A Note To The Heartless Server That Ignored All Of My Requests

Today my grandmother died, let’s be real. I get that this should mean absolutely nothing to you. But, at the very least, I expect you to ask to refill my drink—at a pinky’s full—according to the manager of YOUR own bar; however, you did NOT oblige…for a solid FOUR hours.

Funny, you only chose to wait on me when you expected me to close my tab—two instances: when I zipped-up my laptop case, as well as when I specifically asked you to close the damn thing.

And, much to my (not) surprise at this point, I could see the sheer and utter excitement in your eyes at the thought of me leaving your two-top table (which had only been housing “one” for quite some time) when I asked for the check.

So, I gave you the $100 tip—Why? Because, I kind of felt like an asshole for “depriving” you of a two-person tip, and I kind of expected better service from my neighborhood bar (and, well…yeah, I wanted you to feel bad for me because my grandmother died today and you didn’t even bother to ask how I was doing, let alone, bring me another beer).

So—I will be real, I am a woman and I had a shitty day—but, still, I have AND will always expect good service in an area where they pay $10+ an hour to wait on my f*cking table (PLUS, generous tips—LIKE MY OWN).


On a side note, and, in my defense: I only got paid $2.13/hour + tips to wait tables in college in the Southeast. Just saying—I have NO mercy for you because I survived off of that for five years, so here we are—you’re screwed (I get it, I get it—you live in LA), but, I know I am right—you can make it work.

So, back to my story, said waiter accepts my $100 tip (on a $40 tab—along with no regard for my snarky note) when he did absolutely NOTHING for me but gave me solid pro-tips on how to perfect my eye-roll.

I (at the very least) expected him to come up to me with an apology after closing out his credit card receipts; however, he simply high-fived his Hispanic wait staff (whom took care of me all night and will see nothing of my $100 tip) and trotted out the door with his god-awful love handles and hipster glasses.

So, please enlighten me…is this America? Or, am I really just having a shitty day? Thought Catalog Logo Mark

carolina meets california. innovative marketing enthusiast. addicted to anything that plays on the emotions. amateur storyteller. collector of coats & broken hearts.

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