A friend of mine started seeing a therapist. I do not know all the ins and outs of therapy, or why she is going. She did tell me however that the therapist twice told her, "You seem like an anxious person."
Is that not the same as walking into a barber shop and being told, "You seem to have hair."
Why the fuck do you think I am here?
What about when I am standing in line at the coffee shop and the barista asks, "Can I help you?"
Now get on with the real question Mr. Obvious, "How may I help you?"
I expect great service at any restaurant. I will be satisfied, however, with adequate service. Do not make me wait for my menu. Ask if I am ready to order. Make sure my food arrives within fifteen to twenty minutes of taking my order. Ask if I need anything else. And do not make me go on a treasure hunt to track you down when I want to pay and leave.
Bad service will get you a ten percent tip. Rude service will get you nothing. You are not entitled to a tip, it has to be earned for providing at least the basic pleasant service.
|Warm Beer Cold Food Bad Service|
A number of years back, I went with some college friends into a local Canadian style eatery called Miss Chomedey. It was the typical Italian/ Deli/ Grill combination full service family restaurants with a liquor licence. It was a small step up from your usual diner.
Sitting in one of their booths, likely eating the cheapest thing on the menu, perhaps grilled cheese or the bambino pizza, we proceeded to drop some quarters into the old fashioned mini jukeboxes that sat atop the booth table.
25 cents for a song. Let's liven up this sleepy lunchtime crowd, we said.
Three quarters went into the jukebox and nothing happened. We pressed every combination of buttons. I may have even punched the machine too.
|Ghost in the machine? No, it's a country jukebox|
We called the waitress over and explained what had occurred. "We lost three quarters", we said.
To which she replied, "Oh the machines don't work."
"What do you mean they don't work. There are no signs up."
"No", she replied, "they haven't worked in a long time." And dismissed us as if her answer justified everything.
"Can we have have our change back?" We persisted.
"We lost three quarters."
"No, she said, "you shouldn't have put them in the machine, they are lost."
Disbelief led to anger. But I still managed to sputter out, "And when you are looking for your tip, you know where to find it. It's in the machine."