Your circus called...

THEY WANT THEIR FREAK SHOW BACK!

The restaurant just opened. The host was starting to seat the sections, one by one. The goal being to give every server a table at the beginning of the day. I come around the corner and see that he had skipped me in the rotation.

I wasn't too worried, since I wasn't even in the mood to be at work in the first place. I look over at the table that would have been mine, if the seating order were followed. It was a pleasant surprise.

"Oh wow. Thank you SO MUCH for not giving those people to me." The host look at me with some confusion. I'm sure he was trying to decipher my sincerity from possible sarcasm. I confirmed that I was serious. "I waited on that lady the other day... she's a high maintenance freak show. A freak show that belongs in the big top."

The waitress that had the section started to walk by he and I on the way to that table. "Hey ______, that lady sucks. Good luck." She laughed and kept going. We watched her greet the table, then went back to our idle chatter.

A few minutes into our trivial chat, she comes back, laughing... but trying to hide it from the table she just left.

"So... can you say creepy?" The host and I look at each other and chuckle. I ask, "What happened?" She shakes her head "She orders with awkward eye contact!" The waitress reenacts the encounter by positioning herself to our right. Her head looks straight forward and her eyes shift to the left straining to see us. She starts to order, mimicking the custy.

She resumes her normal demeanor, as she ends the reenactment. "As she finished her creepy order, she asks for a side plate for her salad. Her husband then gives me the same creepy, side-eye look! Then nods, as if to say 'yeah... side plate.'"

I scoff. "Wow... have fun with that." She rolls her eyes, and takes off to enter their order into the computer. Minutes later we meet up by the expo window (this is the window between the kitchen and the service floor. Finished food is put up for servers to deliver to their tables). She looked displeased, "Remind me to never wait on that lady again!" She continues with more detail of torture from the freak show.

I give silent thanks as I head out to my tables. I had a good day waiting that day. My heart went out the other server.

Manners: The dying human attribute

Restaurant Rage

OK, this is a restaurant rage rant... so if you're not in the mood to read my version of a little writer's therapy, you might want to skip this post.

The freak show family (also known as "the douche bags" to my fellow coworkers). Normally, there is fight over who is going to wait on them as we see them approaching through the large restaurant windows. Luckily tonight, I'm on the host stand again. I won't have to wait on them. The idiot father, the needy/annoying wife (who we recently decided is actually a bigger idiot than the husband... seeing as she said 'Yes' when he asked for her hand in marriage, and then also proceed to spawn his demon offspring), two male kids completely devoid of manners, and the newest infant minion.

I know, I know... don't attack the kids right? It's not their fault that they have idiot parents. They can't help it, right? Well folks, unfortunately for this ankle-biters, it's a lost cause. These mini criminals are beyond the point of no return.

Enter Family De Freak show.

Me: "Hey guys... how are you?'

Him: "Hey, did you guys find my (insert article of lost clothing)?" he was just here the night before... he's ALWAYS HERE!

Me: "Haven't seen it. We'll put it aside for you if find it."

Him: "OK... well, I'd better not catch you wearing it."

Me: "...." (so many things I want to say)

Him: "Can we sit where we can see the T..."

Mannerless interrupting child: "I WANT TO WATCH THE X-GAMES!"

I hold my breath. I know already it's outburst night. We're going to have a whole night of unruly , rude kids... with parents who (a) look the other way, (b) laugh (reinforcing) at the bad behavior, or (c) just ignore the behavior all together. How do I know this? Countless nights of the past have validated this prediction. It's like dark clouds, and that smell in the air before it rains.... you just know it's coming.

Ten minutes after we seat them, the father comes up to host stand... again bugging us about the TV. The kids aren't happy. They are yelling, bothering other customers, and generally are being obnoxious.

The father returns to his self created hell... the hell that he is completely oblivious to. I hear one of the manner challenged kids let out a shierk. I turn to view the table. Just then a french fry goes flying across 4 tables and hits another man dining. He turns around to look for the origin of the flying edible projectile. No sorry from the parents, no scolding of the child.... but rather, two arms raised by the father to mimic the NFL's official's universal confirmation of a successful field goal. The victim of the fry, kind of laughs along... but I'll assume he was about as completely unimpressed as we were.

Another 45 minutes of them reminding us that the X-games are coming on. Finally, the time arrives... the X-games start. They watch in bliss for about two to three minutes. They then pack up, and leave. My coworkers and I look at one another. We exchange glances ranging from completely puzzled to violent anger. "Why did they bug us that whole time about a show they were going to watch for a minute and a half?" one asks. "Because it's them," another answers. The server comes over, and watches as they pass the big windows. He tells us about the kids getting worse every time he waits on them, and about tonight's debacle.

Coworker: "Working here seriously makes me lose faith in the human race."

Me: (I watch bamboozled as they are obscured by the window frame) "Manners: The dying human attribute."

The awkward diners

Restaurant Rage: The Freaks

Ok, so we all know one. The freaks... and unfortunately for people in the service industry, the freaks eat out quite often. Some times there is only one, but at other times, they breed with other freaks, and come in as a family of freakdom.

Freaks are a source of great frustration, and of course... the cause of much Restaurant Rage! You may be asking... ok, what classifies one as freak?

To be classified as freak, sadly, is not all that hard. Worry not, my dear friends... it is much easier to NOT BE classified as a freak as well. Just avoid stupid behavior, blank stares, the need to be notified of things multiple times... I think you get the idea.

Freak Case #1: The Breakup.

This actually happened to a co-work of mine. A couple of co-workers and myself were chatting it up at the host stand. The waitress says to all of us "Ok, I'm gonna go greet that couple in the corner. I'll be right back."

She leaves us and walks over to the table. Seconds pass, and she stops short of the table. Slowly she hesitates left, then staggers right. We watch as spins a 180 degree turn and walks back to us.

"What's going on?" a host asks.

"THEY'RE BREAKING UP!" she replies.

"How do you know?" some else asks.

She answers: "Because as I was approaching I heard the man say '...I don't, I just don't love you anymore.' How fucked up is that?"

"Haha, Wow!"

Freak Case #2: The Charlie Chaplin Table

You remember those old silent films? Well, me neither really. Hopefully you do know that Charlie Chaplin was a silent film actor.

This is a pretty typical table really. You approach. You greet. Maybe two of four look up to acknowledge you are there. No response however. Not one of them makes a sound. "Do you guys need a few more minutes to settle in and check out the menu?"

No response.

"Alright... I'll be back with you in a few moments." From here on out, it's like pulling teeth. You literally count the seconds until this table pays out and leaves.

Freak Case #3: The inevitable air diet lady

"Hi, how is everyone doing today? Any questions on the menu?" Me.

Air diet lady: "Yeah, I was wondering what's in the falafel salad? Does it have dairy? Does it have Wheat?"

I think... shit, should have listened to the chef when this went on the menu. "I'm not exactly sure, let me check with the kitchen. I'll be right back." I return. "They advise you sticking to the menu items over on this side if you have any food allergies. Sorry." I point.

I'm not actually sure anything I said registered with her. She continues: "Can I sub fries for... oh wait. Are your fries fried in the same oil as meats and wheat products?"

Ok... let's just cut this story short. As much as I enjoy actually reliving the visit with this nuisance... I think you get my point. Look, if can't eat an ever expanding list items, please keep your air diet at home. I know you can't eat 98.8% of our menu.... just keep it easy on everyone. STAY HOME. You annoy the restaurant staff, you annoy your friends, and I'm sure you even get sick of yourself. Stay home, and eat your soy yogurt with celery veggie broth soup. (I don't hate you as a person, just as a diner.)