An Open Letter to the B*tches at Table Six

I get it. You are 40-something hot mamas out for a NIGHT ON THE TOWN! (jazz hands). No night on the town is complete with lots and lots of 6-dollar-a-glass cheap chardonnay. MMHMM!! OAKY!!

So I was taken out of the rotation to help do my boss's accounting. Because, apparently, law school = accounting school = getting paid 3 bucks an hour to enter year-old receipts into an arcaane computer application. Score. Anyway, so I had NO tables. And I was ready just to be done with work, call it a night, and go home with my 0 dollars of tips. But then YOU four walked in. And the hostess just KNEW --- THIS TABLE IS FOR BANANA.

So you all ordered your shit wine and your salads and your salmon and it was great and delicious. And all I wanted to do was to go home. I try to bus your salmon plates, counting than I could slip out soon because I actually had PLANS and wanted to booze it up myself.

"Oh no, we're still picking at it!!!" TEHEEHEHEHEHEHEE, the table erupts in slightly-drunk, peroxide-blonde, midwest-housewife giggles. I dealt with you folks at the country club. NO MORE.

It is now ten minutes later, 7:30PM.

I try for the plates again, offer some coffee (no dessert was offered, because I wanted to leave. I know, I'm horrible).

"Oh, no coffee for us, just some more wine!!" TEHEHEHHEHEHEH.

Gawd, hilarious, ladies, HILARIOUS.

So another round of gross chardonnay and I drop the check "Here's the check for you ladies, any time you're ready." LIKE NOW! NOW WOULD BE GREAT!!

It's now 7:50. Fifteen minutes should be enough to finish up conversations and take a look at the bill. "Have you gotten a chance to peek at the check?"

"OH NO!!! We haven't even TOUCHED it!!" HEHEHEHEHTHEHEHEH. Again, with the hilarity.

And it's really bloody adorable to make your waitress wait twenty minutes to close out your check. Charming.

So, it's 8:15. I was supposed to be meeting my friend at 8. Awesome. I go over to the table, the checkbook not having been touched. I bus EVERYTHING off their table. There is nothing on their table. It is white and clean except for the check and glasses of water. Which they haven't touched. Because of the wine.

8:20. Still nothing. I go over there and refill the water glasses. Which aren't so much empty except for maybe they forgot that there is a waitress who needs to be paid at some point and it would be great if, fifty minutes later, paying bill would be an option. I don't honestly care how long they stay. Just pay the bill so I can close out my credit cards and GO HOME.

8.30. The bus boy has done the ol' accidentally-grab-the-check,-feign-not-speaking-English-Oh-We-Still-Haven't-Looked-At-It-Giggle, Still no dice. LISTEN UP LADIES. I do NOT care if you want to DISH DISH DISH the whole night away. I really don't. But you CANNOT just sit there with an unpaid check on your table. Just pay the check, and let the waitstaff do their thing. But an hour is TOO LONG to fish your credit card out of your purses and hand it over to me. I don't care if you tip me 10%. I just need you to pay your BILL so I can pay my BOSS the money for your chardonnay. That's it. JUST LET ME GO HOME.

Unfortunately, they did not let me go home and I ended up just having one of the other waiters deal with them whenever they decided to leave. Apparently, the waiter stopped by around 8:45 to let them know that their waitress left a little while ago and they laughed like it's SO HILARIOUS to make the waitress wait around for their sweet asses to decide to pay the bill.

Angry fist!