Are You Still Open?

Here's a question. Does anybody own a Godamned watch anymore? And if so, do you ever look at the fucking thing? What's up with people walking in at 5 minutes until a restaurant closes? What fun is it being the object of ridicule and scorn from the kitchen( who have been cleaned up 20 minutes before you got there) and the waitstaff who really love to wait around for you to decide what you want 10 minutes after the restaurant is closed. I'm not talking about if it's busy, when everything is going at full pace anyway, I'm talking about a Wednesday night, in the slowest part of summer. Or my personal favorite, people who run late for their reservation at 9:00. You know the ones. They call and say they'll be a few minutes late (which inevitably turns into 20-30 minutes). Is it really that fucking hard to meet a deadline? Everywhere you look there are timepieces. Watches, clocks, on your cell phone, pda and on your computer. EVERYWHERE! The absolute favorite are the people that decide they need to not only place their order after the restaurant is closed( OHHH THE POWER!), but decide they need to ask every single question possible about the menu. All questions answered. Then they have whatever it is they didn't want to know about. Or better yet. "We'll just have some soup.".
Soup. The restaurant has been waiting for your ass to show up and you have the balls to hold everybody up for a bowl of soup. Here's the actual translation of what the waiter says.."Not a problem"= "Go fuck yourself you cheap, self-important prick" then it's back to the kitchen. "They're just having soup." "WE WAITED AROUND FOR THESE CHEAPASSES" "WHAT A COUPLE TURDS!".

Sometimes being late is unavoidable, but 9 times out of 10 it's because shitheads didn't want to rush. Or they forgot. You forgot? Well, if remembering your dinner reservation isn't important to you, then I guess you don't care about what you're going to eat. All the high wire, envelope pushing food comes off the menu and you get a steak. If you don't care, we don't care. It's all about mutual respect. I've always held that restaurant staffs are the last whipping boys for the statureless. How important you must feel after having spent all week following your orders like good little sheep, being able to be a thorn in the side of somebody who has to try to make YOU happy. If that's how you feel, if you feel we're your slaves. Take a running fuck at a rolling doughnut. Respect us, show up on time and don't act like a pretentious jerk and you'll get our best. Treat us like shit and all we'll do is wish you were dead. Blunt but true.