So in my very young college days, I was the assistant night manager of a 24 family dining restaurant. I had a crew of about 6 servers, plus bussers, cooks and a dishwasher and my job was deal with the customer crap.
And boy, let me tell you, there was a neverending bunch of it. Here are some of the doozies.
1. My most senior server (God bless this woman, she’d be serving tables for longer than I had been alive and I didn’t know a more patient, sweet person) comes up to me and informs me that the party of 8 college guys at table 25 are very drunk, loud and somewhat obnoxious but so far not yet a problem. OK, thank you for the heads up. She gets them drinks, takes their orders, no issues. They are very drunk, very loud, but, so are most of the other patrons at half past three in the morning.
When she presents the check (gratuity added, party of 8 or more), the issues begin. Why are you charging us extra, we’re not going to pay it, that’s an illegal charge, I’m a law student and I know, etc., etc. Then, they firmly told her to go perform a heinous act upon herself.
She came to me and said, “NOW they are a problem,” and let me know why. Being that my owner and boss had a very low threshold for such things, we called the police, as was store policy. Now, the college was in the big city which abutted a small town, which my restaurant was in. A very quiet, peaceful small town. Which means, that when my restaurant called the police, we had them there in usually under a minute regardless of the reason for the call.
Two officers show up in less than 90 seconds, walk in and confront my customers about the bill and one of them throws a plate at the cops and it’s on. The rest of the dining room is watching the show as half the college guys are trying to get away from the fight and the other half have jumped into it. There is a lot of yelling and cussing and suddenly another five cops storm in the door, both from our town and the sheriff’s office. There is a lot of nightstick swinging and more yelling and arms milling about but NO PEPPER SPRAY which I was very grateful for. Five of the college boys are drug out in cuffs. The other three pay the bill without a peep and even leave my server a decent tip on top of the auto-grat. After that the shenanigans died off for a bit as word got around that we’d send folks to jail.
2. Short-staffed one night, so was waiting tables to help out my poor serving staff. A couple comes in, they’re intoxicated but not obliterated drunk, just feeling happy and good. The young lady asks if we have milkshakes.
I let her know that we do and list off the flavors we have available. She selects a strawberry shake and he gets a Coke and off I go to get their drinks.
I come back with the drinks and take their order, drop it off to the kitchen (we used pads and pens for orders, this was back in the dark ages of the early 90’s) and run another table’s order out to them and hear:
“Hey ASSHOLE!” I swivel my head around to see who is calling who names in my store.
It’s strawberry shake girl. She is standing up, pointing at ME and appears to be quite upset. I drop the food at the proper table and go to see what her issue is.
“What’s the problem?” I ask her.
“You dumbass, are you trying to kill people? I’m ALLERGIC TO DAIRY!“
"Then why, please tell me, did you order a MILKshake?"
"I didn’t know it had actual milk in it. Who does that, anyway?”
I wanted to bang my head against the booth. "What happens when you drink milk?“ I ask, hoping that she isn’t going to need an ambulance.
Her gentleman companion breaks out in a huge grin. "She farts like you wouldn’t believe, dude. It’s genuinely the most amazing and disgusting thing at the same time. Epic farts.” He has started to laugh, which infuriates her even more.
I offer to comp the shake, and bring her out something that will not result in future embarrassment, but she is quite content to pay for what they’ve ordered and leave now that she has been “emotionally damaged” by the lad she’s with.
Fine with me. I get the check, they pay, he tips, she bitches about him tipping “because they MADE me drink milk,” until he loudly corrects her in front of the cashier that she ordered it and shouldn’t have been a bitch to everyone about it.
It’s nice to see that sometimes there’s a happy ending and karma gets them while you witness it.
Beer is ancient, it existed in Egypt about 5,000 years ago and people drank it more than water because water back then was hard to purify, and was pretty much a toxic mix of parasites and poisons. As such, all of ancient Egypt was completely drunk 99% of the time, from the slaves to the pharaohs. This may explain why in the 16th dynasty, Prince Thothmotep III and his adviser Ankhamen The Lesser got into a burping contest stated in hieroglyphics to have lasted 13 summers.
Thothmotep, being the reigning king, didn’t play fair. He had his servants pump air into his bowels hourly for the entire 13 year trial, making his burps not only more loud but infinitely more smelly. Ankhamen was said to have borne about ten of these burps every day from the pharaoh, only retaliating with his own conventional beer burps, which were inferior in every measurable way, but still he persevered.
It wasn’t until the death of Setfu Khufir XVIII that Thothmotep, farting and burping about 15 debens of toxic gas at the funeral and knocking out half the paid funeral mourners that the people of Egypt decided something had to be done. Thus was erected the Sacred Butt-Plug of Amunpep Drosser-Bernstein.
Now, you can’t just go stuffing things up the holy rump of a living god, so the people created an ingenious plan to forever constipate their ruler. It began when Lessi-Versiris-Horxor (Not to be confused with her uncle Lessi-Horxor-Versiris) seduced the god-king with an aphrodisiac made from leaves of the Eucalyptus tree, an import from the land that would one day be called Australia. Once seduced she convinced the king that his epic burping and farting was inappropriate during lovemaking, and thus he became willing to insert the Sacred Butt-Plug of Amunpep Drosser-Bernstein. As a result, he died of a bowel obstruction, bringing the great burping contest to a close.
This great lesson of ancient history remained unknown until 1966 when Zahi Hawass discovered the tomb of Thothmotep and the mummy of the great ruler, with his innards relegated to canopic jars but his orifices still plugged with the curse, “Death will come on swift wings to whoever unplugs the pharaoh’s butt.”