Those two phrases seem to not go hand in hand.
At least not from what I had happen last night.
I was at work, having a so-so night when I got a table of 2 adults and 3 kids. Happens all the time, no big deal. They were kind of pushy, but nothing that I couldn’t take since I do this every day.
Everything goes smoothly, they run up a tab of about $140. I was hoping for a fat tip from that because I provided them with some decent service if I must say so myself.
They pay and are leaving. I approach the table to start cleaning it off when the one older woman comes back to the table and says…
“Oh, the one little girl had a throw up accident.”
I just looked at her like she was an idiot because she definitely was that.
Not only did they have the nerve to leave me a whopping 10% tip, but they also had the nerve to leave vomit at my table. I’m a rational man who believes that if something like that happens, it’s your duty as a parent to take care of it. Of course I’m being too idealistic about it. Once again, I can’t expect too much from some of the simian lifeforms that I serve.
The problem with all of this is that I’m afraid of vomit to the nth degree. I can’t stand seeing it, smelling it or even hearing it. I get panicked and nauseated. It’s the worst phobia I have and I know I’m not alone because from what I’ve read, it’s the number one phobia amongst people.
After much deliberation (and asking other people to clean it up,) I say to myself “how bad can it be?” and get prepared to clean it up myself. They threw a bunch of the linen napkins on the table, so I figured that it was just a little bit and can handle it myself. I get a pair of latex gloves and a trash bag to just sweep what I can in there and throw it away. I get to the table and get down to business and pick up the napkins to find a good portion of the table covered in the contents of this little girls stomach.
Instantly, I get nauseated and want to have a good bout of sympathy puking. I tell my boss that I cannot do it. There’s no fucking way that I can get in there and do this or else I’m going to be puking and need to go home.
Luckily, my good friend, Jon (whom I still owe a beer for his bravery) manned up and cleaned the table completely. He admitted that he has a strong stomach, but even that made him queasy and wanting to hurl himself.
After that, jokes and laughs are being thrown around and it’s business as usual.
If the mother of that little girl ever reads this, fuck you.
Let me say that again, FUCK YOU.
I don’t know what kind of deluded world you live in, but you are responsible for your child’s actions. That includes when they vomit. This is not negotiable. You brought that little miracle into this world, so any action of your child is your responsibility, not mine. I did not make your child vomit, so why did I and my friend have to deal with the consequence of it?
It’s because you’re fucking lazy. If you can’t accept the responsibility of that, keep your fucking legs closed. There’s no reason for it.
And the young ladies and the table next to you said the same exact thing. You’re unfit. Don’t reproduce anymore.
HOSTAGECALM 