A little PSA to commemorate tying myself back into a server’s apron tonight:
1.) When you refer to me as “our waitress” I sort of get all giddy imagining dumping this coffee on your head. And in your husband’s lap. You two clearly don’t need to be reproducing.
2.) You may feel that you are entitled to demand that I cut up your appetizer for you at your table, however, you, Madam, are an adult and have just requested that another adult cut up your food. In front of your friends. And you have to live with that.
3.) 15% is not a good tip. That’s just the way it is, there’s no way around it. Unless I was rude to you, you don’t get to feel all warm and fuzzy about yourself and your truly shitty tip.