have been sweet......or pudding as he may or may not have said

Unknown said...

Belated happy birthday you big-hearted, pert-assed wonder of a waiter!

Did you have to work it?

Crispy said...

Sorry...did I miss your earlier birthday!!?
Yer man sounds like a right arse!! Don't you wish you could just say what you wanted to him or any other mouth breather, I mean really let it rip and then rewind when you were done, so they are none the wiser!!?

Manuel said...

conan: your information is askew....my birthday isn't for a few weeks yet....

crispy: yes, yes you did..send me stuff....now

Anonymous said...

It then sounds like he didn't want to piss you off but his guests.That is what must have happened.He didn't really want to go.He used you as a decoy.

Unknown said...

Ooops! Ah, I see what happened...it'd be about November 4? I mistook the present tense for a reference to the day it was written, the 20th. Sure happy birthday anyway!

Manuel said...

steve: yeah I'm not sure he really wanted to go at all......

conan: just be back on the fourth with pressies......hehehehe

Anonymous said...

Manuel your writing and choice of words in describing a situation is awesome. I only wish my diction was as commendable. Bravo!

Manuel said...

steve: stop it......you'll have me blushing.....

Megan McGurk said...

What was he going to see?
Was it "Menopause The Musical?"
Hee.

Manuel said...

medbh: bwahahahahahaha quality!

Old Knudsen said...

I my good sir have been to the 'Arts' The-ah-ter twice so me shite doesn't smell, show some respect.




I then got totally blocked in the Empire and puked me Abrakababra up.

Ifyourfeelingsinister said...

Oh the joys of pre-theatre. I don't consider them real customers anyway. When Women on the Edge of HRT was on recently we were inundated with erm, women on the edge of HRT. By the time the run was over we were ready to find out where Marie Jones lived and pay her a 'visit'. And yes Manuel, how dare you. Their timekeeping is obviously your responsibility.

B said...

hmph, when I was young we dreamed of having gravy that was any colour at all(our's was transparent... aka water).

B said...

people used to always think I was eastern european in the shop so they'd mime out shit.

Jenny said...

this is why I don't work with rude people and food.... I'd want to slip him something that would kick in just about the time his precious the-a-retard started.

How's your knee?

Trekkie said...

Perhaps adopting a pitying expression and a small shake of your head "Ah Sir, I saw that play last week .......it's crap" would have been a fun way to end his visit?

Anonymous said...

'My gravy is too brown'... Did he have some kind of Debrett's Etiquette-approved gravy shading index that helped him come to this conclusion? What a total tosser. Love Trekkie's suggestion by the way. That would be sooooooo tempting :-)

Anonymous said...

You know which plums he keeps in his mouth, though, don't you? The ones in his y-fronts. Self-pleasuring himself every time he hears himself say Thee-ah-ter.

"My gravy is too brown." That one tore me up.

Anonymous said...

But why is Conan wishing you happy birthday? I thought it was on November 4th, US election day?

If it wasn't - hope it was a happy one, hun!

Manuel said...

old k: good times, good times.....

struggling writer: Welcome and having just had a look at your blog you really are a struggling writer.ah yes pre-theatre menus. They ask for pre-theatre menus like they are special menus for special people and not cheap menus for cheap people.

b: I hear ya.....our gravy is just water with brown in it. Just the colour brown that is....

a.b: my knee like the rest of my body is just about hanging together.....just

trekkie: he was in no mood for jokes.....

jen: bwahahahahaha like a dulux card thingy.....

sam: you think you've heard them all...but then things like that happen. Yeah my birthday isn't for a few weeks yet....

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