Posts Tagged ‘server’

Review Evolution

May 17, 2016

There is a four letter website out there that stands for everything that is wrong with social media. This website allows any asshole with a cell phone to spew hate filled reviews attacking people in the service industry because they are upset that there is no Amber Ale on tap. They seem to have no control over what slanderous rhetoric its users post. Anyone who has ever waited or bussed a table, tended bar, been a floor or general manager or worked the door as a security guard will tell you that 90% of what you read on this website is bullshit usually made up by a user under the influence of alcohol. I understand that speech is free in this country but personally attacking an employee of an establishment you patronize, while drunk and recently ejected, does not equate to freedom of speech in my mind.

I have so many negative reviews about me that it is impossible to count. I have been called both racist and sexist on this site. I have been accused of being a pathetic little man drunk with the power of running a restaurant on this site. I have been referred to as a shameless prick who inexcusably backs his staff on this site. One time some schmuck actually posted a picture of a dog taking a shit and had the nerve to compare me to the pile of dung on this site.

Mind you these nasty things have been written about me because I was just trying to do my job. When was the last time something that happened at your job got blasted out on the internet with the express purpose of making you look like a jackass? Think hard. For me it’s much easier to recall because it happens every several months. If you want to pull me aside and say these awful things to my face that’s fine. It most likely won’t end well but one way or another it will end. Don’t be a coward and run to your laptop or tablet and blatantly make shit up that threatens my livelihood. Once it goes up on this site it is there for the public to read and now not just one person thinks I am all these awful things but the entire world is encouraged to make the same rash judgement.

So, you say to me, “It’s just a silly little website. Nobody cares that much about what is written there. Readers are smart enough to decipher the legitimate reviews versus the bullshit ones.”  First of all, the people who use this site are not that smart. Trust me I deal with them on a daily basis. If they were in a spelling bee versus a stack of bricks I’m taking the bricks, big time. Second of all people do care. I have seen people cry after reading a nasty review that was written about them. I’ve met people in this industry who have lost their job because they got too many bad reviews most of which were bullshit. If people didn’t care what was written on this shitbag site then certain restaurants wouldn’t discount customers who write five star reviews about them.

I have been in or around the restaurant business for 20 plus years and have been in the craft beer industry the last ten and what I have found is that people in this industry care about what they do, a lot. This is a career not some summer job motherfucker and every day I go to work I try to be better than I was the day before. When things don’t go well I lose sleep or drink to excess usually both. When my teammates have a bad day I feel it, because I care about them too. We work long hours on our feet trying extremely hard to provide our patrons with stellar product and service.

To do all that and then have some punk ass permanently stoned college hipster or some Quaalude popping soccer mom who have never waited a table in their life tell the internet that I suck at my job is something I am no longer able to just sit here and take. In fact, a very good friend of mine and I are going to open a restaurant for all these expert reviewers of a business they have never been employed in and it’s going to be called “Go Fuck Yourself” (patent pending). That way when they don’t like how things go down in our house they can reference the sign on the front door.

Service industry people unite. They want to write about us then let’s write about them. There is a website called GULPU.com™ coming to you soon. It’s our site to talk about how awful they are. For now, get stress off your chest with us at https://www.facebook.com/GULPU/

That way the next time some redneck with dip spit dribbling down his chin tries to fight you because you wouldn’t serve his pregnant girlfriend alcohol the real story will be heard too. Oh yeah, I almost forgot “Fuck Yelp”.

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10 Server Commandments

May 3, 2013

The service you get when you go out to eat dinner a lot of times can make or break your experience. No matter how good the food is if I repeatedly get bad service from the same place I will stop going. Bad service creates an uncomfortable ambiance and can be insulting. In the service industry your livelihood is the gratuity you receive for your service and you have to earn it every day.

Granted as someone who works in the industry you would expect me to be a very hard man to please and at times I can be. But if you ask anyone who currently works as a server they will all agree their fellow service industry employees are usually the best tippers. I believe in tip karma and in order to maintain balance in our strange world I always take care of my brethren. When I get bad service I tip twenty percent. When I get good service I am most likely going to help make your night and quite possibly your weekend.

In order to consistently make twenty percent as a server there are ten basic rules to follow to keep your customer fat, drunk and generous. When I say basic I am not saying being a server is easy because that couldn’t be further from the truth. Being a server is like having to run over hot coals for four to six hours straight while screaming customers jab your sides with javelins. When things go wrong servers usually get blamed by the customer, the kitchen and their manager so on a nightly basis there are multiple people to please.

That being said these basic rules I am about to lay out are easy enough that a blind monkey with one arm could execute them. That is why when a seemingly normal human cannot follow the ten basic commandments of being an efficient and successful server it is very frustrating. To be in the presence of blatant ignorance and stupidity angers me to no end especially when the person portraying these traits expects me to give them money for their services.

So to all you servers out there who can’t figure out why you average six percent in tips I give you the Ten Server Commandments:

Rule One:  Act like you like your job. Now I know a lot of servers hate their jobs for various different reasons and that’s okay. People in every field of employment hate their jobs. However, when the hatred you have for your job reaches a table of customers it is not okay. Part of being a good server is making your customer believe that there is no place in the world you would rather be and there is nothing you would rather be doing then serving them food. If you hate serving so much that you can’t fake it for intervals of less then a minute when dealing with my table it is time for you to choose a new career.

Rule Two:  Never, ever under any circumstance chew gum while serving me. The second I see you pop a bubble I will be asking for my check and leaving. I don’t know if there is something that makes me angrier than having someone taking my order as they noisily and rudely chew on gum like a cow chomping on grass.

Rule Three:  Do not camp at my table. It’s one thing to be friendly and engaging, it’s another to tell me your life story including how your baby daddy just left you again and that your second kid might have to go without for his birthday because the restaurant has been slow. I don’t care. Believe me. If I wanted to talk to someone as I ate I would have sat at the bar.

Rule Four: Be sober. I know this seems like common sense but you would be shocked at how many restaurant employees across the world show up shitfaced to work on a regular basis. If you reek like vodka red bull’s and shots of fireball and continually sway as you try to focus on how I want my burger cooked than I will most likely let your clueless manager who couldn’t manage their way out of a wet paper bag with scissors in their hands know that their employee is intoxicated and costing them business.

Rule Five: Write everything down. I don’t care if you have been waiting tables for your entire life and claim to be able to recite every order you have ever taken if you don’t have a pen and paper out I automatically assume that my order will be fucked up.

Rule Six: Always keep whatever beverage or beverages I have in front of me full. This might be the most important rule to me. Keeping me full of my beverage of choice keeps me happy and makes me more generous when the bill arrives.

Rule Seven: Never blame the kitchen. I hate it when after my food runs long or comes out wrong the first thing the sorry no account server says is, “Sorry, the kitchen’s been fucking up all day I don’t know what’s wrong with them.” This immediately says to me that you are terrible at your job because you just threw the person who works five times as hard as you and makes twenty times less money under the bus in hopes that your fuck up won’t affect your tip.

Rule Eight: Don’t disappear. Sometimes once food gets dropped a server will automatically assume that their guests who are eating are good to be left unattended to for a while. This is a mistake. Once I start eating that’s when I start needing help. As I eat I drink so please reference Rule Six. If my beer glass stays empty for over five minutes because you are out back smoking or talking to your girlfriend if and when you return to my table you will be entering into an extremely hostile situation.

Rule Nine: Don’t drop my check until I ask you to. Nothing says you want me to leave and fast more then giving me my check before I’ve asked for it. Just because I finished my eighth beer does not mean I am done for the evening. At the diner during breakfast fine no problem drop away, but during dinner service keep that check open and in your apron until I say differently.

Rule Ten: Don’t check the tip right in front of me. If I am still at my table and the only thing keeping you from getting off work is grabbing my check book so you can finish your checkout than by all means swipe it off my table. However, do not open the book in front of me so you can read the tip line on my credit card receipt or count the change I left you for the effort. This is offensive and bush league and the next time it happens to me I am taking my tip back.

If you are a server and you follow the Ten Server Commandments then myself and people like me who over tip on a regular basis out of fear of an invisible karmic force that rules our universe will not only tip you fat but we will also continue to come back.

Churchill’s Renaissance IV

March 1, 2013

March 2nd 2013 promises to be the greatest day in the history of beer. At 11 am tomorrow Churchill’s Renaissance IV, A New Hope, begins and this year’s installation will prove itself to be the greatest craft beer and food festival San Diego has ever seen. Now, for my money that means Churchill’s Renaissance IV will be the greatest craft beer and food festival in the history of the entire world.

This year’s Renaissance marks the ten year anniversary of publican Ivan Derezin’s hostile takeover of the pub. Under his watch it has transformed from a back alley rug munching swingers bar into the premier craft beer and food pub anywhere. To honor this momentous event Derezin and his staff have devoted themselves to making Churchill’s Renaissance IV the greatest party that you, the general drunken public, has ever had the pleasure of getting shit faced at.

Our draft lineup tomorrow is being hailed as the greatest assortment of craft beer ever offered anywhere. Certifiable Craft Beer Connoisseur Jordan Wilson has done a lot of things he will most likely live to regret to put together such a rare collection of beers. Two of the highlights of this year’s lineup are Bear Republic’s Churchill X IPA and Mother Earth’s Winsten Tenth Anniversary DIPA both of which are being released for the first time anywhere tomorrow.

Last year’s line began at 3:10 am Saturday morning, seven hours and fifty minutes before the pub even opened. As I write this it is 3:24 am Friday morning and this year’s line has already begun. I left the pub forty five minutes ago and saw the first Finest Hour fanatics huddled around fires heating up cold cans of cream of corn as they anxiously awaited Saturday morning to arrive.

These dedicated people will be awarded with not just first choice of the fine beer but also of the amazing craft food we will be offering that day. Mix Master Chef AG Warfield has done the impossible. He has crafted a food menu that rivals our amazing beer menu. When you taste one dish you will want to taste them all. I suggest you bring a belt with seventeen extra notches because once you start eating AGIII’s food you won’t ever want to stop.

Serving this amazing beer and food will be Churchill’s crack staff of craft experts who were voted Best Looking Restaurant Staff for 2012 in this year’s restaurant edition of Penthouse. We are all going to be working extremely hard on Renaissance and will all at one point either be on the verge of freaking out or actually freaking out. So please remember your manners and understand when 850 people show up at a pub all wanting the same thing drinks and food might take a little bit longer than usual to come out.

If you would really like to help us speed up service I highly recommend that you walk through our doors already knowing exactly what it is you want to drink. That means when you approach the bar do so with your first round ready to be ordered. When faced with a bar that is ten deep and a server ticket printer churning out 200 tickets a minute I have no time for you to try to think about what you are ordering. When I ask you what you want if you hesitate for even a half second I will be gone faster than I appeared.

People who are prepared and able to order four beers not by style and not by brewery but by the actual name of the beer will easily get everything they want all day long. Another suggestion is once you have ordered, instead of watching me weave in and out of my equally insanely busy bar mates please pull out your method of payment. Having your cash and credit card ready saves us all precious seconds and allows me to move on to the next customer craving my attention. Trust me your fellow drunk will thank you.

While this all may sound intimidating don’t fear because despite the massive crowd, overworked staff and the possibility of vomit around every corner Churchill’s Renaissance IV will be the most fun you’ve had since you lost your virginity. So get those tents ready because the madness has already begun and if you have any chance of getting a coveted pour off the last keg of 2012 Stone Bro in existence I suggest you get in line an hour ago.

Josh M., Las Vegas, NV. GULPU

July 28, 2012

For starters, as CEO of GuerillaDeSwine Productions I would like to personally thank you, the general drunken public, for an amazing turnout this past Sunday for the LOVE LIFE book release/signing party. We broke the record for most books sold at a pub in San Marcos, CA. ever. Special thanks are in order to Ivan Derezin for letting us host this tribute to local literature at the best craft beer pub in the world, Churchill’s Pub and Grille. Another special thanks are in order to the best band in all of San Diego, the Paragraphs for blessing us with one hell of an acoustic set. Big ups to Jesse Hofbauer, the head of the GuerillaDeSwine Productions music department for making such a special performance, happen.

The best part of the festivities was that it was all in the name of supporting local literature and celebrating National Buy A Book Day. Congratulations to Americans everywhere for returning their eyes to the written page. GuerillaDeSwine Productions has long been a proponent of people buying the wonderful books we sell and we encourage the country to continue to do so at a rapid pace.

The next GuerillaDeSwine Project on the horizon is the release of GULPU.com which we are proud to say is very close to being finished. Despite various attempts at government-sponsored sabotage GULPU.com is very real. So real in fact, I am pleased to publicly announce that it will be released Sunday, August 12th. Ever since we have introduced GULPU.com to you, the general drunken public, the offices at GuerillaDeSwine Productions have been overrun with letters and emails of various people’s reviews of customers or clients who have gone above and beyond to be flaming douchebags. Here is one of my favorites.

Josh M., Las Vegas, NV. GULPU

We originally started doing Tuesday wing night as an attempt to bring people into the restaurant mid week. Sure the wings were a wash at forty-nine cents a piece, but if every person who eats eight wings drinks one to two beers then the profits eventually add up. Most people do, which is why we still offer our mouth watering buffalo wings for so cheap. Unfortunately, our discounted delicious wings also attract people who should be 86ed from every restaurant they’ve ever step foot in.

They come dressed in tank tops, board shorts and flat brimmed baseball caps of teams they have never heard of. As they park mommy and daddy’s SUV in the handicap spot 10 little fucktards who have never bussed a table in their life slither out of the vehicle.

The hostess shudders when she sees them stumble through the door putting each other in headlocks as they do. They demand a table for ten and grow impatient when that’s not something we can accommodate due to the fact that every table in the restaurant is full.

Once their table is finally ready four to six more of them show up and just assume that they can add on extra chairs and tables as they see fit. When reminded that a restaurant isn’t their fucking  house they respond with an irrational succession of bro bombs best left to be ignored by an intelligent human being.

Instead of ordering a two dollar soda or a four dollar frosty beer of the week these kids sporting iced out watches, texting on their five hundred dollar phones and wearing designer sunglasses can’t seem to afford anything other than ice water. Not only that but each one of these ten people will require their waters to be refilled every five minutes.

It takes three of us to run their food. When we arrive at the table no one there seems to remember what it is they ordered leaving us standing around holding hot plates while these idiots discuss who got nine buffalo wings and who got eight barbecue wings.

After several minutes of playing wing sauce detective everyone has the food that they claimed they ordered. We ask if they are good and they respond with nods as they’ve already shoved their mouths full with wings as if it were their first meal since mommy and daddy dropped them off at college.

Midway through their meal and two of them claim we gave them the wrong wings. Of course this is after they have eaten half of them already. Inevitably they blame the server for messing up their order. I point out that five minutes ago not only did they not know what they ordered when they were asked if the plate in front of them was right they said yes.

We replace the wings, but honestly caving in to make these little shits happy makes me feel like keying “Hail To The Redskins” into the side of mommy and daddy’s SUV while they are busy rubbing their face in the giant stack of twenty wings which will only cost them ten dollars. Instead we nod and smile and check on them frequently throughout their meal as we do with every table.

Other then needing a refill on water and ranch they always say they are okay. We go through four to five gallons of ranch every Tuesday wing night and a large percentage of this ranch is going to this one table. They use so much ranch that you can no longer see the wing drowned in all that dressing. It’s to the point where we could charge people like this discounted ranch with a side of wings.

When the check comes they scoff at the amount and immediately demand that it be split. Splitting a check for ten people who can barely remember what the fuck they ate just five minutes before can be difficult and is always time consuming.

After finally figuring out who gets charged what there is always one or two of them who claim they are being charged for something they were never served. Again they blame the server even though when asked five to seven times if they were okay they never seemed to mention this mistake they were now so sure we had made.

Then these cheap little bastards have the nerve to leave my servers a penny because they were upset we wouldn’t let them order two hundred wings to go. The ones who can’t spare a penny leave nothing but a stack of gnawed wing bones and a pool of ranch dripping off the edge of their table. When these little schmucks die they will be waiting tables in hell and mommy and daddy won’t be there to ensure their hands steer clear of real work.

JOSH M., LAS VEGAS, NV. GULPU

If you like what you read above then we here at GuerillaDeSwine Productions suggest you sign up with your email here http://www.gulpu.com/

Our day is coming. August 12th experience review evolution, at GULPU.com.

P.S. BUY MY BOOK LOVE LIFE BY CLICKING THE LOVE LIFE LINK UP AND TO THE RIGHT

Jason C., Chicago, IL. GULPU

May 26, 2012

I don’t like to toss the words frosty and bitch around lightly, but sometimes there is no other way to describe certain females. There are just some women who make it a point to be a royal pain in the ass. There are men like that too except we call them a douche bag or asshole or dickbag. The term frosty bitch, however, is one I like to reserve for the fairer sex.

It was college night and we were slammed. I was by myself behind the bar and maintaining pretty well despite the constant stream of server tickets spewing out of my ticket printer. I pulled three tickets and on my way to making those drinks took an order from a couple at the right end of the bar. After placing six drinks in the server window I proceeded to mix the couples drinks. I served them with a smile and moved onto a group of three guys to the left of them.

They all ordered beers and on my way to the draft tower I snagged two more server tickets from the printer. As I was pouring the beers I scanned the bar. Three more server tickets had just printed out. The couple I had just served was good, the guys next to them were the ones I was serving, there was another couple to the left of them who were good and to the left of them was one guy who had just walked up and was patiently waiting with his money in hand.

I put the server’s drinks in the window and then served the three guys their beers. I gave the solo guy the head nod and then proceeded to cash out my current order. As I did that up walks a girl who I could tell from the slam of the front door had literally just walked in. She stood next to the guy I was going to help next and tried to catch my attention by bending over the bar showing her cleavage. I avoided nipple and eye contact and kept moving.

I dropped off the three guys change. Four more server tickets printed out. I approached the guy who had been patiently waiting. Before he could even begin to order this frosty bitch started waving her hand in the air.

“Excuse me I was here first.”

I ignored her and maintained eye contact with the guy. He began to order when again she waved a hand in the air.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I was like here way before him. “

I looked at her. She was in her early thirties but based on her makeup and skankified outfit it was clear she was hoping to pass for twenty-two. Her blatant attempt of looking younger was failing miserably.

“Excuse me Mam, but no you weren’t here first. I will be with you as soon as I help the customers who have been waiting longer.”

“Whatever. A gentleman would help the woman first.”

She then glanced at the guy I was originally trying to help with a crooked smile that smacked of a sickly attempt at seducing him. Instead of being interested in this forward flirt on her part he looked scared and confused. He motioned for me to help her first.

She ordered a lemon drop martini. I chilled her glass and then went about pouring the four server tickets. I placed the drinks in the server window and then began to mix her drink. The guy I had tried to help had walked away.

I put her drink in front of her and told her it would be eight dollars. She gasped in disgust.

“Really? It took long enough. I feel like that’s way too much money.”

She begrudgingly pulled her wallet out of her purse and slid a ten dollar bill across the bar. I gave her the change which she quickly snatched and put away. I saw that the guy I had tried to help before hadn’t left but had simply moved to the other side of the bar.

I went to go help him again when out of the corner of my eye I saw her reach for my fruit caddy. I was able to intervene before she stuck her grubby little hands all over my freshly cut fruit. I politely informed her that her touching my fruit was against health code and made it clear that if she wanted more fruit all she had to do was ask.

“Wow, rude. All I wanted was another lemon,” she said.

I handed her another lemon. The guy ordered a beer. The ticket printer pumped out two more server tickets. They were both beers. I poured them and then as I went to put them in the window I saw this frosty bitch with half her hand buried in the server’s fruit caddy.

I watched as she grabbed a couple of cherries and dropped them in her drink. She then stuck her dirty skank hand back in the caddy. I put the drinks down and slammed the lid of the caddy down on her. She screamed at such a high pitch it sounded like a cat was being tortured. She pulled her hand back and it was full of cherries and lemons.

“I told you not to do that once already. If you do it again I will have to ask you to leave,” I said.

She let out a defiant cackle and then threw the fruit in her hand at me. Before the fruit hit the floor I snatched her drink and threw it away. I then came around the bar and escorted her out. She kicked and screamed and cursed and skanked but her words fell upon deaf ears.

When I returned I was finally able to help the guy who had been waiting so patiently. Once he got his drink he and everyone else that had come in contact with that frosty bitch breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her leaving.

Churchill’s Renaissance III Revisited

March 10, 2012

We survived Renaissance, barely, and once again Churchill’s Pub and Grille proved to have the best selection of craft beer and food served by the finest restaurant/bar staff in the world. That’s right, I said THE WORLD. Feel free to further expand our egos at the pub by showering us with over exaggerated compliments in regards to our exceptional skills. That being said I reiterate that some of us barely survived and that’s not even in regards to the staff. Sure we worked our asses off but you, the general drunken public, drank and ate your asses off and for that we love you.

The line to enter the pub allegedly started at 3:30 Saturday morning. We have since confirmed this to be true by consulting one of the many secret cameras we have hidden in and around the pub. By 6:30 it was already leaking out of our parking lot. When I walked up at ten it had grown to a thousand according to the crack head at the halfway house who repeatedly cursed at me to stay off his porch.

At 10:55 the staff shared one last moment of meditation followed up by a group hug. Then, the doors flung open and the madness began. People bum rushed the bar in a frenzied attempt at being the first to order Churchill’s Finest Hour. Waves and waves of customers slowly marched in and filled the entire bar, restaurant and patio. Ninety-Nine percent of the crowd was polite and patient as they realized that amongst the insanity the entire staff was doing everything in their power to keep people drunk, fat and happy. Those who were rude or impatient usually only got served once.

The vomit level was low much to the relief of our bar backs who were forced to bring their own puke buckets from home. The one glaring upheaval did unfortunately happen in the fire pit which was thankfully not on. Anyone who has ever caught a whiff of a flaming pool of vomit knows how horrible it can be and that it often leads to a ferocious cycle of group puking.

While most customers ordered efficiently so we could help them as quickly as possible there were those who decided that they were more important than all the other customers waiting for food and drink. That’s right string order boy, I am talking to you. At a quiet bar where it’s just you and your buddies making the bartender or server make multiple back to back trips for you is accepted, although still frowned upon. At a bar filled to max capacity with rabid beer aficionados foaming at the mouth to be served a drink this sort of behavior is unacceptable. If you can’t order all your drinks at once you are making others suffer. Even at my most busy and scatter brained I can handle up to eighty-one drinks in my mind at once, so please don ‘t be scared to try to overwhelm me. The quicker I move on from you the quicker I can help the cute girl in the corner, who if I keep serving in a speedy fashion may get drunk enough for you to get lucky.

Other than string orders the only other glaring ordering offense was found in those people not ready to be waited upon. As I pour beers I scan the bar and have a pecking order in mind of who I am going to serve first. It goes regulars first and then it switches to first come first serve. I generally plan out the next five people I am going to help even before I have approached any of them. If I ask you what you want and you look away to consult a friend or beer list then by the time you face the bar again all you will see is the back of my head. I will return, eventually, but that pecking order I just talked about, you’re now at the bottom.

The ultimate asshole award for the day goes to that idiot I personally had kicked out myself. While I doubt he lacks the ability to read I hope he gets a hold of this because I have a message for him.

“No, bro, I didn’t think you were drunk enough to be cut off, I just plain didn’t like you. Your constant groping and sexual harassment of every woman who walked up to bar coupled with your loud and obnoxious voice/laugh/personality/presence/face/existence was what did you in. Had I not been stuck behind the bar I would have grabbed that cell phone you were shit talking me on and shoved it so far up your ass your tongue would be text messaging every time you spoke.”

Despite these minor complaints Churchill’s Renaissance III, The Revenge of Ivan, proved to be the greatest day in the history of beer just as some brilliant writer predicted a week ago. What made it so great was the food, the beer and most importantly the people, both staff and clientele. For that I thank and applaud everyone involved in such a wonderful event. The next big pub event will be St. Patrick’s Day, which compared to the distinguished esteem of Churchill’s Renaissance will be a bro-infested slop fest filled with strewn jello shots and people’s wives being left for dead on bathroom floors. Can’t wait!

The Bad Bartender Chronicles

February 26, 2012

A lot of male bartenders think they are really cool because they work behind the bar. Let’s be honest bartender gigs are hard to come by, especially for men, so any person who has achieved that position should be proud. However, there is a line that is not to be crossed and unfortunately the prestige of pouring drinks gets the better of a lot of guys. These self-entitled fraudulent drink peddlers make the customer feel as if getting served by them should be viewed as an honor no matter how shitty or rude the service is.

I walk up to a bar and the bartender greets me with attitude and a sneer. While I order he looks past me to check out a waitress who is walking by. I order a vodka tonic but instead of hustling to mix my drink he casually walks over to the waitress he was just checking out. He says something that is in his mind witty and gets a courtesy laugh out of the girl who knows if she doesn’t play along her drink tickets will be ignored all night. He then walks over to the ice well and slowly pulls out a glass. A friend of his walks up to the bar and stands next to me. They slap each other five, bang knuckles and then act as if their hands have just exploded. There is an exchange of bros and then he goes and pours this person a beer.

As he hands the beer off they discuss whether or not the waitress is a slut. I can feel myself becoming dumber by listening to these two talk, as if stupidity were an air born disease. He scoops some ice out of the well and without taking his eyes off his buddy goes to put the ice in my drink. Half goes in the glass, the other half spills on the bar. He doesn’t seem to notice.

I hear the printer behind the bar print out a server ticket and watch as he tells his friend to hold on a minute. He then rushes to grab the ticket. Once he does he sets two glasses next to mine. He fills them carefully with ice and then proceeds to pour nice, stiff drinks. He rushes off to put them in the server window. When he returns he picks up his conversation with his buddy. He finally fixes my drink which consists of four ice cubes, half a shot of vodka and a whole lot of tonic. He slams it in front of me and says five dollars.

At first I’m not even sure if the drink is for me because he hasn’t looked at me or paused his conversation. I stare at him and wait for confirmation that we are actually involved in some sort of transaction. A minute passes before he finally looks down at me.

“What bro? I said five dollars.”

I slide him a twenty. He holds it in his hand as his buddy and him now discuss the latest UFC fight. Five minutes pass. Finally, I interrupt and ask for my change. Both of them stare at me with looks of disgust. The bartender scoffs and slowly walks over to the register. He hands me a ten and a five and resumes the conversation with his buddy. To me that means he is either expecting me to not tip or tip him five dollars. Neither of these is a realistic option. I know this arrogant schmuck deserves to be stiffed but not tipping isn’t in my physical makeup. I interrupt his buddy and his meeting of the minds again and ask for change for a five. I receive another scoff and after another minute of conversation he finally obliges. I leave a dollar and curse my tip karma obsession as I realize my tipping this waste of human flesh is simply reinforcing that bartenders can be as shitty or rude as they want and still receive a tip.

However, that dollar is the last one he will get from me as I would rather drink a warm forty of Olde English with a homeless toothless crack head on a street corner than ever stepping foot in that guy’s bar again. This self-entitled dickbag is one of many like him out there so beware. I urge you to be on the lookout for this sort of behavior and when you see it simply leave the establishment you are at and never go back.

GULPU Quick Tips

February 11, 2012

The craze over GULPU.com has reached a fevered pitch. We are so overwhelmed with your submissions we still haven’t had the opportunity to launch the official website. We beg of you to remain patient. With the help of our parent company GuerillaDeSwine Productions we are currently interviewing web designers to get GULPU.com off the ground. We haven’t had any luck yet. The interview usually falls apart right around the swimsuit competition which is the ninth stage of the official GuerillaDeSwine Productions hiring process. Never fear we are confident that we will come across the right designer to bring GULPU.com to life. Anyone interested please send your resume plus head shots to HR@GuerillaDeSwineProductions.com with the headline of GULPU.com web monkey.

In the meantime we at GULPU.com have come to realize that since we understand what it means to be a shitty customer it is our moral duty to offer hints to help the general public as to how they can improve themselves as consumers. It is our goal to eliminate ignorant and rude behavior completely from the business world. In order to do this we compiled a team of experts the likes of which this world has never seen. We locked these experts in a room without windows and fed them raw meat and booze for seven hours a day for seven days. As a result they came up with three tips to help the general public be better at getting served.

It all starts with common sense. We all have it, allegedly, so use it. If you order a well done burger, don’t complain that it is overcooked. Check that; don’t order a well done burger. If there isn’t any food left on your plate you probably won’t be receiving a refund, so don’t bother asking. Long Island Iced Teas are strong so if you order one and then complain that it is too strong that complaint will most likely fall upon deaf ears. When at a bar have both your ID and money out. Competent bartenders take pride in getting you your drink as fast as possible and would appreciate the same common courtesy. Nothing frustrates a bartender more than watching some fucktard dig through their wallet for five minutes searching for payment for a product that’s already delivered. That sort of stupidity is a good way to get ignored for the duration of your evening.

Next up is politeness. Unfortunately due to the high number of parents who are intellectually ill-equipped to raise a child the notion of being polite has been lost on several generations of customers. Being polite is simple and is always more pleasurable then being rude. What that means is don’t whistle or snap your fingers, don’t bang on the bar, don’t roll your empty bottle around and don’t wave money in people’s faces. Don’t yell, and more importantly certainly don’t yell baby, bro, barkeep, wench or garcon. Now, most of the people dumb enough to do stuff like that truly believe that not only are they funny but that they are endearing themselves to the person who is serving them. That is a lie and acting like a jackass will never get you anything but skipped.

Lastly, please don’t ask stupid questions. We can’t stress how important this particular quick tip is. When you ask a stupid question not only does someone have to take the time to listen to your asinine question, but they then have to offer an answer that will be a failed attempt at not embarrassing you. Our experts came up with several examples.

A man approaches the bar. He nods over to the jukebox.

“Does your jukebox play music?”

Another guy walks up to a bar with fifty taps.

“Do you guys sell pints of beer?”

A girl calls the restaurant on Christmas Day and upon someone answering the phone asks, “Are you guys open?”

This may sound like a logical way to find out if a place is open on a holiday, but I assure you that someone isn’t at work on a day the business is closed answering the phone just to tell people they aren’t open. If someone is there to answer the phone that means the place is open.

We know that some of you with actual working brains will say that these rules seem like they are easy enough to be left unspoken. Unfortunately for every one person who gets it there are ten bros lined up right behind you ready to make our lives miserable. We at GULPU.com urge people to share these rules with their friends so that we as a society can improve the lives of service industry people everywhere.

GULPU!!!

January 6, 2012

The government has informed me via a sealed letter that due to legal restrictions the website GULP is not available for public use. Apparently, although I can neither confirm nor deny whether what I am about to say is true, the term GULP is the name of some sort of secret government program which the government wishes to keep the general public from learning about. We here at GuerillaDeSwine Productions are used to Government interference in our business and are pleased to announce that what was once GULP.COM is now GULPU.COM! The website is still under construction but the response to our initial announcement of GULPU has been overwhelming. Here is just one of the many GULPU reviews we have already received.

Emily B. San Marcos, CA

Two ex or current streetwalkers walked in the other night. One had on a puffy jacket with a fake fur-line collar while the other had shorts short enough to require two hairdos. When asked if they were eating dinner they exchanged annoyed glances and then replied “yes” with an over exaggerated gasp. After looking at a menu skank one asked if the mac and cheese was really six dollars. I fought the urge to ask her if most restaurants she went to listed fake prices or if maybe she was used to bartering for food. When I answered yes she waved me off in disgust.

They were ready to order when I returned with their drinks. One ordered the Mushroom and Bleu burger, well done, which is a wonderful way to ruin a good piece of meat. The other ordered the mac and cheese she had wished to negotiate down in price earlier. In addition she wanted a grilled cheese. I guess walking the streets called for a constant intake of cheese, amongst other things, into her body. I placed the order and fifteen minutes later it was up. When I placed the food on the table the mac skank let me know that she thought the food had taken way too long. I began to explain that ruining a good burger by ordering it well done took extra time but she waved me off before I could finish.

The burger skank flagged me down after taking two bites from her burger. She said there was something funky tasting on it. I pointed out that the mushroom and bleu burger had bleu cheese on it and perhaps that was what gave off a slightly funky taste. She said that wasn’t it. She loved bleu cheese. I took her plate away and had the kitchen make a plain well done burger.

The mac skank flagged me down. She pointed at her mac. She asked if the mac and cheese was really six dollars. I nodded yes. She waved me off. I returned with the well done burger. They both let me know this time that they thought the food had taken way too long. They proceeded to scarf the food down as if it was their first meal in days and that their figure-obsessed pimp may be lurking around a corner somewhere ready to smack them down for eating.

I cleared their plates and listened as the mac skank trash talked the food and restaurant to her friend as if I didn’t exist. Without even looking at me or stopping her conversation she signaled for the check. They left in a hurry so I immediately checked the check book. There was money in it but it was eleven cents short. I decided against going after them when I realized they clearly needed that eleven cents way more than I did. I would have rather paid for their food and once the kitchen was finished making it just throw it away rather than having those two in at all.

Please don’t come back, whoever you are.

Thanks Emily for being a part of GULPU! While we are updating our software for the GULPU.COM launch feel free to leave your reviews in the comment area of this blog.


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