Ryan Zimmerman > Carlos Gonzalez
this couple’s bill was $60.62. it was the last table i had, and they left cash on the table. I went and picked it up and said said thanks, and asked if they needed any change. they replied no, i thanked them again, and i went to the computer to pay them out. i look at the cash in my hands, and i realize it’s only three twenties. not even enough to cover the bill, let alone a fuckin tip. i came back on the floor to tell them they were short, but they were already gone.
cashing out that night, i had to pay a dollar of my own money, since we always just round up or down instead of fucking around with change. i had to pay a dollar to wait on this table.
nights like these are when i agree with people who say that everyone should work in a restaurant or service industry. it’s not so you can find out that people are assholes. if you haven’t found that out yet, i don’t know what you’ve been doing. i guess just wait 18 months after you finish high school and think back to everyone you met and how many people you still talk to. You’ll realize there really aren’t many of those fuckers you’d wanna waste your time catching up with.
but what fucks with my head the most, and why i think everyone needs to experience working in a restaurant, is to learn that these people exist. they’re miserable, obviously. i’m upset they shortchanged me because it’s all i’m gonna think about for the next week or so. it’s gonna come to me randomly tomorrow afternoon while i’m walking on campus, and right before i go to sleep tonight, or in the midst of conversation with someone. this couple probably goes around, just doing shit like this. i don’t know why, or what makes them act that way, or why they’re even together. they’re quite, unassuming, kinda awkward. the woman is anyway, kinda sheepish, short modest hair and glasses, asking awkward questions, making it apparent she doesn’t interact socially very much. lots of people are like that though, i guess, but what the fuck happened to her that she doesn’t fucking tip? and the guy, he’s quiet, polite, tall, stocky. not weird like she is. normal guy. he spoke softly, they conversed. actually she kinda just talked the whole time and he listened. how did they meet? why do they even like each other? it can’t be enjoyable, it must be fucking miserable for them to go out in public, humiliating. that’s what i think about anyway, that these people exist and they’re rotting and walking and can’t be happy with their lives. they absolutely cannot. and if they are, then i don’t even know. if they’re genuinely happy like that, if that’s what happiness is, i don’t want to ever be fucking happy. just meeting them makes other people miserable. plus they don’t tip.
the thought of them sitting at that table, having a miserable conversation, them having miserable sex at their home, them sitting by the fireplace at a miserable christmas, them having a miserable dog, just their utterly miserable lives/existence. those are the images that come to mind, constantly, for the next week or so. i don’t give a fuck about paying a lousy dollar, i’d pay a hundred bucks to if i could have just gone on with my life not encountering these two people.