As restaurant owners, there are just so many things to hate about customers, that the list is endless. Here are just nine...
That doesn't mean we actually hate all of you, just most of you and the crap you do and put us through on a daily basis. Of course if it weren't for you, the customer, we would have no reason to exist. But nonetheless we love you, love to hate you, and need your money. So here's a listof some of the top reasons we have to hate you.
When the owner finally gets a break from babysitting all the employees, writing paychecks, checking deliveries, filling shifts for doped up cooks who can't get off the sofa and come to work, to answering phone calls from yet another salesman who has the most bestest new thing or ad campaign there ever was, or trying to find the dishwasher who some smartass sent out to sweep and mop the parking lot, we finally get a chance to actually make the rounds and say hello to you at your table.
We are happy to see you, glad that you chose us instead of that other douchebag down the street, and want you to feel welcome. What we don't want is to engage in a conversation where you feel you must know everything there is to know about us. Really, we're not that interesting; we're just people doing a job, although we did create it for ourselves. We put our pants on just the same way you do, well, I might do it a little differently, but to hit a table and be bombarded with a million questions that are really not a whole lot of your business, becomes as annoying as having an icepick thrust in your ear while you're being hit over the head with a brick wrapped in tinfoil with a twist of lime.
It doesn't matter where I am from. It doesn't matter how long I've lived here, or how I learned my trade. You can ask how the brisket is tonight, but that's a stupid question because I'm the owner and I'm going to make sure it is as good as it was the last time you were here, so just shut up and order it.
See above for how some of your questions feel to us.
It doesn't really matter to your meal how long my wife and I have been married, and frankly it's none of your god damned business because in reality were not really married. And I'll be dipped in shit if I'm gonna tell you my recipes or methods. You people ask the weirdest crap.
So let's say we see 100 people a day, and each one chains us to their table with their wildest curiosities and fires 20 questions at us and doesn't listen to the answer to each one before shooting another. It's like god damn, is this a job interview, or are we on a date or something?
That's like two thousand fucking responses we have to come up with each day. Stop it! We just want to make sure you're happy and that your meal is good.
The Spanish inquisition was over a long, long time ago.
Actually your non-stop questions remind me of taking an MMPI. (you won't like this at all, I've done a few and may need to take one again)
Somehow at some point in the growth of society the gas station became the greatest place on earth (or the only place) to stop and take a dump while out traveling, and somehow the owners of such came to accept it. Somewhere along the line people forgot how to park along the side the road, run into the brush, and take a pee. Then McDonald's and Burger king came along, and people began to figure out that since they were so god damn busy, no one would notice if they just popped in real quick, took a poop and left without making a purchase. This then developed into the belief that all restaurants are actually happy to have you use their facilities without you spending so much as a lousy dime.
AN ACTUAL DIME!
Well believe it or not, we're not one of those fast food joints and we do notice it when you stop just to stink up our restrooms and leave, and every time you do it, a little part inside of us dies and we are left wanting to kill you, or at least call the cops for theft of services and products.
Me: "Hello 911, this guy just came in, stole 8 feet of toilet paper, wiped his ass with it and threw it my toilet. Then he took a handful of soap rubbed it on his smelly hands, and washed it down my sink. Then the fucker took another 8 feet of hand towels and threw them in the trash. Then he just left, and didn't even bother to flush. And when I went to flush it, the turd was so big and solid, it wouldn't go down.
*photo deleted for your protection*
911: So, what do you want us to do?
Me: I don't know, but I feel like I've been robbed, humiliated, and I had to make the dishwasher pick the turd out of the toilet. Can I shoot him?
911: No Sir,you can't shoot him, and there's really nothing we can do about this. There is no law against a party of 8 busting through your doors, marching through the dining room, disturbing your guests, and trashing your restrooms.
Me: Fuck you! There oughta be.
People, you need to realize there is not one free thing that comes off that Sysco truck when it backs up to our doors. They don't come hauling in an industrial sized box of butt ribbon and announce, hey this one is on us this week! They don't do it with the steaks, roasts, toothpicks or the hand soap. We have to pay for everything. So the next time you stop into a restaurant just to pinch off a loaf, keep all this in mind, and at least help contribute to our bottom line, even if you only buy the cheapest thing on the whole fucking menu, because if you don't, in all actuality, you are indeed stealing.
Which brings us to the next thing we hate about you.
One thing a restaurant owner hates more than anything is thieves. We have a hard enough time trying to keep the pot head dishwashers and cooks from walking everything in the place out the back door when we're not looking. Some employees find themselves relating to Johnny Cash's song "One piece at a time" wherein 'Ol Johnny gets a job at GM, and steals the parts slowly and builds himself a Cadillac over several years one piece at a time.
It doesn't matter if it's just a little this, that, or a whole freakin' bottle of Jack Daniels, we hate employees stealing from us, and we hate you even more for it.
Let's face it, most of you are thieves. You'll steal any god damned thing in a restaurant that isn't nailed down. The salt shakers, the sugar packets, the entire stack of little jellies on the table, all that shit ends up in your pockets and purses. These things are not presents for you to take home. (Reference sysco truck mentioned above)The same goes for the silverware, linen napkins, and the god damn menu. The menu is not a fucking souvenir people. Leave it at the restaurant when you go. And for Pete's sake, please put that extra roll of TP back in the restroom where you found it! I mean if you can afford to dine out, you can afford your own ass wipe.
I'm not sure why thise showed up when I did a google image search for "stealing salt shakers" but I thought I'd toss it in anyway.
People who can't afford to dine out. AKA cheapskates.
For the love of god people, if you have to save all your pennies, nickels and dimes all week in order to enjoy a night out, just save them and put it towards your next bag of weed or possibly a new toy for the cat. We don't really need you. You actually end up costing us more than your business is worth, and I'll prove it to you slobs who don't believe it.
First when asked what you would like to drink, you respond: Nothing, we'll just have water.
Me: You'll just have water?
Me: What are you going to do with it?
Couple: Drink it!
Me: Well, that would be something to drink then wouldn't it?
Them: Deer in the headlights stare.
Ok, so I buy sodas at say 50cents a piece and charge $1.75. Two times 1.75 is $3.50 minus cost, which brings our first step to a loss of $3.00. Let's also add the fact that the ice machine doesn't make ice for free, and neither is the water. Chances are they will want free lemon with their water as well. Lemons aren't cheap these days if you haven't noticed. Ok, so there's another 50 cents I just took in the ass, plus I can't even figure what the ice and water cost me, but let's guess a dime when it's all said and done.
So we haven't really even gotten started, but by my projected food sales I'm already $3.60 behind.
It really helps the bottom line when folks enjoying themselves out order an appetizer. Well these two aren't going to, we know that already. There's $10 bucks we didn't take in. Now we're $13.60 behind in what we project to help pay for heat, AC, ascap fees, insurance, food costs, unemployment insurance, workers comp, payroll, utilities, etc. Oh yeah, and some bucks to pay for a new freezer to replace the one that died right on its warranty expiration date.
Ok you butt holes, I just can't wait to see what's next.
Let's get their order.
Me: What would you like for dinner?
Them: We'll have the number 7, pulled pork sandwich. Yeah I know what the number 7 is, I own the place.
Me: Ok two number 7's
Them: No A number 7, we're going to split it.
Me: (to myself) Fuck me to tears!
Ok, a number 7 is $9.95. I expect each customer to order their own dinner or sandwich. So two dinners at $9.95 would equal $19.90. We just lost an expected sale by another $9.95 bringing our total expected sales to a loss of $13.55.
They split dinner, leaving two glasses which didn't earn any money, and an extra plate that won't wash its own ass. That's five seconds or so of the dishwasher's time to rinse them, another two seconds to load them in the machine, the energy needed to run the machine, the water used, the detergent needed etc. I'm not going to break down $7.25 an hour into seconds. Get over it, but it all costs something.
They enjoy their meager meal, and now it's time to pay. They really have no money, so they'll put it on their credit card, which they can't afford and can hardly make the minimum payment. (You can tell by their 1975 Pinto wagon) And you can sure as hell bet there will be zero tip on the tip line.
So, all in all with an anticipated sale of $33.40 we are left with a sale of $9.95 before taxes, leaving us at at a projected loss of $23.45. And we haven't even got to the credit card yet. Which leads us to number---
Credit card companies say that people will spend more when using credit cards than cash. They tell you that time and time again. Not so true this time is it?
So there you are standing proudly at the register holding your American express credit card that gives you 2% cash back or whatever, and a million airline miles for every purchase that you can never find a flight to use them for.
Do you really think your bank or American express loves you so much that they are willing to dig into their vast profits and give you free money just because you bought something with their excessively usuriously rated credit card? Pay attention here, the answer is a definitive hell no!
When you use your credit card, at whatever merchant you are at, he gets charged a processing fee of like a quarter or so for every transaction. On top of that, the CC company whacks another 1.9% of the total sale and sticks that in their slimy pocket. And that fucking 2% that you are going to receive back from your purchase? They rob that from the merchant too. Yes dumbshit, the merchant has to pay your stupid 2%, and there isn't a farkin' thing they can do about it.
So let's go back to our cheapskate couple who got out of the building at $9.95, then used their AE card to pay. Their purchase cost 25 cents to process, then add in the 19 cents the bank took for their percentage fee, then whack out another 19 cents for their fucking 2% cash back, and that adds up to another .63 cents lost, which isn't really true because you have to factor in American express's monthy service and contract fees that no one will ever figure out how to calculate.
So, on our projected sale of $33.40, of which we need every cent to stay afloat, we are left with a whopping take of $9.63.
It's said by the professional bean counters that after the sales, wages and bills are paid, that a pretty well run restaurant will profit about a nickel on every dollar. So thank you American express 2% cash back asshat, you just ate up our .49 cent profit with your fucking .63 cent credit card charges. This is another reason why we truly hate you, you piece of garbage. Speaking of garbage, here is another reason us restaurant owners hate you.
What is it with you traveling douchewads anyways? You drive for miles upon miles with sacks of to go boxes and starbuck's cups, plus dirty diapers, used car batteries and all kinds of other unrecognizable shit in your car.
You then stop at a restaurant just hoping to use the restroom and flee. But before doing so, you gather up all this trash and strut through the front door with your arms full of it, looking for a place inside the building to dispose of it. What's with you all? Couldn't you find a dumpster somewhere to get rid of all this crap??? Why didn't you just dump it where you bought it? You people order food and instead of eating right there, you take it to go, sit in the parking lot eating it, then drive off into the sunset with all your garbage sitting right there on your floor boards. You're all idiots. Why didn't you throw it away right then and there when you were done? But no, you have to drive a million miles to another restaurant, dispose of the trash there, plus the food that was in it that's now needing to be violently released from your smelly ass. God, we hate you and your smelly assed garbage. Speaking of smell, here's another reason restaurant owners hate you.
Look people, we spend a fair amount of time throwing out your garbage, cleaning your shit out of the restrooms and trying to make our places smell delicious, warm and inviting. Most people like this, that is except you. For some reason, whether it's that you forgot to bathe, or just fell into a giant heap of cow dung, you somehow believe that before you enter a fine dining establishment you need to pour a gallon of patchouli over your head. If it's not patchouli then it's something very reminiscent of black flag or Lysol. You walk through the door, and suddenly no one can concentrate or taste their food. You just smelled the whole place up with your selfish desire to smell like burning tires or something.
A famous comedian once said, if you like the smell of something, put it on your finger and shove it up your nose. That way you can smell it all day and we don't have to.
Have you ever tried eating a succulent T-bone steak while someone is spraying febreeze in your face? It really sucks and makes a 20 dollar steak worth about 8 cents.
So, doll up your hair, put on some makeup and a pretty dress to look nice, that's all fine, but nice is not how people should smell, people shouldn't smell nice. In fact people shouldn't smell like anything. They shouldn't smell like flowers, nor should they smell like bug killer. They shouldn't smell like anything. So before you go out to to eat, think of others and ask yourself if you really want everyone to know you're there because of the fact that you stink?
What the hell are you doing going out to eat when you hate everything and have a certain death allergy to everything else? Seriously, we don't want to hear about it, and that's another reason we hate you.
You come in, read the menu, then make us spend the next half hour reading every box and jar of dressing in the place looking for that one thing that you say will kill you like something that vaporizes rats on contact.
Ok, so you're lactose intolerant, allergic to peanuts, or have issues with gluten, I can understand that I guess. But just because you don't like something don't make it a major fucking production, just pick it off your plate and shut the hell up. But please don't sit there and make me think that if you even get close to a kumquat that you will spontaneously combust. No one on God's green earth has ever been allergic to a kumquat or a bell pepper for that matter.
They say at a particular fast food place that you can have it your way, but you really can't can you? Have you ever pulled into that fast food drive through and asked for no onions or pickles on your burger? You will be inventively asked to go park in the lot while they call a semi from Ohio somewhere to specially drive in a burger without pickles and onions, therefore wasting not only your lunch hour but possibly your entire week. Well the same thing goes for most restaurants. It's like ordering a side of bacon, then telling us to hold the fat because you're allergic to it, or you're on some newfangled fat free diet. Fuck you, bacon comes with all the fat and that's all there is to it.
If you don't like something, don't order it. But don't try and make us serve you cream of mushroom soup without mushrooms, or make us turn the pork chop special into a Peking duck because your faith won't let you eat cloven hoofed animals on Saturday.
And any of you asshole vegetarians who come into a BBQ joint looking for a vegetarian meal can just plain kiss my ass. You're the same type of people who got smoking banned in bars, then stay home sipping some sort of wine from out of a box. Screw you, and anyone who looks like you. You get it our way or you don't get it at all. We don't care what you don't like or are allergic to. It's not up to us to figure all that shit out for you, it's your damn job, and if you can't do it, then just stay home and enjoy your soy milk, your peanut free peanuts, and your box of vegetarian ribs.
Yes, they really do exist!!!
Here's a fun filled fact for you all. Just about anyone can make a freakin' baby. The real art in life is having totally fantastic sex without having a screaming, yelling, pooping, crying parasite crawl out of your crotch 9 months later. It's really nothing to be proud of, and no one really wants to see or hear it in public.
Unless you're going out to barfy's happy burgers and funhouse, leave the damn kids at home with a sitter or grandma. If you can't do that, then just duct tape them to a kitchen chair, or throw them in a closet. But don't drag their tired, hungry, worn out asses into a public dining facility to torture the hell out of otherwise unsuspecting or undeserving patrons.
You remember years ago when you were sitting in that cramped sardine can traveling at 500 hundred miles an hour, 30,000 feet in the sky, begging for more peanuts and another beer? There was that kid who just wouldn't shut up, or quit crying. You we're thinking to yourself if everyone else wouldn't get sucked out of the aircraft, you'd just open the door and throw the damn thing out into the wild blue. Remember that?
How about the time, never mind it's not all that important. The fact of the matter that it's now your noisy aggravating spoiled brat throwing food, screaming, and running all over the restaurant, doesn't make it any more special for any of us. It's not cute, or even funny. If you can't keep your children under control, just don't take them out until you can. Or maybe just leave them in the car with the windows rolled up.
You know it, I know it and everyone else knows it. No one likes loud, out of control, bawling crotch spawn ruining their meal when dining out.
Oh, and here's another courtesy tip for you asshats with your ever pooping yard apes. Any form of shit smells. Whether it comes from you, your dog, or your precious unique little snowflake, Do not, I repeat do not throw it's putrid diaper in the trash can in the dining room. I mean really, what the fuck's wrong with you? We already know that you don't think your shit stinks, but you don't think your boobie gobbling vomit monster's does? Oh, that's right, you can't smell it because you've got patchouli stuffed up your nose.
And the last reason we really hate you.....
Absolutely nothing pisses off owners or the help more than an 8 top that shows up unannounced at one minute before closing time shouting woo-hoo, we just made it!!!!
Look you morons, we've been here all day. Some of us have been here quite a few hours before we even opened. You've had all day long to come in and eat, and believe me everybody is ready to close up and go home. We're tired, the kitchen has already begun to shut down, and most of the food for the day is gone.
Please understand, we love your money just as much as the next guy, and we're not going to shoo you away, but for fuck's sake, now everyone is going to have to stay late and that means employees have to be paid extra to do it. You've also screwed up plans that some of us have made for when we get off. (such as getting drunk , getting thoroughly wasted, or porking a waitress)
Not only that, but now you're going to piss and moan when we tell you the entire menu is not available and we limit your options. And what's even worse is that your self-entitled asses are going to want to start with cocktails and appetizers, followed by your meal, and desert, and to top it all off you'll think nothing about sitting around bullshitting for an hour after you're done. And what's even better? ABSOLUTELY NONE OF YOU FUCKERS WILL LEAVE A TIP WHATSOEVER!
Think of it as just getting into your jammies, turning on the tube, climbing into your bed, settling in, and having John Belushi and Chris Farley barge into your room with a pound of cocaine, and ass raping you.