How rude no.755
Well that weekend was all a bit humdrum and if I may be so bold, tedious. It's not that it wasn't busy, because it was. But it was all just a frightful bore fest. Thank Jehovah for rude guests and their mind blowingly irritating ways.
First up was a Scandinavian Jazz chap on Thursday night. In he strode, all tall and what have you wearing a white roll neck sweater. But it wasn't his height nor his choice of jumper that pickled my wick nor was it his flowing locks of straight golden hair. No, it was his enticing blend of arrogance and rudeness that so captivated the imagination and ire of Waiter Chum the Younger and I. When he wasn't staring out the window and ignoring simple questions he was making snarly faces and waving his hands like he needed saved from a sinking ship. The final straw came when, in an attempt to capture the attention of Waiter Chum the Younger who was at another table at the time, he followed up a bout of waving with a couple of sharp snap clicks of his bony jazz fingers.
Well, you can imagine how that went down.
Finger clicking? In this day and age? With the UN Declaration of human rights enshrined in our hearts and minds? Not on my watch you don't. One shouldn't have to take such incivility from a man who looks like the cross between a shampoo model and an Afghan Hound.
But he wasn't the worst.
Friday lunch and all was well. I had a table of eight retired gentlemen drinking wine and occasionally stopping for some food. They were a hoot, "We are here for luncheon", announced the leader without a hint of irony or mirth. He said luncheon, because that's what he normally has between 12 and 2pm on any given day when the rest of you savages are having yer "dinner." I had just served them their fifth bottle of wine when a younger man arrived at the door.
"Hello, I'm here to join the Smith party"
"The Smith party?"
"The Smith party"
"Eh, was it a table for eight sir? For 1pm sir?"
"That's the one, now less of the shimmy shallying and take me to my colleagues", said the man clearly irritated by my questioning of the facts.
"Yes, eh...that table was cancelled about two hours ago sir"
"What's this? Cancelled you say?"
"Indeed sir, cancelled"
"Well bugger me, the bastards! Sorry for the inconvenience mate", and off he popped looking crushed by this rejection.
I wouldn't mind but this is the second time this has happened in a week.
We had occasion to phone a table for eight that had no showed. The place was busy and people were waiting for tables. Waiter Chum the Student was tasked with phoning the missing people.
She came off the phone fuming. She relayed the call to the gathered group of waiters and chums of waiters.
"Oh, aye...here love, we aren't gonna be taking that table now" said the woman apparently. She was all very matter of fact about it.
"How rude", thought I and carried on with the plate schlepping until I found myself at the door not five minutes later explaing to two women that we didn't have a table for them as we were full.
"But we have a table reserved", insisted one of the women.
"Yes, it's a table for eight under the name Jones"
Oh dear.
"Table for eight?"
"Yeah"
"Jones? Mrs Jones"
"Yes, a table for eight under the name Jones". If she thought she was irritated now I had news that was going to irk her even more.
"Yeah, eh...that table was cancelled by Mrs Jones not five minutes ago. She didn't tell you?"
"No, no she fupping didn't", replied the woman whilst doing a remarkable job in not swearing. They too looked crushed and hurt, so much so in fact that I made magic happen, with white out, and moved a few things about and found them a table. I'm all fucking heart.
Not telling the restaurant you aren't taking the table is one thing but not telling all those invited for dinner is something else altogether.
It really is just about the rudest thing.
Other than Scandinavian Jazz hounds, obviously.
Install noise activated lighting so the next clown that snaps his fingers gets plunged into Darkness…..cue stabby fork!
Louis Balfour…”Scandinavian Jazz hounds…….Mmmmm. Nice!”
ha ha ha ha tremendous idea…
hope this is a better week, sugar. xoxoxox
looking better already….!
Cancelling and not telling your mates? That’s just……yep, worse than “clicky”, and I didn’t think that was possible.
Luncheon has just become my favourite word.
but isn’t it? that really is the rudest thing…
inconceivable to cancel a group meal without telling the other attendees. and to be a no show? mrs. jones needs to serve time in Anthony Bourdain’s Corrective Behaviour Dungeon. hell. i think i could use a couple weekends there myself, now that i think of it…
oooooh you dirty girl….hehehe
You should try clicking your fingers at the punters as they come in & then use over the top hand gestures as you direct them to their table, after all it worked for Basil( he was way ahead of his time) no one treated him like that & got away with it.
If someone cancels over the phone, just say ”Good” and tell them we didn’t want you any way !
You can run these ideas up the flag pole & see if your manager will salute them.
yeah hahahaha I like the first idea….arf
cancelling a table and not telling your friends?? mine would kill me, tis a wonder either party has any friends left that will eat with them.
it was the wee hurt faces of the two women….they were mortified, crushed, hurt….then the anger kicked in….!
Brings a whole new meaning to phrase ‘Desert Menu’
Ok, ok, I’ll get me coat…
oh dear….heh
My dear chap,you should have spilt a wee bit of water on the ‘Because I’m worth it chap’ then patted his coat dry with a cloth,then brought the cloth out the back where you keep the angry/hungry hound,let it get a sniff of his scent,then unleash it!Prob solved!
Now on a lighter note,a wee poem to honour your video clip.
MANUEL-THE ORIGINAL JEDWARD
Goths in the Gasworks kicking up a stink,
Skinheads in the launderette dancing round’ the sink,
The Indies tuned into Radiohead
Down at the Gasworks with bottles of cheap red,
With young Manuel,like a one man Jedward
Slouching along thinking he’s Robert Redford!
Tremendous work….the public’s choice in vindicated…
Well Manuel, as you said your self……you have created a monster!
As I look at chuffys latest atrocity! I weep for you.(all this could have been avoided )
c’mon now….time to move on….let it go….just let it go….
Oh no Chuffy! You said the J word!
I pretended not see that…
I have some rich English language students. They raise their palms, look away and beckon me forth when they want my attention. Pulled one little madam up on it too, she didn’t like it and complained to the school about my rudeness. The bitch…
that’s not fucking cool….