Bitter, Table For One


An inordinate number of absolute fucking dickheads are calling me this week. I had a conversation with a lady today that went like this:

Me: “Hello”

Bitch: “I’d like to make a reservation for dinner for four people on wednesday night next wednesday but I have a question I have a gift certificate for your restaurant i received last year and i just looked when i got it out of the drawer and it says it expired in may and are you to tell me (her getting angry….) that this is now worthless and i must throw it away(?)* because in my defense (and who is attacking you? me? I haven’t heard a sound other than your voice for five minutes) i’ve tried to make reservations several times and have not been able to do so and the people who gave us this are coming and it’s our anniversary and I just think it’s ridiculous that I can’t use this even though it’s expired and you must be able to do something for us…(trails off into talking to herself)”

Me: “(ummm) So you’d like to make a reservation?”

*indicates that while her inflection indicated a question, this was by no means the end of a sentence, and thus, does not warrant a typical question mark in writing, indicating any sort of pause in speech.

the fucking whore just took off and ran with it; jesus fucking christ with these people. Clearly one entire year is too short of a time to use a gift, and clearly it is our fault that you haven’t made a reservation. i just want to murder someone right now.

posted under Angry Customers
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