12. Witnessing violence

I was a host at Bennigan’s. Two couples sit in the smoking section. All seems to be going well, the men are on the inside of the table, women on the outside. Their appetizers come out, and the women start laughing loudly about something. Not sure what was said, but next thing I know, one of them men stands up in the booth, screams “BITCH!” at the top of his lungs, and backhands her to the floor. The booths in this area are elevated, so she fell hard at least 5 feet.

She’s crying and cowering, the servers and managers are starting to notice something is wrong, and I’m aghast, having seen the whole exchange. The man then grabs his woman by the hair and drags her out kicking and screaming, the other couple following sheepishly. Myself, another host, a couple servers, and a manager follow them out to try and keep them from leaving – not only did he just assault a woman in our store, but they’re skipping their check. All four people pile into the same SUV, peel out of the parking lot, almost run over a server, and disappear into the night. We of course called the police, but no result.

13. I love MY job

I’ve had drinks thrown on me, been called a stupid bitch (for charging someone for two shots…when they ordered a double), had to clean up baby puke and dirty diapers, been stiffed on $200+ tabs, and deal with rude and cheap customers daily.
I love my job…

14. Paying for pleasure

One night I was serving an extremely feeble-looking old man (probably around 85-90) and his two middle-aged children. The old man ate a big bowl of Manhattan Chowder and one glass of red wine while his children were busy eating their meals. Not 30 seconds after finishing his last spoonful of soup he stood up, as did his daughter who had a worried expression on her face.

The man took three steps towards the washroom, then turned and took a couple steps toward the (much closer) patio doors. At this point, his withered body convulsed and he projectile vomited a mix of stomach acid, fish, clams, and tomato broth, all mixed with red wine, all over the tile floor.

I rushed over to see if they were alright, and the woman ushered her father to the washroom. The son asked for the bill and I brought it. At this point I went and got the mop bucket. When I got back to within sight of the table, the family was on its way out of the restaurant and I started mopping up the putrid-smelling mess.
As I was wheeling the bucket back towards the back of the restaurant, one of the wheels got caught on something, turned sideways, and got caught on the edge of a tile. At this point, the bucket, filled with mop water and vomit, kept its momentum going and tipped over, dumping all the vomit from before, but now with four times the volume (due to all the mop water), all over the tile floor.

I looked up and saw a few of the servers staring, stone-faced, at me and the vomit-inducing 30sqft puddle of partially chewed fish, puke, and wine. Quite exasperated by the situation I just sighed and said it was okay to laugh, which they immediately did.

And the kicker. 10 minutes later I’d finally finished re-mopping up the mess, I went to reset the table for the next guests and opened up the billfold, where I discovered $70 for a $69.90 bill. Not only did I get to clean up all the vomit twice, I had to (in effect) pay to do so (as you have to tip out 5% of your sales to the house, roughly $3.50 for this particular bill).