bitter waiter

Clarissa annoys us all

The Bad Tipper of the Week award goes to Clarissa, a cloying show-biz mom who wasted my time last week with her precocious child actress daughter and token gay best friend, who spent the night texting, complaining about sauce, and impersonating a sassy black woman.

I knew things would go awry when Clarissa asked if we had queso dip. I said no. She seemed indignant and said that every other Mexican restaurant she'd ever been to (in Kentucky) had queso dip. I explained, in a tone used to potty train an infant, that our cuisine was more authentic Mexican (well...at least compared to Kentucky, where she was born and farmed).

This lack of tex mex set the tone for my entire experience with the Clarissa clan. Her fussy friend ordered his enchiladas without any sauce yet complained that his "beef was too dry" (I bit my tongue at his choice of words, while he rolled his around his lips). When I gave him the standard shrug and "Now you're hoist on your own petard" look, I could feel the Kentucky banjos play as Clarissa and co. displayed their anger.

"We'll take the check. Now."

Overjoyed with the anticipation of their exit, I'd already printed the bill and immediately set it on the table without missing a beat. Clarissa left a $5 tip on a $60 check.

I was, however, able to track down Clarissa via Google. It seems she has a Web site devoted to her goals, a Web site where other dreamers can send her well wishes and quote certain portions of "The Secret" to cheer her on. Enjoy this (my personal favorite is goal #4).

SHIT TIPPER OF THE WEEK AWARD

This week's award goes to Borzuyeh Hirmand, an ignorant cologne-soaked man with the tact and wit of a rabid hyena. Borzuyeh no doubt rapes little children, and one can't help but hope there's a Hell when considering his after life.

When I greeted the table and posited the obligatory-and-completely-insincere question "How are you all doing this evening," Borzuyeh bellowed back with "We're hungry and tired of waiting around for service. Drinks. Now."

I made it clear that I'd watched the host seat Borzuyeh and company (namely, three acne-stricken Armenian bitches with teeth gaps big enough to house a playground for dirty Persian orphans) and that he'd waited a whole 30 seconds for me to approach his table.

"Not looking for a timer, pal, just want some drinks."

"Uh huh," I replied.

Borzuyeh's entourage of ugly selected a predictable bottle of our "finest" white zinfandel.

"Which year?" I asked.

Not sensing my sarcasm, Borzuyeh impressed his bevy of boar-like babes with the tried-and-true classic, "Whichever's most expensive."

"And I want this," Borzuyeh stated while pointing vaguely in the direction of the margarita list.

I work in a barely lit restaurant. For the life of me, I had no idea which margarita the loser wanted. So I asked.

"Which margarita do you want?"

"THE ONE MY FUCKING FINGER'S ON..."

(blank look)

Borzuyeh proceeded to shove the menu in my face while informing me that he wanted a raspberry margarita, a libation that would no doubt fill the feeble minds of his gypsy slut fan club with questions about his hairy-back masculinity.

All throughout dinner and subsequent rounds of drinks, Borzuyeh didn't miss a chance to bring up the "menu incident" with his "blind server." I responded by glaring and clearing half-eaten plates without bothering to ask if Esmerelda and her sisters were finished consuming.

Thus, Borzuyeh Hirmand has the dubious distinction of winning the first-ever Shit Tipper of the Week Award.

BILL: $104.34

TIP: $5.66

PERCENT: approximately five percent