Build your own salad night! That’s like every night
where I work. Why can’t people stick to the damned
menu? I mean, I can understand subbing a dressing,
or wanting no tomatoes. Some people don’t like
tomatoes! I get it!
Last night, I had a guest order an Asian style salad.
They wanted baby romaine lettuce only, instead
of the romaine/ iceberg blend.
They added black beans, julienne carrots,
and cucumbers. They subbed the dressing. Build
your own salad! No, motherfucker.
This isn’t the salad bar. Oh well. So I brought it out.
The other people at the table also ordered their own
custom salads, no less than 4 substitutions per dish.

Everything came out right. Then they tipped me 10%.
Fucking really? I got everything out exactly to order.
Every single time I returned to the table, there was
a new strange request. At one point, I thought they
were just fucking with me. That’s how bad it was.

You’re eating salads, and you want a side of salsa
and some Tobasco? I face-palmed frequently as I
recounted the entire encounter over a cigarette
after I was off work. I just couldn’t understand why
they felt the need to tip me 10%.
Then I realized that these people weren’t raised
right. That had to be the only explanation. They
were either from a family of rich, entitled, snotty
fucks who never learned the value of hard work, or how
to appreciate it when hard work is being done for
you, or they were from a family of broke asses
who only ever ate at places like Denny’s
when they were growing up.

Since their parents couldn’t afford to tip, they never
learned how to tip properly. Either way, GTFO of my
section, for real.
Actual column with actual content will be tonight,
maybe. Or tomorrow. I might have another bad night
tonight and need to rant again. We’ll see.

About author