The One Good Table Last Night

I had one good table out of all of my tables last night. I was so pissed over the lady and her barbecue sauce that I totally forgot to talk about this one table.

An older gentleman came in. I was in the back, so one of my co-workers said, “You’ve got someone at table twelve.” She had already set him up with his menu and gotten his drink order, so she passed his order along to me. It was water with three slices of lemon. I thought, “Oh great, a one top that orders water. There goes a good tip.” But when I went to the table took take his order, I started to realize I could be wrong. He was very pleasant, and asked for my recommendation. I told him about two dishes that I like, and he ordered one of them with a side of onion rings. When I brought out his order, he smiled and thanked me. When I went to do my check-up on him, he requested more napkins. I offered to bring him some wet-naps along with the napkins, and he said, “That would be great,” with a smile. I went to check on him again, and by this time he had finished his meal. I offered him dessert. He ordered plain vanilla ice cream. See, the guy was so nice, I decided to give him two scoops instead of just one. I brought his ice cream out and said, “I enjoyed serving you so much I gave you an extra scoop.” He smiled and said, “Well, thank you!” I wasn’t sucking up to get a better tip, I was just expressing that I had actually enjoyed serving him because he was so nice and polite. I then went, rang up his bill, took it to him, collected his payment and then promptly brought back his change. When I went back up to the cash register, this is when the call came from Cuntwad McBitchyson (see the link above). This man witnessed the whole thing and could see that I was upset by the fact that someone was treating me like a dog when I didn’t even make a mistake, I was just following her instructions. I felt ashamed that I had made a bit of a scene in front of him and I got to thinking that my tip probably diminished because he had seen me get angry over the call.

It didn’t.

The sandwich he ordered cost $7.95. The ice cream was 99 cents. He had water so there was no charge for his drink, which brought him to a grand total, with state sales tax, of $9.48. After he had left and I wished him a good night, I went to clean his table and found a $5.00 bill.

It felt so good to have my hard work acknowledged. I’m sitting here wondering if maybe he only tipped that much because he witnessed how upset I was with being accused of not doing my job right when in fact, I was only guilty of taking the order as the customer directed. Maybe he knew I’m good at my job and felt bad that one bitchy customer could get me that upset. Or maybe he just tips that well all the time (he said at the beginning of his meal that he had never eaten there before). I don’t know. Whatever the reason, here’s to you, Mr. Brightened-Up-My-Night.

 

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