The kind of girl I like...
Loves the arts. Doesn't necessarily have to be in step with my aesthetics (that's a big plus though), but can appreciate and "get" what I see in it. Loves sharing as well as receiving and discussing all forms of art and media. Big plus if artistic themselves; most points for musical ability. A girl with pipes is my Achilles' Heel.
Sharp wit and sense of humor. Laughing at my jokes is half the battle; keeping up with me makes her a winner. This typically involves not being afraid to make a fool of oneself; by all accounts: a dork. Ability to both register and deliver sarcasm and an appreciation for eccentricity.
Physically: sharp-featured and slender, but with curves so she looks like a woman, not a 10-year old boy. Elegant and fluid in motion; can dance/has rhythm, as well as an interest in keeping fit. But at the same time, can completely veg out and watch a marathon of entertainment on a lazy Sunday while serving one another chocolate-covered strawberries.
Has to be able to reach orgasm. Intimacy is a dead art form otherwise. Also is adventurous and likes to spice things up.
Confidence, confidence, confidence. Biggest turn-on imaginable. Not afraid to be herself, knows what she wants and goes after it. Doesn't blindly abide by society's standards and makes her own rules. Can keep in step with my lust for knowledge and is absolutely unabashed about her own intellectual curiosity.
Reserves judgment and keeps an open mind. Can play devil's advocate and is selective about when to let emotion take over. Isn't afraid to cry, but doesn't use it as a crutch.
Has a very strong family background and good genetics. Definitely wants to have kids one day and would stop at nothing to drop everything for them. Meets with the approval of my friends and knows how to carry herself without my having to babysit.
Agnostic, or at least wise enough not to subscribe to any form of absolution. If religious, doesn't push beliefs or discriminate. Is open to endless dialogue about it.
Gives me my space. If I feel encumbered, I will run. My alone time is absolutely paramount, as well as time to hang with the boys. Can't be jealous of my time with girls either because half my friends are female. Is also open and spontaneous enough to share an occasional 72-hour blitz where nothing in the world matters but us two.
Is an able communicator and works to understand and take an interest in me. I'm one of the unique ones, so it takes a bit of patience, but the payoff far trumps the price of admission. Has to be idiosyncratic herself and keep me guessing at times. 2nd-rate, run-of-the-mill, predictable girls bore me within minutes, if not seconds.
Must be willing to try new things out all the time, especially food. Enjoys spicy. Isn't afraid to drive out two hours to a dinky hole-in-the-wall based off the recommendation of the crazy guy on the bus.
Enjoys people. Watching and learning and breathing in. Enjoys competition and never makes it easy for me.
Video games or sports. Pick one.
Takes an interest in EVERYTHING. Looks things up she doesn't know and presses to learn more. Major points for Discovery/History Channel junkies.
Low-maintenance, low-maintenance, low-maintenance. Doesn't need to set an egg timer every time we're on the phone and keep a running tally of who's done what. Knows when to doll up occasionally and looks GORGEOUS when she does.
Isn't so serious that she can't make fun of people. Talking shit is ok in small doses because it just feels so fuckin good, and everyone needs it sometimes. Vents but doesn't whine. Optimism is key; must be as infectious as mine.
Down-to-earth but head in the clouds. A dreamer who understands her own limits because she has solid grounding. Isn't afraid to take risks. Idealistic, but rational. At the same time, is not afraid to follow her heart despite the "right" thing to do; is in touch with her gut instincts.
Deal-breakers: cigarettes, drama, stupidity.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Shit to get done
organize street team
mailing list
buttons
posters/prints
paypal account
remix CD
management company
mail out shirts
music video
mailing list
buttons
posters/prints
paypal account
remix CD
management company
mail out shirts
music video
Saturday, February 9, 2008
My Official Best Story of 2008
There's this cute front desk girl by the name of Michelle that I have fun, flirty conversations with every time we work together. She's always dressed in all black (as all hosts do), and disliking the job, she always has a dour look on her face. That's why it was a surprise to me yesterday when I worked a lunch shift and saw her come in with her family, dressed in casual wear with an exuberant, radiant vibe about her. When she passed by me, I told her, "Wow, someone's in a good mood today!" She smiled and laughed. There was definitely something about her that day. Seeing her in the context of different clothes and without the stresses of work made her even more attractive. I'd walk by the table and she'd wave and say hi to me. There was one point where she was walking to the bathroom. I grabbed her hands when she walked by, raised them up, and told her, "Damn girl, you are really lookin' good today." My coworker asked me who that was, and I explained it was Michelle. "Yeah," Bernadette said, "she must have hair extensions, but you're right, she looks really good." Michelle and I continued the winking and smiling game throughout her family's whole stay.
When they were about to leave, I decided, "Well damn, I better pounce on this one." Michelle was waiting outside the bathroom, so I motioned for her to come over. As she approached, her family left the bathroom and tailed her. Not wanting to ask her out in front of her family and expecting to see her within the next couple nights, I just said, "Oh, don't worry, I'll tell you later." The family looked a little confused, but they had followed our flirting all day and cooed, "Oooh, he's gonna tell you later!"
It was around 3pm at that point, and the restaurant was dead, so I was walking around the building. I got to the lobby and noticed they hadn't left yet. The family was at the bakery counter getting some desserts to take home, and Michelle was sitting on a bench by herself, texting something on her cell. I thought, "Perfect!" and saddled up right next to her. I said, "Man, I'm glad I finally get you alone so I can tell you what I've been meaning to say." Just then, her sister came over. I asked her for a couple minutes I could have with her sister alone, but they explained that, as twins, they do everything together. I didn't remember Michelle telling me she had a twin, but I was a man on a mission. "That's fine, I've got no shame with you hearing this. (turn to Michelle) I think you look absolutely gorgeous and I would love to take you out some time."
The sister crossed her arms and said, "Uhh, how old are you?" In the back of my mind, I'm thinking, "Michelle's 18, why is this girl getting on my case?" I actually had to think about it for a second because it was my birthday just last week. "Uhh, I'm 26." She laughed and said, "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. My sister's 17." ??? ??????? ?? ? What the hell was going on? Suddenly the dawning reality started setting in. The hair extensions. The make-up. The attitude. The twin sister. And even the voice. I hadn't even given it two thoughts. I turned and looked at the girl sitting next to me, and she didn't look like Michelle anymore. I felt my face turn about four shades of red. I could only mutter, "...uhh, what's your name?" Anne-Marie. I'd never felt so awkward, but somehow my flight-or-flight instinct had unearthed that they were visiting the Bay Area from a small town outside of Reno called Lucas. The mom had finished getting desserts and made her away over to us by that point. I put my hands on my thighs and took my leave with, "Well, I think I've embarrassed myself enough here. I'm gonna go." The mom, hands on her hips, sternly said, "Yeah."
I just walked around the restaurant in near-hysterics with my mouth agape. I told Bernadette right away, who I had told of my scheme to ask "Michelle" out. "That..girl...was...not...Michelle." She cracked up and couldn't stop laughing. I went and told Sean, the guy who had waited on them. "Yeah, I could have told you it wasn't her. Jesus, that's hilarious."
It was just some small-town girl who fell right into the role of the cute, quiet little front desk girl with a body type and facial features to match who flirted back with me. I still can't get over some of the things I said and did to her, especially when I grabbed her hands and told her how good I thought she looked. I'm still in a slight state of shock.
When they were about to leave, I decided, "Well damn, I better pounce on this one." Michelle was waiting outside the bathroom, so I motioned for her to come over. As she approached, her family left the bathroom and tailed her. Not wanting to ask her out in front of her family and expecting to see her within the next couple nights, I just said, "Oh, don't worry, I'll tell you later." The family looked a little confused, but they had followed our flirting all day and cooed, "Oooh, he's gonna tell you later!"
It was around 3pm at that point, and the restaurant was dead, so I was walking around the building. I got to the lobby and noticed they hadn't left yet. The family was at the bakery counter getting some desserts to take home, and Michelle was sitting on a bench by herself, texting something on her cell. I thought, "Perfect!" and saddled up right next to her. I said, "Man, I'm glad I finally get you alone so I can tell you what I've been meaning to say." Just then, her sister came over. I asked her for a couple minutes I could have with her sister alone, but they explained that, as twins, they do everything together. I didn't remember Michelle telling me she had a twin, but I was a man on a mission. "That's fine, I've got no shame with you hearing this. (turn to Michelle) I think you look absolutely gorgeous and I would love to take you out some time."
The sister crossed her arms and said, "Uhh, how old are you?" In the back of my mind, I'm thinking, "Michelle's 18, why is this girl getting on my case?" I actually had to think about it for a second because it was my birthday just last week. "Uhh, I'm 26." She laughed and said, "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. My sister's 17." ??? ??????? ?? ? What the hell was going on? Suddenly the dawning reality started setting in. The hair extensions. The make-up. The attitude. The twin sister. And even the voice. I hadn't even given it two thoughts. I turned and looked at the girl sitting next to me, and she didn't look like Michelle anymore. I felt my face turn about four shades of red. I could only mutter, "...uhh, what's your name?" Anne-Marie. I'd never felt so awkward, but somehow my flight-or-flight instinct had unearthed that they were visiting the Bay Area from a small town outside of Reno called Lucas. The mom had finished getting desserts and made her away over to us by that point. I put my hands on my thighs and took my leave with, "Well, I think I've embarrassed myself enough here. I'm gonna go." The mom, hands on her hips, sternly said, "Yeah."
I just walked around the restaurant in near-hysterics with my mouth agape. I told Bernadette right away, who I had told of my scheme to ask "Michelle" out. "That..girl...was...not...Michelle." She cracked up and couldn't stop laughing. I went and told Sean, the guy who had waited on them. "Yeah, I could have told you it wasn't her. Jesus, that's hilarious."
It was just some small-town girl who fell right into the role of the cute, quiet little front desk girl with a body type and facial features to match who flirted back with me. I still can't get over some of the things I said and did to her, especially when I grabbed her hands and told her how good I thought she looked. I'm still in a slight state of shock.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
#s
2/08:
last.fm - 148,413/4,212
myspace - 81,185/2,710
message board - 53/120
facebook - 187
3/08:
lfm: 167,958/4,852
mys - 98,788/2,973
mb - 82/657
fb - 242
4/08:
lfm - 184,179/6,034
mys - 122,056/3,539
mb - 93/1087
fb - 290
5/08:
lfm - 206,426/7,276
mys - 147,647/3,796
mb - 102/1343
fb - 343
6/08:
lfm - 229,519/8,460
mys - 208,261/4,824
mb - 105/1562
fb - 384
7/08:
lfm - 257,398/9,959
mys - 304,881/8,273
mb - 129/1824
fb - 459
8/08:
lfm - 284,334/11,562
mys - 365,440/10,477
mb - 150/2231
fb - 522
9/08:
lfm - 309,817/12,933
mys - 407,362/12,958
mb - 159/2491
fb - 586
last.fm - 148,413/4,212
myspace - 81,185/2,710
message board - 53/120
facebook - 187
3/08:
lfm: 167,958/4,852
mys - 98,788/2,973
mb - 82/657
fb - 242
4/08:
lfm - 184,179/6,034
mys - 122,056/3,539
mb - 93/1087
fb - 290
5/08:
lfm - 206,426/7,276
mys - 147,647/3,796
mb - 102/1343
fb - 343
6/08:
lfm - 229,519/8,460
mys - 208,261/4,824
mb - 105/1562
fb - 384
7/08:
lfm - 257,398/9,959
mys - 304,881/8,273
mb - 129/1824
fb - 459
8/08:
lfm - 284,334/11,562
mys - 365,440/10,477
mb - 150/2231
fb - 522
9/08:
lfm - 309,817/12,933
mys - 407,362/12,958
mb - 159/2491
fb - 586
Saturday, February 2, 2008
My MM Stance on File-Sharing
Rough draft:
It's always going to be about the music. Nothing feels more gratifying than having as many ears possible embracing what we do, so we fully support any and every form of exposure that grants us more listeners.
If you enjoy our music, please support us. Whether it be by album purchase, show attendance, or merchandise sales, we appreciate it in any form. If it happens to be beyond your means, please continue to at least spread the good word. The truth is we've got high expectations set for ourselves, to the point that we're all willing to drop out of school and leave our jobs behind in order to pursue this gig as a full-time profession. In order for us to see it through, we need the full support of everyone on board.
We have faith in you, and we hope that you help us meet our goals.
There won't be an official stance.
If you enjoy our music, please support us. Whether it be by album purchase, show attendance, or merchandise sales, we appreciate it in any form. If it happens to be beyond your means, please continue to at least spread the good word. The truth is we've got high expectations set for ourselves, to the point that we're all willing to drop out of school and leave our jobs behind in order to pursue this gig as a full-time profession. In order for us to see it through, we need the full support of everyone on board.
We have faith in you, and we hope that you help us meet our goals.
There won't be an official stance.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Airborne: The $100 Million Scam
I've always had a ridiculously strong immune system, managing to get sick only once in a 15-year span. That changed when I got hit with food poisoning, strep throat twice, and pneumonia, all within a six-month period. I guess the viruses were making up for lost time. After the flurry of maladies, I was looking for answers and turned to the wisdom of my best friend, Chuck, who swore by a magical product called Airborne. I raced to the pharm that day and picked up a box. Developed by a school teacher? How quaint. $6 for 10 tablets? That must mean it works! Desperate for a solution, I removed my critical analysis cap and bit the bullet.
With the onset of a cold approaching, I began taking the tablets as directed. I still got the cold. And it lasted for longer than the three days I took the tablets. That's when the skeptic in me decided to come out of hiding. It's almost embarrassing that as a personal trainer I hadn't looked over the contents. Airborne is nothing more than a supplement. And a really freakin expensive one. All of its contents can be bought as individual supplements over-the-counter for less than a third the price. I hate feeling suckered, so I did even more research.
It turns out there's a whole mess of information on how Knight-McDowell, the makers of Airborne, has been deliberately scamming the public. The most ludicrous is the results of a clinical study that determined Airborne was effective in combating cold and flu. Well, turns out Knight-McDowell sponsored the study, and "GNG is actually a two-man operation started up just to do the Airborne study. There was no clinic, no scientists and no doctors. The man who ran things said he had lots of clinical trial experience. He added that he had a degree from Indiana University, but the school says he never graduated." After being exposed, Knight-McDowell removed the study from their website. They also had to change the packaging because it alluded to successful clinical trials.
You'll notice the wording on the label is very crafty; instructions advise you to take Airborne "at the first sign of a cold symptom, or before entering crowded environments, like airplanes and offices." Upon further review, you'll notice, in even finer print, a legal cop-out about how it doesn't claim to help or cure you in any way. That puts it on the same level as homeopathy and comparable to products like HeadOn.
Seriously, HeadOn.
In terms of its true efficacy and supplemental value, this guy does a brilliant, thorough job of deconstructing Airborne.
Now, in terms of what I can provide myself through my education and training, a primer on how to best avoid getting sick.
1. Wash your hands several times a day. Never touch your face. Most viruses enter through our mouth, nose, and eyes.
2. Sleep well and develop a consistent cycle. Restless nights and inconsistent sleep patterns wreak havoc on our immune systems.
3. Eat your fruits and veggies. Seriously. 3-5 fruits and 3-5 vegetables a day. Then you don't even need to take supplements.
4. Exercise regularly. My most candid and best piece of advice is try to have sex at least twice a day. I hate the gym as much as you do.
Knight-McDowell is making false promises and robbing the public to the tune of $100 million in profits a year. Please spread the word to your friends and help try to put a stop to this scam.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Message Board Woes
I'm trying to come up with snazzy names for our message board. Some ideas I've come up with so far:
makinlovetoacyb.org
crapyourpantssayyar.com
kinkysexfactory.com *favorite so far
theneedlesslylongestnameforamessageboard.com
christwhatanasshole.com
holycrapatalkingmuffin.com
huntingchildrenforsport.com
doyousmellwhattherockiscooking.com
....more to come.
UPDATE: Alright, we kept it simple: www.movingmountains.fm
No more pressure to have to be random/witty.
Categories:
Moving Mountains Discussion
Other Music/Bands Discussion
General Discussion
Moderator's Forum
UPDATE 2: Apparently .fm domains are a mint to register. $125? Back to the drawing board.
makinlovetoacyb.org
crapyourpantssayyar.com
kinkysexfactory.com *favorite so far
theneedlesslylongestnameforamessageboard.com
christwhatanasshole.com
holycrapatalkingmuffin.com
huntingchildrenforsport.com
doyousmellwhattherockiscooking.com
....more to come.
UPDATE: Alright, we kept it simple: www.movingmountains.fm
No more pressure to have to be random/witty.
Categories:
Moving Mountains Discussion
Other Music/Bands Discussion
General Discussion
Moderator's Forum
UPDATE 2: Apparently .fm domains are a mint to register. $125? Back to the drawing board.
Monday, January 21, 2008
10 Types of Restaurant Guests that Deserve a Giant, Collective "Fuck You!"
1. Captain Coupon
It's always a bad sign when someone orders a fountain drink and asks, "Are there free refills?" It's usually a guy out on a date, and the girl always looks embarrassed. He takes great pride in trying to manipulate the items on the menu for any loopholes and challenges me on why things are priced the way they are (thanks, Matlock, your date is really impressed). He'll proceed to eat 4/5ths of his plate and ask to have it refunded from the check because he didn't enjoy it and has lost his appetite. Then he'll pull out a coupon for a free dessert or x amount off the final bill, tipping exactly 15% on the revised amount. Out of spite I make it my mission to fuck his girlfriend.
2. Old People
It's not 1952 anymore, grandma. An average tip isn't 10% anymore. Also, please stop using coins. I really don't care about your cat or great-nephew. What I'm concerned about is that you're taking up one of my biggest, money-making booths during rush hour because you wanted to sit in the quiet corner, you both ordered waters, you're sharing one $8 salad, and it's going to take you 45 minutes to finish it. I'm young and still have plenty of stupid things to accomplish with my life. And no, I don't want to tell you about any of it. Why? Because I know you won't tip more than 10% despite whatever rapport we build. Worse, I learned early on that you grow attached to me and request to be seated in my section, only to repeat the horror of your life's minutia and shitty tips ad nauseum.
3. Verbal Tippers
As a seasoned, veteran server, nothing burns a hole in the pit of my stomach like having someone I just waited on come up to me, offer a handshake, and thank me for my excellent service. When I first began serving tables, I'd receive these pleasant gestures and gingerly make my way to pick up the checkbook, all sorts of shimmering percentages dancing in my head. Then the shot to the gut...12%?? And over and over again. Even 15%. What teacher commends you for excellent work then hands you a C? It's all about setting the expectation level; at least bad tippers who avoid eye contact when they leave have the decency not to get our hopes up.
As I see it, verbal tippers are cowards. They hide behind their words. They're fully aware of their meager pittance and try to cover it up. That, or they're just plain retarded and think we work to feel pleasant about ourselves. Sorry to break it to you, but we work to ...earn money? What a concept!
4. Collection Plate Tippers
This is another one that has everything to do with expectations. (Just as an aside, I should explain that Sundays are called Sunday, Bloody Sunday for good reason. What can go wrong, always goes wrong; it's Murphy's Law on crack.) So you bounce in to work, miss all the NFL action for the day, and welcome in all the happy little Protestant families and church groups that decide a lunch is in order after morning ceremonies. They're all dressed very well, polite as ever, and in genuinely good spirits. Everything at the table miraculously runs smoothly, congenial conversation takes place, and the smallest thing you have to worry about is how to respond to their awkward, persistent smiling. Somehow, this family's disarmed you into believing this won't be like every other Sunday. Then you pick up the check...$12 on a $120 bill? Jesus Christ! (A propos.) It's not before long you've figured out this pattern, and the conclusion to draw is simple: where's that extra $5-10 missing from the tip? Ahh yes, it got lost in the collection plate being passed around that morning. You see, they've done their duty to God for the week, so they've afforded themselves the luxury of being douchebags for the next seven days.
5. High-Maintenance Types
There's two classes of high maintenance people: those who are cognizant of their own demands on other people, and those too caught up in their own little world. The former has the potential to be polite and tactful, using such tag statements as, "I'm sorry to be such a bother," or "If it's not too much to ask." They also tend to tip in kind, meaning I never have a problem working hard for them. The self-absorbed variety are a whole other species. These are the people who make you feel like you've adopted your job title -- you're there to "serve." You bust your ass for them and they don't reward you for the extra effort. These people are also retards, the types who'll frequent Pizza Hut and ask what else in on the menu.
6. Low-Maintenance Types
A contrast to the above, nothing can give a server a bigger headache than someone who is too laid-back. You'll usually know these types because they'll ask inane questions like, "What do you guys have to drink?" with the menu closed in front of them. I'll answer that one with, "Liquids...mostly," laugh as I walk off, then go cry in a corner. They also take about 20 minutes to order. Do you want fries or mashed potatoes with that? "Hmm....uhhh ....... ....... uhh, whatever..." What I will give them, though, is that they typically tip pretty well and remain relaxed despite all the shit that can go wrong with their meal.
7. Indecisive Schmucks
The same problem as the low-maintenance type, only far more frustrating. The rest of the tables sits there empathizing with your buckling knees as Felicia Fickle seeks a 4th opinion. Before you know, you're running back and forth to the kitchen several times to amend their order. A server's best friend is looking around and saying, "I'll be right back." Learn to use it often.
8. Mr. Hook-It-Up
"Hey bro, can you hook me up with anything? I'll make it worth your while." Big surprise here...you expect this cheap ass to split the savings with you? Worse, if you don't hook him up, he'll mark it as a score against you.
9. Campers
I can totally understand vegging out after a big meal or enjoying the company of friends you haven't caught up with in years, but please be aware of how it affects the server's income. Our salaries are based almost strictly on tips earned, and our tables work as a form of real estate. The more people we can get in and out of there, the more product we can move, the more we stand to make for the night. In the two hours you just spent waxing polemics, we could have turned the table over twice and pocketed an extra $20 for the night. Some people are beautiful and leave extra money on the table for us. This "Fuck You!" goes out to those too self-absorbed to recognize their impact on others trying to earn a living at their expense.
10. Mrs. Q&A
How the hell did a five year old take the form of a grown adult? Combined with the Indecisive Schmuck and High-Maintenance Type, you're in for a real world of hurt. "Can you tell me about this chicken dish? ... Can I get spinach instead? ... Can you make it without salt? ... Is it really good? ... Ok, thank you. ... Now can you tell me about this pasta?" Meanwhile I'm looking at my other tables as they're beckoning for me, and I'm stuck in the wrath of this unholy cross-examination. I make it a point to visit these tables as infrequently as possible.
It's always a bad sign when someone orders a fountain drink and asks, "Are there free refills?" It's usually a guy out on a date, and the girl always looks embarrassed. He takes great pride in trying to manipulate the items on the menu for any loopholes and challenges me on why things are priced the way they are (thanks, Matlock, your date is really impressed). He'll proceed to eat 4/5ths of his plate and ask to have it refunded from the check because he didn't enjoy it and has lost his appetite. Then he'll pull out a coupon for a free dessert or x amount off the final bill, tipping exactly 15% on the revised amount. Out of spite I make it my mission to fuck his girlfriend.
2. Old People
It's not 1952 anymore, grandma. An average tip isn't 10% anymore. Also, please stop using coins. I really don't care about your cat or great-nephew. What I'm concerned about is that you're taking up one of my biggest, money-making booths during rush hour because you wanted to sit in the quiet corner, you both ordered waters, you're sharing one $8 salad, and it's going to take you 45 minutes to finish it. I'm young and still have plenty of stupid things to accomplish with my life. And no, I don't want to tell you about any of it. Why? Because I know you won't tip more than 10% despite whatever rapport we build. Worse, I learned early on that you grow attached to me and request to be seated in my section, only to repeat the horror of your life's minutia and shitty tips ad nauseum.
3. Verbal Tippers
As a seasoned, veteran server, nothing burns a hole in the pit of my stomach like having someone I just waited on come up to me, offer a handshake, and thank me for my excellent service. When I first began serving tables, I'd receive these pleasant gestures and gingerly make my way to pick up the checkbook, all sorts of shimmering percentages dancing in my head. Then the shot to the gut...12%?? And over and over again. Even 15%. What teacher commends you for excellent work then hands you a C? It's all about setting the expectation level; at least bad tippers who avoid eye contact when they leave have the decency not to get our hopes up.
As I see it, verbal tippers are cowards. They hide behind their words. They're fully aware of their meager pittance and try to cover it up. That, or they're just plain retarded and think we work to feel pleasant about ourselves. Sorry to break it to you, but we work to ...earn money? What a concept!
4. Collection Plate Tippers
This is another one that has everything to do with expectations. (Just as an aside, I should explain that Sundays are called Sunday, Bloody Sunday for good reason. What can go wrong, always goes wrong; it's Murphy's Law on crack.) So you bounce in to work, miss all the NFL action for the day, and welcome in all the happy little Protestant families and church groups that decide a lunch is in order after morning ceremonies. They're all dressed very well, polite as ever, and in genuinely good spirits. Everything at the table miraculously runs smoothly, congenial conversation takes place, and the smallest thing you have to worry about is how to respond to their awkward, persistent smiling. Somehow, this family's disarmed you into believing this won't be like every other Sunday. Then you pick up the check...$12 on a $120 bill? Jesus Christ! (A propos.) It's not before long you've figured out this pattern, and the conclusion to draw is simple: where's that extra $5-10 missing from the tip? Ahh yes, it got lost in the collection plate being passed around that morning. You see, they've done their duty to God for the week, so they've afforded themselves the luxury of being douchebags for the next seven days.
5. High-Maintenance Types
There's two classes of high maintenance people: those who are cognizant of their own demands on other people, and those too caught up in their own little world. The former has the potential to be polite and tactful, using such tag statements as, "I'm sorry to be such a bother," or "If it's not too much to ask." They also tend to tip in kind, meaning I never have a problem working hard for them. The self-absorbed variety are a whole other species. These are the people who make you feel like you've adopted your job title -- you're there to "serve." You bust your ass for them and they don't reward you for the extra effort. These people are also retards, the types who'll frequent Pizza Hut and ask what else in on the menu.
6. Low-Maintenance Types
A contrast to the above, nothing can give a server a bigger headache than someone who is too laid-back. You'll usually know these types because they'll ask inane questions like, "What do you guys have to drink?" with the menu closed in front of them. I'll answer that one with, "Liquids...mostly," laugh as I walk off, then go cry in a corner. They also take about 20 minutes to order. Do you want fries or mashed potatoes with that? "Hmm....uhhh ....... ....... uhh, whatever..." What I will give them, though, is that they typically tip pretty well and remain relaxed despite all the shit that can go wrong with their meal.
7. Indecisive Schmucks
The same problem as the low-maintenance type, only far more frustrating. The rest of the tables sits there empathizing with your buckling knees as Felicia Fickle seeks a 4th opinion. Before you know, you're running back and forth to the kitchen several times to amend their order. A server's best friend is looking around and saying, "I'll be right back." Learn to use it often.
8. Mr. Hook-It-Up
"Hey bro, can you hook me up with anything? I'll make it worth your while." Big surprise here...you expect this cheap ass to split the savings with you? Worse, if you don't hook him up, he'll mark it as a score against you.
9. Campers
I can totally understand vegging out after a big meal or enjoying the company of friends you haven't caught up with in years, but please be aware of how it affects the server's income. Our salaries are based almost strictly on tips earned, and our tables work as a form of real estate. The more people we can get in and out of there, the more product we can move, the more we stand to make for the night. In the two hours you just spent waxing polemics, we could have turned the table over twice and pocketed an extra $20 for the night. Some people are beautiful and leave extra money on the table for us. This "Fuck You!" goes out to those too self-absorbed to recognize their impact on others trying to earn a living at their expense.
10. Mrs. Q&A
How the hell did a five year old take the form of a grown adult? Combined with the Indecisive Schmuck and High-Maintenance Type, you're in for a real world of hurt. "Can you tell me about this chicken dish? ... Can I get spinach instead? ... Can you make it without salt? ... Is it really good? ... Ok, thank you. ... Now can you tell me about this pasta?" Meanwhile I'm looking at my other tables as they're beckoning for me, and I'm stuck in the wrath of this unholy cross-examination. I make it a point to visit these tables as infrequently as possible.
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