The waitress fucked up. She told the customer the salad special is $10.95. When he gets the bill it says $12.95. He’s screaming for the manager. Tonight that’s me.
“That salad has buffalo mozzarella in it. It came from Italy. Fluvio picked it up at Kennedy Airport. Do you know how much that shit costs us?” I tell the Maria the waitress.
“Oh please take care of it please!” she pleads.
I go over to the table.
“Hi sir I’m sorry for the misunderstanding but the salad special is $12.95. The prices vary day to day and the waitress just made a mistake,” I say apologetically.
Staring at me with his beady little eyes the man yells “CHANGE THE PRICE TO THE ONE SHE QUOTED!”
Like the cyborg killer in Terminator, a menu of options flickers up in the view screen of my eyes
WAITRON TARGETING SYSTEM – ACTIVATED.
SPECIES: Yuppie Boomeranus Maximus
STRENGHTS: Money, Political Power
WEAKNESSES: Greed, Vanity, Inflated self importance, Viagra addiction, Fifty year sense of entitlement.
a. Say sorry and run away like little bitch. CAUTION! Will cause Waitron Unit to self destruct
b. Tell target to lower voice. Remind him he’s on private property.
c. Yell back
d. Sucker punch target in larynx
e. Use thousand yard waiter stare.
None of these options are satisfactory. The man’s wife looks at me like I’ve strangled her kittens. Saying nothing I reach out, gently take the checkbook out of the man’s hand, and walk over to the register.
I reduce the salad to $10.95, run the credit card, note the name, and return the slip for his signature.
“Have a nice evening sir.” I say politely. They say nothing.
While the couple is getting their coats I remember a previous incident we had with this guy. He bought a steak, ate it, and refused to pay for it – saying it was too expensive. Fluvio lowered the price. This cheapskate uses the threat of making a scene to bully himself into a cheaper meal.
As he walks out he give me a shit eating “I got over on you,” smile.
Tonight I decide discretion is the better part of valor. I just wish them a nice evening.
After they leave I go over to the reservation computer and look up his name. Oh, he has a reservation for New Year’s Eve. How nice. He requested a window seat. Too bad.
I juggle the reservations around. I place a large party in Beady’s coveted window perch. The party is coming earlier so there is no way he can snag that piece of property.
Beady is now sitting next to the men’s room this New Years Eve. He will flip. His wife will cry. It will be glorious.
SEARCHING FOR NEW TARGET…………………………………………………..
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