Karma's a bitch, and so am I

Mondays at the restaurant are not a pretty sight. On the deadest restaurant night of the week, we offer all food at 30% off (which is better than the employee discount -- don't get me started on the fact that customers have a better discount than employees).

You can imagine the type of clientele this attracts.

From the Appalachians to the gutters of Compton, cheap people come from miles around to heckle servers and feel like royalty as they order ribeye, ahi tuna and shrimp for next to nothing. And if they tip at all, it's never on the amount before discount.

One of the Monday regulars is a bitchy blonde in her late 40s who brings in an assortment of younger people in their early 20s (I still haven't figured out this motley group and why they all hang out together). Because she's such a horrible bitch, she flirts with the bartender, who gives her free drinks. Instead of ordering from the server at her table like she's supposed to, she periodically walks to the bar, gets everyone at her table a round, and orders minimal food from the server. Then she tips a little less than 10 percent.

I've gotten in trouble for dealing with this bitch. A few weeks ago I informed her that all her drinks must be ordered from me. She said, "I'll order my drinks from whomever I want, Mr. Waiter, and I choose the bartender because he's my buddy."

I grabbed her bar-purchased drink off the table, said "If you want to order drinks from the bar, then that's where you'll be served," and set her drink carelessly on the bar. My manager was not pleased. I was given a "warning" and no tip from the bitch.

Last night my good friend had this bitch in her section. The same thing happened...the bitch ordered her drinks from the bar, copped an attitude when confronted about it, and then did not tip.

She also left her Gucci sunglasses in the booth after she left.

A few hours later, once my friend and I had been cut, we went to the deep recesses of the parking lot. With the combined forces of our feet, we demolished the bitch's sunglasses while gleefully shouting obscenities. Then we disposed of the evidence in the nearby dumpster.

So, yeah, don't fuck with your servers.