A girl I barely know* asked if I would "take good care" of her friends who were in town visiting because they insisted on dining at "some place really cheap and really fun."
Now, I hate to complain.
Now, I don't mean to sound ungrateful.
Now, it's not my wish to speak ill of a friend of an acquaintance.
Fuck me blind-folded with paper cuts in a shark tank, they were annoying. And I'm left wondering if it was their intention to be so tedious as to guarantee a place on the blog (which I'm not sure they read, but now I'm sincerely hoping they do) or if they were just born that bitchy. Either way, they made my eyes roll so far back in my head I could see my conception.
"Tina," who could stand to lose 20 lbs. and about 10 decibels, squealed to me that she was so excited to receive the "V.I.P. treatment."
Now, I'm not sure exactly what kind of V.I.P. treatment she was expecting based on the recommendation of my barely-an-acquaintance? But it would be akin to me sending a group of my gay friends to Rick Santorum for a pampering spa weekend.
Thus, Tina gave me a doe-eyed look and inquired, "So what kind of deal are we getting???"
"Uhm," I began with the least welcoming look since Madonna greeted Lady Gaga backstage at Saturday Night Live. "I can charge you for house margaritas but will tell the bartender to make them triples with a strong amount of tequila?"
"Oh..." Tina sullenly replied. "I guess we were thinking free drinks or something a lot better than just a strong drink..."
Bitch I just met you. You haven't so much as said "Hello, how's your day?" I hardly even know the girl who referred you to me. You and I didn't go to school together. You're not a friend of my family. I've never worked with you. We've never been drunk together. The only thing I know about you is that you corset yourself in tight yellow T-shirts from American Apparel, you sound like one of the Chipettes, and you wear your entitlement on your stretched sleeve. And yet you expect me to roll out the red carpet because you came to one of the most expensive U.S. cities and I should feel so honored that you put me on your budget bullseye for a Groupon experience? Yeah. Go diddle yourself.
"I'm sorry," I replied. "Did [acquaintance] tell you that I'd be providing everything for free? Because there's no way I can do that. I'm a waiter, not the manager."
"Oh..." Tina sullenly replied. "Well then maybe we'll just have a quick snack and go somewhere a little friendlier."
"Heh," I said. "Let me know when you're ready to order."
Accompanying Tina were two college-aged girls and one very bored hipster male, who was either angry at Tina, angry at me, or angry at the Heavens above for making this fanny-pack-sporting band of tourists his lot in life.
I returned to the table with four waters.
"Sigh. Fine," Tina said.
"Oh you're leaving!?" I said with ecstatic urgency.
"Uhm. No..." Tina replied. "We'll just go ahead and order. I guess my friend thought she was doing us a favor by recommending you, but..."
"Yeah I should thank her for sending you my way," I replied. "So you're ready to order?"
Tina dismissively and angrily ordered the large steak nachos with extra cheese (duh) and four "cheap" margaritas. I asked for the I.D. of the teenage hipster creature, as he couldn't have been a flannel shirt size over 18. Upon his inability to furnish I.D., I said I'd be back with three margaritas.
Tina said, "Wow, what an asshole" as I walked off.
I returned with three virgin margaritas and the nachos shortly thereafter.
"It tastes like there's no alcohol in this drink?" Tina said.
"Oh," I said. "That's just how the cheap ones taste."
"Uhm..." Tina started. "I thought you were going to at least tell the bartender to make them stronger for us?"
"I was," I replied. "But when I told him that you called me an 'asshole,' he wasn't as compliant as expected."
"Wow...Do you think I could speak with the manager?" Tina said immediately.
"Sure," I said. "Let me just tell him that you called me an asshole," I replied and walked off.
Just as I was fetching the manager, who averted my gaze the minute he saw me walking towards him, I caught Tina and her posse hurrying out the front door. I told the manager that I was harassed and called names, and he told me I'd still have to pay their bill. I dropped the word "illegal" and found myself minutes later feasting on Tina's untouched steak nachos and drinking a concealed margarita in a kid's cup. A strong margarita. A free margarita. A margarita that I always give to friends and family.
*Sorry. I warned you that if your friends misbehaved they'd be fodder for my blog. I hope this doesn't adversely influence the infrequent nature of our minimal interaction at the gym I barely attend.