| General Non-Fiction posted September 26, 2021 |
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Overworked waitress deserves a pass
No Stinting on Tipping
by Elizabeth Emerald
This evening, I took my friend Chuck to dinner as a belated birthday celebration / reward for saving me a plumber'$$$ fee by fixing my sink.
Not trying to cheap out; the concatenation is merely descriptive. I intend to treat Chuck to another dinner next weekend. Be assured he'll hold me to it.
Our waitress, whilst serving us, was obliged to tend to a party of eight, each member of which, as Chuck noted, ordered drink(ss), appetizer, entree, coffee, and dessert.
I ordered a crab cake, hold the tartar sauce, side of lemon wedges. The menu listed simply "crabcake," no mention of accompaniments, but I know they often come drizzled with mayonnaise-based sauce, which I cannot abide.
The crab cake was presented on a bed of greens, all drizzled in pink Rémoulade.
I objected on the grounds that I'd specifically requested that I did not want sauce, only lemon (which was not provided).
The waitress tartly replied that I'd said "tartar" sauce; this was "Rémoulade."
I argued that my point was I didn't want sauce.
She argued back, I held my ground, she stalked off.
Twenty minutes later (delay in the kitchen, not her fault), she returned with the unadorned crab cake. Her snippy attitude had dissipated; she said she'd given my crab cake to another person who'd ordered same.
The crab cake was lying on a substantial pile of mesclun; I asked her to please bring balsamic vinaigrette.
The waitress laughed mirthlessly and snidely retorted that I'd asked for no dressing, then brought it to me.
I tip at least twenty-percent, often more, to compensate for having a lower bill than most. I never withhold money on account of subpar service, provided the server is pleasant.
Generally, I'd deduct substantially for pissy attitude; in this case, given the mitigating circumstances of her being harried, I gave a fifteen-dollar tip on a fifty-six-dollar tab.
After all, I also fell short of pleasant.
This evening, I took my friend Chuck to dinner as a belated birthday celebration / reward for saving me a plumber'$$$ fee by fixing my sink.
Not trying to cheap out; the concatenation is merely descriptive. I intend to treat Chuck to another dinner next weekend. Be assured he'll hold me to it.
Our waitress, whilst serving us, was obliged to tend to a party of eight, each member of which, as Chuck noted, ordered drink(ss), appetizer, entree, coffee, and dessert.
I ordered a crab cake, hold the tartar sauce, side of lemon wedges. The menu listed simply "crabcake," no mention of accompaniments, but I know they often come drizzled with mayonnaise-based sauce, which I cannot abide.
The crab cake was presented on a bed of greens, all drizzled in pink Rémoulade.
I objected on the grounds that I'd specifically requested that I did not want sauce, only lemon (which was not provided).
The waitress tartly replied that I'd said "tartar" sauce; this was "Rémoulade."
I argued that my point was I didn't want sauce.
She argued back, I held my ground, she stalked off.
Twenty minutes later (delay in the kitchen, not her fault), she returned with the unadorned crab cake. Her snippy attitude had dissipated; she said she'd given my crab cake to another person who'd ordered same.
The crab cake was lying on a substantial pile of mesclun; I asked her to please bring balsamic vinaigrette.
The waitress laughed mirthlessly and snidely retorted that I'd asked for no dressing, then brought it to me.
I tip at least twenty-percent, often more, to compensate for having a lower bill than most. I never withhold money on account of subpar service, provided the server is pleasant.
Generally, I'd deduct substantially for pissy attitude; in this case, given the mitigating circumstances of her being harried, I gave a fifteen-dollar tip on a fifty-six-dollar tab.
After all, I also fell short of pleasant.
 Recognized |
Artwork by MoonWillow at FanArtReview.com
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