One drunk waiter, disorganized cooking staff and you have the perfect recipe for ruining someone’s birthday.
It starts out small….
As the waitress, you just have to start out small. Start by getting the drinks. No choice of wine in the house? That’s fine. Just replace it with this brand of unknown and give some kind of pretext as to why. Make sure you get really close to the birthday girl so she can smell the stench of wine off your breath and wonder if you don’t have the wine she ordered because you drank it yourself.
Next, the rest of the drinks for the party of twelve. Frozen margaritas? Not on your watch. Just say you don’t have those because of the music and if the customer looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, just smile and take the next set of drinks.
Okay, almost everyone now has a drink. Check. Oops. Nope. Forgot the couple in the center of the table. That’s fine. They have their water. The gentleman on the right to the couple wants a beer? No problem, you’ll get him after you get everyone’s appetizers.
One appetizer as an entree and one for right now? Too complicated. Just tell the cooks to serve everything at the same time. Oh, and forget the gentleman and the beer. You’ll come back for him.
One hour gone by and oh good… everyone seems to be too drunk to complain about the fact that there’s no food or appetizers or that you haven’t shown at all to ask if they need something.
Things can only go south….
This was only half of the night. The night continued worsening from that point on. Light chatter became murmurs, gossiping and side-eye glances. The husband was furious, then the son and they set out to cancel everything. They’d pay for their drinks and move elsewhere.
The incompetent manager comes out with cheap apologies, saying the food is ready and that a discount would be made. The guest agree to stay albeit disgruntled. One more opportunity.
The food comes out, but only some plates. The appetizers and some light dishes are ready first. At the first bite, the husband encounters disaster. The ribs are cold and the barbecue feels cold. Disappointment turning to disgust. The ribs are sent back. The meal is ruined for the husband and he just looks on concern to his wife, hoping she at least is enjoying her meal— but she isn’t. The wife is too busy staring at her son, at how livid he is that 30 minutes later, they still haven’t brought out his wife’s dinner. He’s lost his appetite and has send whatever he ordered back.
The daughter at least doesn’t put up a fight. She can see how horrible the night has turned out to be so she intends to enjoy her meal and toast and celebrate her mother. Everyone raises their glasses and try to make the best of it, despite being served their worst, complimentary in-house champagne. Guests are choosing to ignore the taste of burned plastic on their tastebuds in hope of salvaging the night.
…. A Bitter Aftertaste
Dessert was brought out but by then my brother was far too upset to accept it. He continued to return whatever they offered. His wife and I had been sharing an appetizer and that lasted her long enough to make it until her food arrived. If they took an hour and forty minutes with the food, her meal must have taken two hours— and this was after they promised the food was ready. My mother’s birthday night was ruined because of an intoxicated waitress, an incompetent manager and disorganized cooking staff. My dad paid everyone’s meals just to avoid the embarrassment. It wasn’t cheap. The service might have been nightmarish but the dishes were still expensive.
The night was ruined and it would continue to deteriorate even back at home when we were already away from that awful place. Tears, disappointment, embarrassment. To them, we were just a dissatisfied party but to us, they were the culprit for single-handedly ruining a birthday celebration.
Now, the question remains, how much did they pay for those 5 star reviews?