Treat your waiter kindly…or else…

Ok, I was writing today and couldn't seem to make any headway... sometimes when I run up against a wall, I will just start writing from memories. The other day I was retelling a memory from my waiting table days. So I thought I would put it down on paper... er word, ahh blog... I haven't come up with a biblical application for this story yet (not for lack of trying) but figure I can share it here anyway.

This is one of those moments in my life where I should probably be embarrassed by my behavior but instead feel gleeful and satisfied.

"Hey, dude, there is something wrong with the ketchup. It tastes weird." They were my last table for the night. I had worked the lunch shift and the dinner, I was tired and ready to finish my side work and go home. I could see that the four college students (two girls and two guys) had poured the ketchup all over their cheese fries. "I'm sorry" I said. Let me get you some new fries and a new bottle of ketchup. I started to pick up the plate of fries when one of the guys said. "Try one and see what I mean."

I didn't want to try their French fries. "That's alright," I said. I will just get you some new fries. Then one of the girls said, "Maybe its just us. Try one."

I was tired, I wasn't on my game. I tried one. Its tasted fine and I said so. Then I told them I would go and order them some new cheese fries.

After dropping off the new fries the bartender called me over. My table of four college students was directly across from the bar. The bar tender, who had seen the whole thing said, "Dude as soon as you walked away from the table, they started laughing and it was pretty clear that they had put something disgusting in the ketchup you ate.

When he said this I felt dizzy with anger. I walked away from the bar furious at my own stupidity and at the fact that I was waiting on assholes. What could it have been. My mind came up with several disgusting options. The more I thought about it the more disgusted and angry I became.

I was burnt out and reminded of a conversation I had had with my best friend Eric who waited at another restaurant. Eric had shown me a list of names he had started keeping of customers who had treated him like crap and then not tipped well. He actually had their names... when I asked him what he was gonna do with it he didn't know. That's when I said, "you need to get out man, its time to find a new line of work..."

"Maybe it was time for me to do something else as well" I thought...

The I spent the next ten minutes trying to think up ways to kill them without getting caught. I admit, there was a little bit of murder in my heart. At one point I was walking by and they called me over. They were all laughing and smirking and though I wanted to throttle them, I put on my nice face and said, "What can I get for you?" They ended up ordering this particular restaurants version of an ice cream Sunday.

I went back to the kitchen, found a rather private area next to the freezer and fixed them a very special Sunday.

After spitting in it and licking all the four spoons and then putting them in the ice-cream Sunday, I took it out, dropped it off and said "Enjoy, guys."

I admit it, I snapped.

A couple of minutes later I dropped of the check and saw that the Sunday was gone and all four spoons appeared to have been used.

"Did you guys enjoy the Sunday? I asked. "Yeah it was fine," one of the idiots, said. "Did you all eat it?" I asked. "I'm sorry?" said one of the girls. "Did everyone have some!?" I asked with a bit of force. "Yes." She said with a confused look on her face.

Then I looked each one in the eyes and finally I smiled (it was a rather evil smile) and said. "Good."

I walked away savoring the look of horror that had dawned in each of their eyes. Then I thought to myself, "yep, its definitely time to get out of this game."