Wednesday? Why?!?
OK, so if you've ever been to Bagelheads, the place I work, you would quickly notice some important features about the store. First, there is one of those long, black welcome mats leading from the door to a cash register, which is strategically placed in between two large glass cases housing all of the bagels, muffins, etc. There is also six large menus hanging on the walls and ceiling around the cash register area. In front of the register is a tip bucket, and a bunch of smaller menus, with the six large hanging menus condensed onto one page. The restaurant is rather small, seating around 50ish.
Upon seeing this, I think any competent person would presume that this establishment is NOT a "sit-down-and-we'll-wait-on-you" restaurant. We have no host/hostess. We wear jeans and a work t-shirt. We are not waiters/waitresses.
Now that the scene is set, I'll introduce the character. The antagonist, if you will. I guess complete jackass is fitting, too. I will call him Rich.
I do not know this man's name, but rich is exactly what he was. He was wearing the standard retired, rich costume: pointlessly-expensive polo shirt, and what I call "yacht shorts". You know the ones. The short shorts that only the clinically senile and/or uber-rich men would wear in public, because they can do so without society calling them out on it. He also had the leathery, tanned skin that comes from being outside for most of your years, and a watch that cost more than my car. He walked in with a scowl on his face. The time was 50 minutes until close.
Rich immediately stopped inside the door, scanning the store for a few moments. He caught us exactly after a huge rush had left, so the place was practically empty. I cordially said "Hello," which made Rich turn and face me, still scowling. I'm not sure if he knew I said "hello" to him or not. Whatever. I smile, and nod my face downward to him. Rich then walked over to a table in the corner and sat down.
Normally, when someone walks into Bagelheads and sits down, they are usually waiting for someone before ordering. Again, any competent person would be able to piece together that we do not have a waiting staff, but back to the story...
I assumed Rich was waiting for a friend or whatnot, so I began my closing procedures. After a few minutes (five, tops) I looked up to see Rich approach the register, scowling even more.
"What do I gotta do to get waited on???" said Rich in an irritated tone.
This question caught me offguard a little, considering we don't "wait" our tables. "I'm sorry?" I replied in a "I-heard-exactly-what-you-said-but-I'll-be-nice-and-help-you-with-a-big-fake-smile" tone. Yes, that's a tone.
"Hmmph... So do you guys have any menus at least?" asked Rich.
Now, this made me smirk a little, because by the time Rich had fully approached the register counter, he was actually now surrounded by six large menus hanging from the walls and ceiling. That's just funny.
"Why, yes sir," I responded. I then picked up one of the small, condensed menus that was approximately two and a half feet in front of him at that moment, and handed it to him. "When you're ready to place your order, just come up here and let me know."
And that's it. Right there. I just said it. In that sentence, I let him know tactfully that we don't have waiters walking around, ready to serve on a whim. Well, I thought it was pretty concise and tactful...
"Ughh...Well then, can I get a diet Coke???" Rich said. I grabbed a cup (because one fountain machine is NOT behind the counter, also leading one to deduct that this is a "walk-up-and-place-your-order" place), and turned back to Rich, just in time to see him returning to his seat in the far corner. At this point, I was very confused. He definitely heard me say that he had to come to the register to order stuff. Did he misunderstand me? Did he ignore me?!? Whatever. I decided to finish whatever random task I had started before that exchange, and I poured a cup of diet Coke for him, just in case he somehow didn't hear me correctly.
A minute or two later (no exaggeration there), Rich again approached, very tired and disgruntled. With hands slightly raised, and in a incredibly condescending tone, he asked, "Sooo, where's my diet Coke???"
With an apologetic fake smile that would have made Applebees proud, I said,"Ooh, I'm sorry. Here you are..." As I then walked to the touch-screen register and hit a few buttons just to make a noise and give Rich a hint, I inquired, "So, do you know what you want?"
Rich let out a long, annoyed sigh, and replied that he wanted a salad for now and some bagels for later. He then again, AS I RANG IT UP, turned around, sighed, shook his head disapprovingly, and walked back to his seat. I was stunned.
As I realized I now had to go to his table and tell him politely and accurately as possible that we normally ring up the order and exchange the money simultaneously, he proceeded to ask me condescending, irritated questions and said plenty of offensive, dehumanizing statements. I got his money, fake-smiled, and went back to the register.
There were two other situations that I'm just going to leave out, just to shorten this a little.
When the whole ordeal was done, Rich approached the register one final time.
"Now, about those bagels?" he asked.
"Here," I replied, very directly.
"Well, don't I have to pay for these?" he asked, making me feel like I was a five-year-old. I had had enough. I put the bag of bagels I had already prepared for him on the counter.
Very annoyed and absolutely spent after a stressful day, I said, "Normally, yes. You see? That's how this works. But, since we closed over twenty minutes ago, I'd say just take 'em. Go."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Go."
He then pulled out a wad of dollar bills, found what looked to be the most wadded-up Washington in the group, and plucked it from its companions. One single dollar. He held it in front of him for a moment, and with a smug. leathery smile, and dropped it in the tip bucket. Rich finally turned and walked out of our lives.
I don't understand how money can make people (some good, some not) into such self-centered, abusive, narcissistic monsters. I do understand that I've now got the green light to refuse service to Rich if he returns, and that I can call the cops to have him removed from the premises if necessary.
This was the last (and most offensive) of FOUR incidents today that made me completely lose all hope and faith in humanity. Game over.