Mom and Dad and I go out to dinner for Dad’s birthday.
We go to a fancy little seafood restaurant.
With fancy little seafood.
And fancy little waiters.
Our waiter is a bit of a prick, and seems to play up the fancy a little too much for my liking.
He’s all about his specials and his fish and and being a prick.
(For clarification purposes my definition of "prick" is generally someone who is not cool, someone with the proverbial stick up their arse, someone who is overly attentive to my silverware selection, maybe.)
After I order my meal he says, “Would you like soup or salad with that?” in a way that implies that the meal comes with soup or salad, and that I’m supposed to choose just one.
I am a little confused, as I didn’t think the meals included soup or salad, because fancy places aren’t all about combo deals.
My mother points out that the meal doesn’t come with a salad, he is just trying to get me to order one.
This increases his already high prick factor.
After he finishes delivering food to our table my mother picks up her glass and says, “Happy Birthday” to my dad.
Unbeknownst to us our fancy waiter hears this and at the end of the meal he brings out a dessert for my dad with a little candle on it.
It is nice of him, although it pains me to admit it.
I joke that he’ll probably charge us for the dessert.
When we get the bill my mother points to a line item which reads “Lava Cake - $5.95".
Below this the prick has written “Happy Birthday” in big, cursive writing.
I am not happy.
I get up with the bill and go in search of the prick.
I have to wait for awhile, while he finishes up with one of his tables, during this time I debate going straight to his manager, I decide against that, because going above someone is not cool, and I’m very cool.
When the prick comes over to me I point to the bill and say very cooly, “I know it’s only six bucks and it’s not really a big deal, but charging someone for something they didn’t order is kinda shady.”
I said it very cool.
Thank God.
Cause then the prick scrunches his face in confusion, “I know, that’s why I took it off down there at the bottom of the bill.”
I look, and sure enough, obscured by the big, cursive writing, is a negative $5.95.
Turns out I may be the prick.
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4 comments:
That isnt really your fault! It shouldnt have been on the bill anyway! I am hurt you didn't bring Dad down yonder to the roadhouse for a good 'ole fashion "yee haw" for his birthday!!! We are not pricks.... and our meals come with salad! :)
OMG a classic tale of open mouth insert foot. I hate it when I am the prick too!
Oh man, that was a funny story though! Thanks for the chuckle!
i hate that "soup or salad" trick. they ask a question and think that we'll be obedient and answer and bingo! they just added an extra 8 bucks to the bill.
he was just an ass all the way around. his original prickness cancels out your minor prickness anyday.
I've actually done that before...then I end up leaving a 30% tip
btw - you may've set some blog record for uses of word "little" in teh first few paragraphs - I thoughty you went to a restaurant for midgets (hmmm, I just got an idea).
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