I hear hurricanes a blowin...

I know the end is comin soon...

Just a quick note on Wilma, heading straight for all my family in south Florida while I sit here 80 degrees not a cloud in the sky here in the panhandle. Hope all goes well, and the storm fades before getting to y'all.

That being said, I will get back to restaurant work. I have seen many people fired in my time in, but none compares to "Seth." Seth went out like any burnt out waiter would want to exit the "biz." By getting revenge on the rude fuc....AHEM....the GUEST! There is ALWAYS the potential to get stiffed any time that you walk up to a table or guest. Anything goes wrong, and it is almost always reflected in your tip. Often times the guest generously forgives you, other times they don't. If you get everything screwed up in their order, make mistakes, send out the wrong dish, then it is your fault. Dinner takes too long to arrive? Usually the kitchen's fault. Guests sat at a filthy table? Usually the host or bussers. Your place doesn't have the guests favorite booze? The owners. The big bar/restaurant I worked at was such a place. The place had ONE brand of beer! ONE! "Their" house beer, which was really Schaeffers, regular or light on draft. NOTHING in bottles, just O'Douls non-alcoholic beer. Thing was too, they served TONS of this crap every damn day. Use a GIANT 32 oz mug preferably chilled and fill it with an amber liquid that resembles beer, charge $4.25 for it, and hey, the guest leaves happy. We also had the hardest time getting the boss to buy hard liquor that didn't come in very large 1.5 liter jugs that only homeless alcoholics had ever heard the brand name of. This is in the mid 90's, so right in the middle of the whole micro-brew craze and the release of major brands like Stoli O, Ketel One, Grey Goose, etc. So finally the owner wanted to build and make a few repairs and his good ol' boy construction worker pal he has known and used for decades, wanted to drink Knob Creek bourbon after work. The damn burst, and loads of good brands flowed in. But not a single beer more. Also verboten was the "shot" liquors - Jager, Goldschlager, Rumpleminze, After Shock and all of their ilk. Management's excuse was that they just didn't want to fool with 22 year old kids vomiting all over the place which happened all the time anyway when they overdrank their crappy "house" beer.
SO! Back to Seth. Seth was a waiter in our upstairs room, which around 9pm turned into a Piano bar. Complete with the fat bald dude singing bawdy versions of songs, taking requests, earning tips, and drinking his ass off. In to Seth's station walks a group of frat boy types and they start asking about the beers that we have. Seth tells them the deal, and says that they can have a 32 oz glass for $4.25, and frat boys are happy....For now. After ordering a second round, they ask for some jagers "We don't carry that."...goldschlager..."nope," etc...Once again he explains the deal, that we have no "shot" liquors and suggests some Absolut Lemon Drops. They do a few of those, and before you know it, their bill is over $100. Seth brings the bill, they pay in cash, and as they are almost out the door, Seth notices that they have written a big "You SUCK!" on the bill and left him a pile of their pocket change as his tip.

Now at the end of the Saturday night rush is not the time to do this to someone who has been working non-stop since 11am. Add to it, the fact that Seth, along with many of the staff, have had a few shots of whatever the bartender has handed out.

The pile of change was not a small one by any means except when you compare it percentage wise with the bill. A few dollars tip on the over $100 tab. Six guys, whitey white rich looking.
Seth looks at it, and snaps. He grabs the pile of change, runs right over to our balcony, opens the doors and spots them ready to cross the street deciding which of the many neighborhood bars was next. It may have ended here except in their loaded "invincible" state they were loudly bragging and laughing about what they had just done. So Seth does what any burnt out, half loaded waiter does at midnight on a Saturday after rude treatment.

"HEY GUYS!!" (The guys look around, then up at Seth, mounting surprise and fear in their eyes.) "FUCK YOU!!" Then Seth throws the big handful of change at them as they scatter to the four winds. He would have gotten away with it too, except that one of the frat boys called the next day and told his side of the story to the management and Seth was no longer a waiter. Some tables you can just feel the Bad Moon Rising.

The funniest part was that sitting outside the restaurant every damn day of the year, all four seasons was one of those street singer/guitar-playing guys who happily picked up every penny.