May 30th, 2003

JOY

It is no longer a passion. It is now a mission.

There are few things in this world more gratifying than saying to someone "that's enough outta you."

Especially when it's a bitchy waitress who cocks off at you when you ask why she overcharged you for your meal.

Allow me to explain:
Last night we went to a steakhouse/bar to watch the Devils steamroll the Mickey Mice, play a little trivia, and have some dinner. Thursday night, the special is the Prime Rib. Turkey and I both ordered the Prime Rib. Everything went smoothly from there. We enjoyed the game, played well at the trivia, swell time had by all. It was hard enough to flag the waitress down for more drinks, and after about 20 minutes of waiting for our check, we finally go get her and the check. I notice that she charged us the non-special price for the Prime Rib meals, waited for her to come by again and asked her if she noticed the mistake.

She retorts with her way-too-rehearsed speech: "you have to tell me you want the Thursday Night Special Prime Rib or I'm going to charge you for the regular Prime Rib. I brought you the regular Prime Rib. I can call the manager over to tell you if you want."

"Well," I said, "it's Thursday. The Prime Rib is on special on Thursday. Wouldn't you assume or even ask if that's what we wanted?"

"Look, I don't have ESPyuh."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Jesus Christ, take it easy."

"WHAT? It was a joke."

"Alright, that's enough outta you. We've had to deal with your attitude all night. That's enough."

"Do you want me to get the managerruh?"

"No, I don't want any help from you. You've done enough. Thank you.". And she kept standing there. "THANK YOU."

The manager came over anyway, hands folded, looking at me like my third grade teacher did. "I hear we have an issue over here?" No, I said, it was a question. It became an issue. "My waitress said she made a joke with you and you didn't hear it that way. She's very jokey. Maybe you just misinterpreted it. I can take the money off of your bill for you for the difference if you like." I explained that the issue is no longer the four dollars, that I don't care about it, but if she wants to comp the $4 and give the girl a tip for me, that's fine. I explained that having been a waitress I know that we don't have ESP, but we have to ask questions. If she needs to teach the waitress that, maybe it's for the better.

All morning I've been reviewing the scenario over in my head and thought of something I should have said, that if the waitress is so "jokey" she needs to go back to comedy school to learn timing and delivery.

Don't think this ruined my night at all. It was a great game, the Prime Rib was pretty good, and we all had a good time. It was just another point to drive it home: It is my duty to point out unacceptable service. I can not deny it. When I accepted this superpower of mine, I realized the lifelong commitment I have to make to ensuring the good service for the world. And so I go on, a beacon, a voice.
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