Living in Los Angeles, a city so consumed by its love for T.V. and film, one often forgets that people paint. But for those who equate creating with crazy, rest assured that most L.A. painters are just as insane as L.A. actors.
Hot on the heels of a gallery event, The Artist and his entourage sat in my section to celebrate. Everything about him was a shallow attempt to draw attention - brightly colored hair, overalls over a silk shirt, needless military boots, sunglasses indoors. While I was pleased to see that the group covered the gamut of gender fluidity and sexual orientation, I was less thrilled to see that they were horrible garbage. I was already in a mood, trying this new thing experts only recently discovered called "Not getting drunk at work."
"Hello, may I bring you anything to drink?" I asked.
"Bro I just sold everything at my exhibit," The Artist replied in a shout.
"Great! Anything to drink?" I repeated.
"Let's.....get.....champagne..........to celebrate," his friend Antigone offered lethargically, her only tone.
No one among the five of them wanted to pick a bottle, so I ordered one of the more expensive ones on their behalf. I was so jealous of their impending alcohol as I stood feening for everything from tequila to the rubbing alcohol in the first aid kit.
After draining two bottles of champagne, talking to each other in a volume too loud even for a sports arena, high-fiving, selfie-ing, and singing "Hey Jude" in its entirety to the annoyance of no one as much as me, they finally took a gander at the menu.
"Ewww," The Artist said. "We thought you all had some French options on the menu?"
"Because of the words 'grill' and 'bar' in the name of the restaurant?" I asked.
"We'll just grab food from somewhere else and bring it back here," he decreed.
"Great....idea...." Antigone said as the words slowly escaped from her lips with an absence of enthusiasm.
"Yeah, no," I replied. "These tables are reserved for guests dining here."
"But we ordered champagne," he countered.
"Yeeeeeeeah. No." I replied.
"Fine," The Artist said, scorned. "We'll take the check."
"Oh great!" I replied and plopped down the bill I'd already printed.
Thirty minutes later, the restaurant had an unusual late night pop, and we were on a wait. The Artist and company still hadn't paid their bill. After greeting my other guests and scrambling to turn in their food orders all at once just to piss off the egomaniacal chef, I noticed Antigone and her friend Saffrine eating TACO BELL in the booth.
"Hi yeah excuse me?" I said with a bitchiness only available to me through work place sobriety. "First of all, that's food from another restaurant, even though I said that's not allowed."
"And?" The Artist replied.
"How is the French cuisine at Taco Bell?" I snarled.
"Are you telling us what we can and can't eat?" The Artist said irrationally and indignantly.
"I'm telling you where you can and can't eat food from another establishment," I replied.
And then. Without any sort of warning. The artist dramatically swiped everything off the table. The salt and pepper shakers. The empty champagne bottle. The Taco Bell. Antigone's ineffective antidepressants. The manager looked over and, hoping I didn't see him see me, looked away as to avoid being called into action.
The Artist's entourage scurried to pick up their belongings and followed him out of the restaurant. Not only did they not tip; they did not pay their bill. When the manager meekly told me I'd have to pay their bill, I simply said the word "attorney," and he comped it.
Ever the dramatic one, I played up the events of my time with The Artist to my surrounding tables, enjoying their pity tips. And when one table offered to buy me a shot of tequila, I knew I'd earned it.
A good friend of mine wait tables here in New Hope, and the similar thing always happens. When people leave and ditch the bill, they make him pay the bill. I was shocked to hear that!!!! How is that fair and their fault, that their customer was an asshole?
Posted by: Mistress Borghese | February 09, 2020 at 12:15 PM
I hope their comped bill didn’t have 3 rather than 2 champagne bottles on it...
Posted by: Usual suspect | October 09, 2019 at 10:12 AM
OMG...ok, so like I hope you don't bring outside food to my establishment honey...you are absolute hilarious.
Posted by: Dianne Westgate | October 09, 2019 at 09:38 AM