When I was young, my parents and grandparents made sure that I had manners and knew how to use them. "Please," "thank you," "No, thank you," etc, were regular phrases in my vocabulary. "Excuse me" was one, too (and all of these are STILL regular stars of my conversations and requests).
This evening at work, a family came in and sat in my section. The kids were adorable, and extremely well-spoken, well-behaved, and well-mannered. They said "I would like..." and "please" and "thank you." The mother was very quiet...oddly quiet...but the father, well. Let me just say that he could use a few lessons in speaking to others.
I brought their food out (and mind you, there's 5 people, with 1-2 sides per person, so roughly 8-10 sides). I ask, "Is there anything else I can get for you right now?"
"Yeah, where's my baked potato?!"
I wanted to respond with, "Oh, I'm sorry, Sir, why don't you just calm the f*** down?!" but I did not. I held my tongue, and edited the thought as it came out of my mouth: "Oh, I'm sorry--I must've missed it when I was loading up these two trays for your one table--sometimes I miss things. I'll be right back with your potato."
We need this, we need that, blah blah blah.
And, here's the best part--a 10% tip.
That's not a tip.
That's an insult.
And now, I shall retire to bed so that I can rest up for another long day of ungrateful teenagers, and another closing shift at Job #2.
Fabulous.
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