telophase | The party

The party

You can rest assured that I've forgotten several details and the exact timing of the whole restaurant experience; it was almsot 24 hours ago and ... well, there was subsequent bar-attending, so the evening is a bit hazy.

So, ok, Saturday night I'm at this very small party celebrating a friend's upcoming marriage. I suppose you'd technically call it a bachelorette party except that term just ... isn't us. And we certainly didn't make the bride-to-be wear a veil or decorate herself in tacky, tasteless things like the two brides we saw later on in the evening at the bar. For which she was very grateful.

So we go to eat at the Fox and Hound in downtown Fort Worth prior to heading to the bar. This is a place where a couple of us eat regularly and never have any problems. We find a table - it's seat-yourself - and wait a little bit until our server notices we're there. Standard operating procedure so far. We decide to eat first before having drinks, because we are all OLD and SENSIBLE. We get our non-alcoholic drinks first. It takes a while for the server to get back to take orders. We order food. When asked what the soup of the day is, the server says she doesn't know. And then after we stare at her expectantly for a while, asks if we'd like her to go look on teh board and find out. Um, well, yeah, that would probably be the appropriate response.

Food comes, after a while (well, ok, it's Saturday night, the kitchen's busy). There are problems with food - various people have stuff missing (like the extra cheese or honey-mustard on the side, things like that). Server says she'll bring it out. 10 minutes later, we catch her eye and ask for the missing items. 10-15 minutes later, she brings them out. Then, one of the party discovers that the beer-and-cheese soup she ordered (she ate whatever it arrived with first before starting the soup) is not actually beer-and-cheese soup, but instead, queso. Two other members of the party taste and agree that it's queso sitting in the bread bowl that the soup is supposed to be in. Well, ok. Screwup in the kitchen, not the server's fault.

It takes a while to find her - the person whose soup it is has to go get her. She tells the server that it is queso. The server then ARGUES with the three people who eat at the restaurant on a regular basis and KNOW what the beer-and-cheese soup tastes like, saying that no, it's the soup. This takes like, five minutes. And then when we finally convince her to TAKE THE BOWL AWAY and, say, give the person who ordered it another bowl of soup if there were no beer-and-cheese soup left in the kitchen.

About five minutes later, the server comes out and admits that yes, that was indeed queso. And would the person like a bowl of beer-and-cheese soup? Ya think?

So, we know we're here at least until this bowl of soup is finished, and we're having a good time other than the service, so we decide to order a round of drinks before we leave. After we flag her down again, we order. FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER we send out a search party for our drinks and discover that they've been sitting on the bar. The search party notifies someone-or-other, and the server shows up with the tray of drinks. She hands them out. When she gets to what I think is mine, she says "WHo ordered the Loco Lemonade?" (ok, we pretty much all ordered froofy specialty drinks). I raise my hand, and she places the drink in front of

puppleball. I think well, ok, maybe she ordered the same drink. There was one drink left, a rum and COke that none of us had ordered. After a bit of confused conversation, the server goes back to the bar, and then serves me with ... something I didn't order. Which turns out to be

puppleball's drink. We sort of shrug, try them, and decide that we like each other's drink well enough not to bother swapping.

We have also decided to ask for the checks so we can pay and then leave as soon as we ahve finished out drinks. The server says sure, and then vanishes. Ten to fiteen minutes later, we send out a search party, straight to the manager. We explain the problems with the server, from the slowness to the argument, and he agress that this is way unacceptable, and asks what he can do to make us happy. The search party replies, give our checks right now so we can LEAVE. He agrees and they appear. The server takes the credit cards and cash, exceot for

puppleball's cash (and I have to say that when my bill is $13.42 and I give you a $20 and you ask if I want change back? YOU'RE NOT IMPRESSING ME. Event hough I tip well, it takes DAMN GOOD SERVICE to earn $6.50 on a $13.42 bill, thankyouverymuch).

And - is anyone surprised by now - the server vanishes with the credit cards and cash. In the meantime, the manager arrives and gives us all cards good for free appetizers. We'll probably be back - the service is normally excellent at this location - and they'll get used. But then FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER the credit cards and change are still gone and the search party heads out again. (If it weren't that there were six of us and we were having a good time otherwise, we'd probably not have taken so long to send out search parties.)

The search party finds the credit cards and cash somewhere - I think maybe by the register at the bar, I'm rather hazy on this, and contacts someone, perhaps the manager, and says THIS IS NOT GOOD. He says Ah, and what do we want to do. The search party* says I DO NOT CARE. IF YOU ARE GOING TO CHARGE US, WE ARE FINE WITH THAT, JUST DO IT NOW SO WE CAN LEAVE. He looks at her, looks at the credit cards and cash in his hands, then hands them directly back to her.

She brings them back to the table, distributes them back to us, and we get the fuck out of there. I know I left no tip - I was going to leave, like, a dollar, because I've worked my time in food service and I usually tip more than the service warrants out of some sort of vague food-service solidarity, but the handing-back and the getting-out happened so fast I forgot. Dunno if others at the table left a small tip or not, but we'd discussed it and said we could forgive all the slowness and leave a very small tip - we figured she was new to serving - but the ARGUING for FIVE MINUTES that queso was soup? That was ... unacceptable.

We were not the only table with problems. The table next to us was having some sort of problem with their server, and someone from another part of the restaurant came up to that server, while he was in the discussion with the customer, and interrupted to complain about something-or-other.

And we were not demanding, rude, or even impatient with her, even during the soup argument. We said please and thankyou, and waited far longer than we really should ahve for ehr to get her act together and deliver various items to us. We've all done retail and service jobs enugh to know that there's no reason at all to be bad customers or to provoke the server. It was just the third-worst service I've had in my entire life.**

After that, the eveneing was ~~anticlimactic~~ very nice. We went to The Library, a bar downtown, and had several rounds before weaving our way back to Christy's apartment (she lives downtown) and haveing more dirnks, and then finally crashing abut 3 AM. And in the morning we went to La Madeleine's dowtown and had a brunchy-type breakfast, and then some time afterwards went to our various homes. And a good time was had by all.

*is resisting the urge to go poke through

customers_suck to see if there's a waitress complaining about a table of six who stiffed her*

* Gosh, I'm so coy about this. Her name is Christy, and she's the bride-to-be.

** THe first-worst service I deliberately went to experience. In San Antonio, some friends of ours told us about the Waffle House from Hell and said the service was so bad we should go. So we did. It was so bad it was great. XD It took forever for someone to get to our table - and there were only two tables with people sitting at them in the place. And it was actually the busboy, not the server. Then he vanished and reappeared with a pen and a napkin and told us to write our orders down. He came back after a while and said theyw ere out of Coke, so I changed my order to Dr Pepper. He came after a while and said theyw ere out of Dr Pepper. So I changed my order to ... er, something else. He came back after a while and said theyw ere out of that. Ia sked him what they actually had. He went away for a while and then came back and said Sprite. I told him I'd have Sprite. The entire rest of the visit was like that, but it was great, because we'd specifically gone to experience bad service.

The second-worst was my parents and I eating out at an Easter dinner in a fancy hotel in San Antonio, which was great until we tried to pay, and THREE TIMES they mixed up my dad's credit card and bill with the credit card and bill of the table next to us, and the fourth time a different waiter came to us with the card and explained that he'd found it on the floor. At that point, Dad went to the manager and I saw him tear up another one or two bills before they finally gave him the correct bill on the correct card.

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Urrrh. At least you were having a good time...

In Australia there's no such thing as tipping. People in those tipping-type jobs such as waiters and cab drivers just get paid against the same award rate, so everyone is equal. It means you can't punish someone for bad service by leaving them no tip; however it also means you aren't pressured into handing over any money other than the exact service you paid for.

I'm so used to our system; I'm sure if I went to America I'd be accused of being inadvertently rude for leaving the restaurant without giving a tip...easy to forget over here...

Yup. And the ideas of service are different - in England, from what I've experienced, the diners are expected to flag down the server if they want or need anything, plus people dine more than just eat, so they tend to linger longer. Which was annoying when Mom and I were there for a month and eating every meal out, and after about day #3 or 4 of eating everything together, you've pretty much exhausted every topic of conversation and just want to eat and get the hell out of there.

Write your orders down on a napkin? That is AWESOME! Oh my Tater, I have to phone my little sister straight away and tell her that...

Having the divine privilege of working at Ninfa's (the refried bean smell that you take home with you smells horribly similar to B.O.) I am also fairly forgiving of bad service...when I recognize that the server just got triple sat with three big tops. But it also makes me amazingly intolerant when I realize that they are just being lazy. I tip very well (partly because I never go out) but if you suck, then all you'll get is the change in my pocket. (Which, to me, getting $0.35 is somehow even worse than getting completely stiffed on the tip.) Evil. heh

XD If it weren't that it was over ten years ago, I'd tell you where the Waffle House was located, so if you got into San Antonio you could try it, but I figure with service that bad it's either out of business or sold to someone who whipped it into shape. There was no other way it could survive.

The one waitress there spent the entire evening talking to two old regulars drinking coffee up at the bar-type area.

I've always heard that leaving a tiny tip is worse because that way they KNOW you didn't just forget.

I know you weren't trying to be tacky, but we all know that C would have appreciated some chocolate cocks.

Because candy genitalia make every occasion grand.

That is true, she would indeed have appreciated chocolate cocks.

I was delighted by Outback. I ordered prime rib medium rare, and it came out medium well. When my server asked if everything was okay, I pointed out the problem but said it was tasty enough so I was not terribly upset. The server asked if I was sure, because they could get me a medium rare cut. I said, no, no, I just wanted to let them know of the mixup. Well, a little later, a manager type (?) came out to double check that I really did not want a replacement. I reassured her. Then, a little while later, they gave me another slice, in case I wanted it, along with the explanation that one hunk of prime rib had been under the heat lamps for a while and therefore was perhaps more well done than was expected. Well, I wasn't going to refuse free food now that they had put it in front me, was I? So I cut into it to make sure it was medium rare, and then took it home with me. Yum!

Cool. When I was a kid, my dad and I went out to a hamburger place - it was a sit-down place that specialized in burgers, not fast food - and the fries were a leeeeetle bit cold when they came out. Dad mentioned that when the serer came by, and she apologized. Ten minutes later, the manager comes out, apologizes from the bottom of his heart about the cold fries, then gave us cards good for free meals. Sweet!

Alas, that restaurant was in one of those "cursed" spots where nothing ever lasts more than two years, and it eventually went its way, replaced by soemthing else.

I would have stiffed her too. AND complained.

Yesterday while I was eating at midnight because I'd waited in line for three hours for Neil Gaiman, my friend Raven (with whom I just saw Mirrormask, which I recommend) was at a wedding where no food was served till eleven, because the rabbi was late, because Saturday is Shabbat and he couldn't come till the sun set. Then the best man got drunk and gave a terrible speech where he said he was surprised that the bride was nice, and then reminisced about stripping the groom naked at a bachelor party and tying him up, and how he then puked all over.

I'm so nonconfrontational that I'd have just left a 5% tip and slunk out, if it were up to me. XD But we've got two people in the group who are not chicken like me, who also plan on writing Very Strong Letters on Monday - and one of them is known for doing that all the time, so I expect it will indeed get sent.

Ah, lovely. I've been to weddings with various and sundry disaters, from the flower girl throwing up in the middle of the ceremony to the JP forgetting he had a wedding and not showing, but I've never experienced the best man getting drunk like that. XD

That bad of service gets no tip from me and a complaint to the manager. The mixup on the food, that wouldn't bug me - not the server's fault, like you said. The argument and the consistent inability to get her act together enough for prompt and courteous service would get her reamed though.

I think we were all fairly happy and easygoing because it was a happy occasion, none of us are uptight about Things Having To Be Right, and we were all prepared to be quite generous ... and she just went way too far. It would have been *so* easy to totally clean up on the tips from us, and if she had even said near the beginning that she was new to this - the manager told us at some point that this was only the second busy shift she'd ever worked - we'd have been completely sympathetic to her complete inability to organize and prioritize - although the argument was just GAH.

Hm. Maybe - but the way you were describing it sounded more like she just didn't care.

The way she interacted with us was very nice and pleasant - she was a nice person, basically, just one who had no clue how to handle a really heavy load, I think. If her attitude had been uncaring or bad, that would have been OH HELL NO MANAGER THIS INSTANT, I think.

I didn't get across how the argument was conducted apologetically on both sides - you could tell she was all "Oh god, they're totally wrong but how can I get that across without insulting them?" (and failing to do so XD) and she did have the class to come out and apologize when it turned out to be queso, although she should have been thinking far enough ahead to bring out the replacement bowl of soup at the same time. And it would have been much classier for her to contact the manager herself and ask him to come by the table.

Ah. Well, I wouldn't have been so hard on her then, if she was trying. Heck, I might have given her some friendly advice (tips in a different sense of the word, ne?) and possibly a buck or two if she was really trying and just couldn't manage it.

Damn. I guess I'm a primadonna, because it that situation? I not only wouldn't have tipped, I would have outright refused to pay at all. That is completely unacceptable. I mean, once or two mix-ups, or a server that seems new and inexperienced? That's okay. Annoying, but stuff happens, and I'd try to be patient. But a dozen fuck-ups, plus completely unapologetic incompetence from the manager and servers? Uh, no. No money for you! Geez. How obnoxious. Glad you got out of there without being expected to pay for that kind of idiocy.

I think on any other day, it would have been more stress-inducing, but we were all in the right mood and looking forward to getting drunk, and telling stories and laughing hard and so on, so it was more of an annoyance and inconvenience than OH MY GOD MUST BITCH AT EVERYONE NOW. I mostly didn't realize it had been 10-15 minutes between visits from the server until I'd checked my watch.

Plus, I think we all revel in having stories to tell, and there may have been an element of "OK, now how bad can it get?" happeneing. XD

Hee hee! Then that's good. Glad you hd a good time in spite of the annoyance.

And the thing about reveling in having stories to tell? OMG, I so get that. XD

The worst I had was a woman who had been okay-- not great but okay-- until my husband asked for, I don't know, extra dressing I think, can't remember if he'd asked for it twice now or what. The woman came back, and without announcement slammed the dish on the table, so hard both my husband and I jumped. I've had bad service before but nothing violent before.

Good lord. I don't think I've experienced that sort of thing. I usually just get run-of-the-mill incompetence. XD

Yeah, exactly. It was certainly nothing I'd experienced before or since-- we never saw her again at that restaurant, a place we went to frequently with consistently good service.

Wow. The worst service I've ever had was at a yuppiefied Tex-Mex restaurant here in San Antonio. Our server neglected our table to the extent that when we needed to refill our water glasses, we had to go to the kitchen to ask for it. And it's not like the place was busy or understaffed, either -- our server was just too busy hanging out to actually, you know, work.

After waiting around for some time for our bill, we finally spelled out "B I L L" at the edge of our table with two dinner plates and an assortment of tableware. I'm not sure our server got the message there, but she should certainly have understood the three pennies and pocket lint we left as tip.

I never really had TEH UBER BAD SERVICE OF DOOM, but I know my brother was a waiter at Johnny Rockets for a while, and he wasn't always numero uno awesome server dude. If he ever got too many tables too fast, or was feeling lazy, he would just tell one table, "Okay, hey, I'm busy, so I'm basically just not going to do my job with you guys. You should probably just order your stuff take-out and leave now, because you aren't getting any service."

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