Saturday Night Shitstorm

It's a Saturday at the end of school vacation week. It's totally dead and I'm dragging my feet as the minutes roll by like hours. I'm closing tonight, which is a 5-12 shift and it's only about 8 o'clock.

My boss decides to cut the rest of the staff, hoping to get us, as closers, more tables and hence make at least a little cash.

"There's a 12 coming in right now, take it" my boss smiled, knowing I'd be thrilled to finally to have something to do.

They came in, they sat, they spoke and I was instantly horrified. They were all foreign, exchange students meeting together for a birthday. The 12 turned into almost 20 as more and more people filtered in at intervals. In the meantime I was sat three more tables, one in my section and two on the rotation which meant that my tables were scattered all over the restaurant.

Most of the big party didn't speak any English, so they pointed and translated as needed which just took even more of the time I didn't have any of. A while later I was finally out of the weeds..

...although not entirely unscathed...

...and I dropped the check on my larger party's table.

"Can we have separate checks?"

I should have said no, made them figure it out, but they all had their own credit cards and this business from hell that I'm in requires me to say yes as often as I possibly can. So I spent 15 minutes at the computer trying to remember what each person ordered to separate the checks and then another 10 as I ran everyone's credit card through.

Most people would be grateful and compensate, understanding how frustrating it is to separate and run 20 different checks without warning at the beginning of the meal. But what did I say before...

They're foreign.

I'm not racist, but ask anyone in the industry and they will tell you that there are trends as to how certain cultures tip. And because of that I tipped out more than I even made on that table.

Suffice it to say, I hate these people. You ruined my Saturday. Please don't come back.