Tonight we had the March Madness games on.
I work in a sports bar.
What does that mean?
Most of you read those two lines and realized the place would be packed.
Not everybody was so clever. Take this one woman, for example. She showed up with 4 adults and 18 children and was shocked and offended when - in the beginning of the first game - I couldn’t immediately seat them.
Hell, in the best of circumstances a party of 22 can’t expect immediate seating without a call ahead or reservation (neither of which do we take.)
But this ignorant shitbitch thinks I’m going to seat her right off because she gets all huffy with me? Riiiiiight.
Her: Well how long will it be?
Me: I have no idea. Most of our tables are here until the end of the games.
Her: Well go see how long they’ll be!
Me: You want me to go ask people how long they’ll be at the table before they leave so you know how long you’ll have to wait?
Her: That would be great! Thank you so much!
Me: I’m going to get you a manager because there’s no way I’m doing what you just asked me to.
After a short bitchfest at the manager because I wouldn’t go be rude to other tables for her, she finally conceded she probably wasn’t getting her way, threatened to never return, and mercifully left.
How stupid can you be?