If you're a long-time reader, you've no doubt read my multiple rants regarding birthdays in restaurants.
I have no qualms with people enjoying their big day with dinner and drinks; I'm happy serving a birthday dessert with candles and a polite amount of well-wishing; If you're nice, I'll even try to score you a free drink (only fair, as your server is already half in the bag).
However, for those who see their birthday as a rare holiday, a day that demands pampering from all, a 24-hour period void of consequence or limitation? You, sir or madam, may fuck right off.
I recently lost my shit with a young couple because the she of the two was celebrating her birthday. They'd sat in my booth during a busy dinner shift without ordering anything except two hot teas. When I checked back to see if they were ready to order (which I did precisely every 10 minutes), she would say, "We're still not ready. I'm just enjoying my birthday." As if the fact that she was born - LIKE LITERALLY EVERY BEING ON THIS PLANET - meant she could bend the rules of commerce and command a booth for hours on end without ordering anything (Earl Grey does not count).
Finally, once I was given permission by my manager, I told them they'd have to order or leave.
"We're actually not ordering anything?" she said, adding, "and I think it's really, really rude the way you've been harassing us."
Hearing her admit what we'd all known all along, that there would never be a dinner order, sent me into a bitch fit.
"Harassing you?" I asked after placing my hand on my hip. "I work in a restaurant. My job is to take orders and serve food. You are in a dining-only section. How is me doing my job harassing you?"
"It's my birthday," she countered. "Can't you just chill and let us sit here?"
"No," I said, "because even on your birthday, this is still how I make my living. Do you know how often someone comes in here on their birthday? Daily, and multiple times a day. So, unfortunately the rule still stands. Order food, or pay for your teas and leave."
"You're charging us for the teas?!" her boyfriend asked incredulously.
"You did order them, yes?" I asked.
"Yes but..." he searched.
"...it's her birthday?" I said.
"Well...yeah," he said.
"Happy Birthday," I said as I set down the bill.
I stomped off to the server's station to vent into my vodka. When I came back, the birthday couple had left without paying. I raced out of the restaurant and into the parking structure, determined to hunt them down. Alas, they escaped.
So. Let today's rant serve as a warning to those who expect to stroll on into my section and break my back because you were born. You didn't save a life. You didn't rid the world of a deadly disease. You haven't displayed some exceptional skill. No, instead you were taught that the world owes you something because you're special. Well here's a special birthday greeting from me to you: NO ONE GIVES A FUCK THAT IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY. WE ALL HAVE ONE. DO YOU SHOW OTHER BIRTHDAY PEOPLE THE SAME ATTENTION YOU DEMAND FOR YOURS? NO? THEN GO SUCK ON A TEABAG AND LET THE REST OF US FUNCTION AS GROWN ADULTS YOU HORRIBLE BITCH.