Does it ever end? NAH!

I guess by now some you are thinking that I hate the American public and that I should be thankful for you damned people coming out to eat, keeping me in a job and all. The reality is that only a small percentage, much larger than we’d like, cause most of the problems. I was told by a friend that this blog was off course as I should be educating the public, not criticizing them. This is my blog, just a fun way to vent and be somewhat catty and harsh. Now granted this is a great platform by which to inform and educate but what fun is that? With that said it's time to get back to the good stuff.
Today a lady entered the restaurant to pick up a credit card she had called the day before to verify that we had. The lady actually left her card about a month ago, by her own admission, and she had not called to cancel the card when she couldn’t locate it. She had actually spent a month contacting every place she had visited. It took her 30 days! Come on, how much does this chick shop? I’d hate to be her husband. While I was retrieving the card the lady began to question my hostess as to why we hadn’t tried to call her. The hostess asked politely how we would have known her number (as it isn’t printed on the card). The woman responded by screeching “we’re in the phone book”! Are you kidding me? As mentioned in the previous issue, people leave credit cards all the time and we surely do not have the time to go hunting down missing credit card holders. The lady then went on preaching to me about how it just isn’t good business to not try and make a 10 second phone call and said that had the server not kept her card she wouldn’t have left it behind. Listen up Mrs. Lawrence T., how about you take responsibility for your own actions. You walked out of the restaurant without your credit card. Your behavior was absolutely comical and thanks you for giving everyone in the restaurant something to talk about for years to come. I shall never forget you. Oh and so you know, the Barney purple tennis suit clashed horribly with your Lexus SUV.
Almost immediately after the absurd Mrs. Lawrence T. left the restaurant in walked the Queen of the trailer park with her unwed, very pregnant teen daughter pushing a baby buggy with her 10 month old (is she catholic or what?) and proceeded to hold up two fingers never acknowledging verbally the hostess’s greeting. As if that wasn’t rude enough, she demanded to be sat someplace other than where the hostess was trying to seat her. Then for the icing on the cake, they ordered 2 waters and split a salad and entrée. Geez, people really should read this blog more often; all of this was addressed in previous issues. Take out a loan and buy a clue folks.
Later while I was unclogging the towel stuffed urinal, compliments of the little brat in jean overalls with roller skate shoes (the very same brat that repeatedly wrote on the floor with crayons while his clueless mother sat chatting with man 30 years her senior) an elderly gentleman began to lecture me because the newspapers posted above the urinals are too close to the urinal user and informed me that one would have to be near sighted to read it. Umm, you aren’t actually in the restroom to read a newspaper are you? I know I personally get all my news from the urinals in restaurant restrooms. Is there nothing you people won’t complain about? We’re talking about being able to read while urinating. I’m really not seeing the issue. Be nice old man your number’s coming up, you want to get into heaven don’t you?
So there’s the latest and greatest. Have no doubt that the American public will never fail to provide things to write about. There would have been more but it’s late. What? It was American Idol night (which I almost missed because you people wouldn’t go home). Keep coming back for more to chew on. Goodnight, sleep tight.

Mr. Restaurant