When I walked into the restaurant I could already tell that my time there was going to be less than pleasant. With my son perched on my hip and baby bag weighing on my shoulder I began to wait. My friend was more patient than I was because after 5 minutes of seeing no one, I began looking for the “bell” that I must need to ring in order to get service.
There was no sign of anyone, customers or servers of any kind. I began saying “Hello?!” Finally, someone came to the front. The hostess looked as if she were in hell, not a smile or a Oh, I’m sorry for the wait. Party of 3? This way.
As we all shuffled to our table, which mind you they had placed right next to a can of garbage, I asked the server if she could please bring a high chair for my son. Who by this time was overly hungry, and letting us all know it by waving his arms in the air and hitting me in the face.
As I waited patiently for the high chair and our server, I realized that I was going to have to take matters into my own hands. I passed my son off to my friend, and began searching for a high chair, and a server. I found both. As I was pulling the high chair back to our table I said
“Can we please get some menus? And maybe some water..”
“Oh, yes, sorry.. I’ll be right out” she said.
The server came out in what seemed to be the dirtiest apron I’ve ever seen, and set our glasses of water down on the table. After staring at her dirty fingernails as she handed me the water with “floaties” towards the top I decided I wasn’t so thirsty afterall.
I decided to order. Because I am a server, I have a lot of sympathy towards servers and restaurants in general. I know that guests do not always take into account everything that a server is doing, so I tried to be as patient and understanding as possible.
I ordered my meal, and my sons meal and waited.. and waited.. and waited… I got my servers attention.
“Is there a problem? I’m just wondering what’s taking so long?”
“Oh, oh yeah.. Your food will be right out”
By this time my son was in full tantrum mode. He was hungry and he was not happy with me or anyone for that matter.
Finally the server brought out our dishes. And, surprisingly even though the presentation of the food looked like it was slopped on plate as a way that you would be feeding some sort of animal, the taste wasn’t bad.
After the food was delivered we saw no sign of our server again. No check backs. No water refills for my friend who had braved the “floaties” and decided to drink it anyway. Nothing. I even had to go to the front desk to get my check.
Like I said, I’m a server so I’m usually understanding to almost every situation. But, in this case… I was not so happy. I was actually pissed by this point. I grudgingly pulled out the amount on my ticket to pay my bill. As the person asked if I wished to leave a tip I said:
“Yes, here’s a tip. If you’re a server, that generally means you have to serve people. So, if you want a tip, then how about you wash your hands before you serve the food, so I don’t want to vomit in my mouth as you slide me my water which by the way had things floating in it; And, how about you actually check back at least once while I’m here. Just because you look like hell, doesn’t mean you have to treat your customers that way, and that’s a good enough tip for her.”
That was the first and only time I had complained or said to any restaurant, and it was the first time that I left “no tip” for any server. However I thought my tip was fantastic.
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