While I realize my posts aren't typically beacons of positivity, one of my ironic pet peeves is incessant negativity; more specifically, people who love to complain. I've got news for the downtrodden who love to broadcast your struggles to anyone who will listen: no one gives a shit. Everyone's carrying around a big bag of burdens unique unto themselves. You're trying to win an award for most stoic and put-upon? Spend a day in hunger-stricken Sub-Saharan Africa and then cry me a river, you tedious, negative narcissist.
A few days ago, Katrina dined in my section. She was hungry mostly for sympathy for her many woes, and I was fresh out of fucks. She was accompanied by two co-workers, both of whom seemed to merely tolerate Katrina instead of enjoy her company. She sat down mid-complaint, droning on and on about filing or something. She looked to me as if I could give a good goddamn fuck about filing.
"So I stayed an hour after work last night and it still didn't get done!" she bellowed.
"Hello," I said, "may I bring you anything to drink?"
"No one else has to file as much as I do," she continued. "No one else has the same work load as me."
Bitch you ARE my work load. Push pause on the pity party and stop wasting my time.
"I'd like an iced tea," her co-worker said, desperate to change the topic.
"A water for me, please," said the other entrapped diner.
"I want an iced tea," Katrina started, "but I've been sleeping so poorly from the caffeine, I should probably stick with water. And I'm sure I won't be getting any catch-up sleep tonight, because [her boss] will once again make me stay late to file. And my poor cats will be all alone until..."
"I'll be right back with your drinks," I interjected, and ran the fuck away.
I returned with the beverages, and Katrina was still singing woe is me. I interrupted once again to ask if they were ready to order, her co-workers shooting me discreet "HELP US" glances.
While the co-workers ordered quickly, Katrina hemmed and hawed over the menu. "Is the food good here?" she asked. "I'm not always easy to please," she explained.
"Mmm I can tell," I responded. "I never really know how to answer that question. So, yes, the food is good here."
Displeased with my answer, Katrina went on to regale us with a story about her most recent disappointing dining experience and how upset she was that the service staff didn't bend over backwards to rectify her dissatisfaction. Wanting to project my annoyance, I looked at my watch, fussed over my hair, and mouthed "I'll be right there, one sec," to a non-existent table. Katrina finally settled on a chicken caesar salad, which (SPOILER ALERT) she hated. But even before the food arrived, we had a problem.
"This water is too cold," Katrina said before I could run away and hide. "But I don't want tap water. Can you take the filtered water and put it in the microwave?"
My nostrils flared. "We don't have a microwave," I said indignantly. Cut to 10 minutes later, and Katrina settled on a cup of hot water with a side of ice cubs.
As expected, she hated her salad. "It's too salad-y and certain lettuces exacerbate my small intestinal bacterial overgrowth. I'll be feeling bad from this all day. Great."
THEN WHY DID YOU ORDER A SALAD, YOU RHODES SCHOLAR??
Katrina was just about to ask me if the chef would custom-make something, until her co-worker politely interjected. "I don't think we'll have time. We have to get back to work. Could you maybe get something at the commissary or order Postmates?"
Katrina looked at us as if we'd just Sophie's Choiced her into giving up a kid. With the weight of the world on her shoulders, a dejected Katrina left without lunch, complaining about it all the way out of the restaurant. Hopefully our inability to please her will result in her never, ever darkening my section again.
"It's too salad-y and certain lettuces exacerbate my small intestinal bacterial overgrowth."
WTeverlovingF? it's a FUCKING SALAD, moron! and NO ONE gives six fat fucks about your fucking intestine or your fucking job or YOU!
Posted by: anne marie | January 17, 2019 at 03:11 PM
I just came home after getting fired from my piece of shit restaurant and immediately went for two things - beer, and your blog. Thanks for the laughs.
Posted by: Tom D | January 14, 2019 at 08:32 PM
"Sophie's Choiced" hahahaha
Posted by: Bubba | January 14, 2019 at 06:41 PM
I hate people like that! Even though I got out of waiting tables, the woman next to me in my office complains about EVERYTHING. Even when she doesnt have work to do she complains about that WTF??
Posted by: Soph | January 14, 2019 at 03:10 PM