Monday, July 19, 2004

I take it all back
 
Saturday night's Arsehole was Prince Fucking Charming in comparison to last night's contender. (hurriedly checks blog archives to confirm absence of links to employer's website)
Apparently the way I walk is offensive. Hmm. Thats a new development.
So this arse comes in, and hes the owner of a whole bunch of Nasty (intentional capitalisation to demonstrate degree of nastiness) fast food "restaurants" (in the loosest possible definition of that word) and he brings with him a bunch of his managers. One of these managers comes up to the bar to buy a drink, and as shes getting her passport out of her handbag to demonstrate that she is in fact 18 (and has been for a whole five minutes) I spy one of our pepper shakers in her bag. Note, our pepper shakers are neither gold nor diamond encrusted, they are not rare antiques, nor do they do a little dance while they give you pepper, they are simple, functional, and really nothing to write home about. So I bust her, and say that while shes there she could give us the shaker back, and we have a wee laugh, she looks really embarrassed and apologises and says it was just a joke, and gives it back. I mean, its a pepper shaker, not the fucking till. Problem solved. Or so I thought.
Later in the night, I pass by the table, and one of the salt shakers is missing. People constantly amaze me with their ability to delve new depths of stupidity, and this silly child was another example. I'd already busted you stealing stuff, you daft cow, so if something else is missing, where am I going to look? I don't want to embarrass her in front of her workmates and bosses however, cos thats not cricket, so I slip through to the restaurant to have a word to the manager, and ask her what I should do. I know what I want to do, but given that I'm not in charge, its not my place, and with something like this, one wants to be as delicate as possible. I am not reknowned for my delicacy. So my esteemed colleague goes through and has a wee word to the table, that I've already busted one of their party trying to steal stuff, and that theres something missing off the table again, and if it could be returned before they left, all would be well.
And thats when the excrement began to hit the airconditioning. The boss guy, herein known as Fucknuts, proceeds to take great offense that someone would accuse one of his employers of stealing (um, actually you great dunce, I already caught her. Redfuckinghanded. And its on camera for your viewing pleasure). It takes him about 20 seconds to give me the "I'm very well known in this town, I employ a lot of people, I have a lot of respect in the business community, I have loads of influence blahblahblah". Mate, I've heard it all before. I don't care if you're the Queen of Fucking England, you don't get to steal stuff or bring people in who do so. Besides, don't get all hoity-toity with me, you own some fast food joints that are an international joke, and by the way, I can smell new money ten miles off, and you stink of it!
So hes going nuts at me about being accused of stealing, and says he wants to speak to the manager again, so I go to get her, and as I'm walking out, he yells "Don't you stick your nose up in the air at me young lady". Actually, I'll stick my nose up at any body I feel like, and especially at you, because you are behaving like trash, I don't care how much money you have. Unlike a lot of tall girls, I refuse to hunch over and hide my height, I am proud of being tall, and was raised to stand up straight. Anyway, enough of my offensive posture. His silly cow wife, a total Merivale Matron with the hair and the glasses and the fucking attitude starts having a go at me as well. The manager comes back through, and then Fucknuts starts to talk to her like she works for him, and shes trying to keep her cool and not tell him to fuck off, and manages to tell him that she will take her advice under consideration, while his wife's telling her that its difficult when you're so young etc, and generally being a patronising cow.
Then Fucknuts has the audacity to claim that essentially we are in the same business, the only difference being that we sell alcohol, and they have more customers. Interesting. Your business is a culinary and social joke, and we are one of the most popular restaurants in town, known for service, quality food and great atmosphere. Bit of a stretch there, mate. He claims that hes never been so appallingly treated in a restaurant in his entire life and that we will be hearing from him soon about the matter. Yippee, we say.
Then the manager is on the phone with the owner, upset that she may have handled the situation wrong, and of course he says to her, you did the right thing, that guys got another think coming if he thinks I'm going to bend over backwards to appease him, I can't wait for him to call so I can tell him what I think of people that try to steal from me and then get ratty with my staff. Yay. Top bloke.
Its really quite amusing what you can tell about people, theres a certain type of person you encounter, and it takes them a matter of seconds to tell you that either they know the owner (response: really? So do I, isn't that funny), or that they are very important and influential in this town and know a lot of people (well in that case you'll have heard our reputation, or have heard of the owner and what other positions he holds that are potentially damaging to the reputations of people that piss him off)
So if you catch someone stealing stuff, even a lowly pepper shaker, and then more stuff goes missing, and you ask for it to be returned, without singling someone out in front of their peers, then apparently that is inexcusable behaviour.
Personally I thought it was verging on rational and sensible, with a dash of not wanting a fuss over such a small thing, but as it turns out, if you have a lot of money and employ a bunch of minimum wage spotty school children, then you are exempt from normal rules, and you must have your arse kissed on an hourly basis.
What do we say kids? We say BOLLOCKS TO THAT!!!!! You can kiss my arse, and my good posture while you're at it, fucking fucknuts. And I refuse to eat the stuff you serve and call food, cos ITS CRAP!!!! BK so kicks your arse.