|So Saturday The Girl and I went to House of Pies in Hollywood. This is only significant because we’ve never been there together, she’s never been there at all, and because we had a horrible waiter serve us.
This guy came up to our table with the most detached demeanor ever. He asked if we wanted something to drink. When we responded that we both wanted water he started to turn away from the table. Never even asking us if we were ready to order. We just wanted a slice of pie, for goodness sake. Just before he totally turned around I told him, “And a slice of pie.” He turned around, asked us what kind of pie, and then left. A couple of minutes later he returned with a slice of lemon meringue pie for the two of us. We finished out pie, and then waited for him to bring us the check. He never returned to our table. We waited for 25 minutes and the guy NEVER came back to our table. We were getting restless, so we decided to simply to go the register and pay for the slice. Once in line the guy saw us there, started fumbling around another register, no doubt to get our receipt. That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. He punched a couple of buttons and then left. We finally got to the front of the line and the lady at the register asked for our receipt. We told her we didn’t get one, but to charge us for a slice of lemon meringue. Our waiter showed up again, milled around the register as the lady asked him what table we were. He then fumbled around and said, “Oh, the receipt.” Yeah, the receipt, I thought in my head. What the fuck else would we want?! So finally the lady rang up the bill and we paid. I didn’t tell The Girl not to leave him a tip, since I thought it was to be expected since the guy NEVER returned to the table to even ask us how we were doing. Unknown to me, however, she left him a dollar. For that kind of service he didn’t deserve a dime.