I have to tell you about this woman that came into Sostanza last night. I can only hope that I am NOT that crabby when I get to be her age.
Apparently she is a regular, which means nothing to me since I only work on Mondays and I consider “regulars” to be the customers that come in, smile at me and give me a hug. Otherwise, they don’t count. Parkies can be too high and mighty sometimes, therefore I get to use my discretion as to who gets the title role of “regular.”
My first encounter with her was Friday, during a shift I picked up from Sean. I was in the weeds with a full section of tables that were all within minutes of each other. This is my general substitution for cardio and hot yoga, since the combination of stairs and heat are the equivalent to a work out. The new busser, who is hands down the most annoying person I have ever met in my life, decided it was acceptable to take her order and relay it to me. Don’t worry. I’ll get to tearing him apart later.
Anyways, she came in again last night. And in my best effort to pay attention to her, strain my hearing as to not have to ask her to repeat herself and do everything with a non-stressed smile – she was still completely rude to me. I could use a slew of swear words including but not limited to: wench, asshat and b*t%@ but instead I’ll chalk this one up to old age. I would like to think that anyone over the age of 75 is like my Grandma and the friendliest person alive. Turns out, not so much. Even after comping her a dessert, which she also hated, and discounting her bill she still didn’t tip me yet proceeded to pretend like I had fixed her life’s problems.
What a grinch.
Oh, and also, those are TENTACLES not fish tails and calamari is supposed to taste like that. My other 15 customers who ordered the EXACT same thing as you had no problem with it, therefore you are wrong. Next time you send me into the battle field that is our kitchen telling me something in inedible, please remember to give me an accurate description of why your food tastes like shit, otherwise the next thing served on your plate will my fingers. And I guarantee you the chef will not be as friendly as me.