When I was 19 I worked at a small chain restaurant/ice cream place. A woman came in with her three small, unruly children 15 minutes before the kitchen was set to close and I was the only server there. I come to the table with a smile, and she glares at me. OOOH this is going to be fun. Before I am able to get anything out of my mouth she says: “I have 30 dollars. That’s all. You need to make sure that the bill isn’t over 30 dollars and we all need to eat and have ice cream.”
Ummm are you kidding me? How in the sam hell is that MY responsibility?! Great, so obviously NO tip, and now I have to do math on top of it. I went to my manager hoping he would say something to the woman but he said, “The customer is always right!” so I was on my own.
After the most difficult dinner/dessert service of my life (complete with MANY substitutions, send backs, and my manager having to comp due to her dissatisfaction) the bill came to $29.63.
A 37 cent tip. Wonderful. I was busy doing my closing procedures in the back, so when I arrived at the table to cash out the bill… it was empty.
SHE HAD STIFFED ME.
The manager blamed me for not watching them more closely (though he was the one that was working the FRONT register and watched them leave), so I had to PAY FOR THEIR MEAL.
So there it is, the Cherry on top of the Sh*t Sundae