Don’t you realize that you are stealing from your server?
My heart bleeds.
I’ve waited tables in a restaurant where the management tried to pull exactly that sort of petty shit just to cut corners— like (no lie) using half the amount of espresso required for a serving. Rather than take my customer a cup of “espresso” that looked like iced tea, I made sure management wasn’t looking and made it using the proper amount. I get tipped, customer’s happy, and restaurant gets return business (instead of a pissed-off customer who’ll never come back and may bad-mouth the restaurant to others) all in exchange for a couple of extra pennies’ worth of inventory.
Being a good server is more than just plopping plates on tables. Sometimes it requires some guerilla maneuvers against your shortsighted, tightwad employers.
(I was kidding – remember this thread?)
Fortunately, he DID get rid of it! Aside from the random peices that landed on our balcony (we’re on the first floor, directly under him). We just tossed those out.
I’m just glad I don’t have maneuver around his giant car anymore. Plus, the laundry room will be much easier to navigate.
Everything’s so fucking depressing.
Please tell me that was a joke without a smiley?
It is not stealing. It might suck for the server, but it is far from stealing. Besides the server could have ensured that the glass was filled. It would be cheaper than a bad tip.
Jim
What Exit, you’re losing your mind. It must be that NJ air down there. 
It’s been more than 30 minutes since he posted he was kidding.
:smack: Oops, I missed it. I think I just saw red immediately. Thanks Anaamika.
Jim {At least I did not curse him and call him bad names, I only thought those}
The park near my house is not a leash free park. NOT a leash free park. That means you have to keep your dog on a leash. Simple, no? So when your dog comes screaming across the park to accost my dog, and you yell “It’s okay, he’s friendly!” and I reply with “My dog isn’t! So now what?” you don’t get to get pissed off at me, you crusty old hag. (My dog is actually very friendly, but he doesn’t like being charged.) Some of you fucking dog owners need to take a goddamn course or something.
People who stand in front of a perfectly good door while waiting for a line of people to exit the door directly beside it. You people are just too dumb for colour TV. Open the other fucking door! Christ, you’re standing right in front of it! Although I have to admit I get a kick out of walking ahead of 10 people and opening a door in front of some idiot. Who duly follows me into the building.
And the other group of fuckwits who use our building’s doorway as a bus shelter. Newsflash: It’s rush hour, and I have a train to catch. You’re going to get hurt if you don’t move.
Eh, I still love you. 
Dear fucktards who built our apartment building: Everything here was provided by the lowest bidder, and it really shows. I have had a cabinet door fall on me when I was putting away dishes, the stupid cheap low-flow toilet has always needed to be flushed three or four times, and last week our dishwasher, which can’t possibly be more than five years old, crapped out on us. Oh, and a hearty fuck you to the people in our apartment complex office, who keep trying to dream up new ways to keep residents from getting an actual maintenance person into their apartment to fix something. I’m so glad we’ll be moving soon.
Dear you-damn-well-know-who-you-are: There are these things called time zones. When it is 8:30am in Pittsburgh, it is fucking 5:30am in California. People do not appreciate being woken up by phone calls at 5:30am. It’s not like you even have to do any math or know what time zone California is in- there are web sites where you can look up what time it is anywhere in the world at any time.
Dear fucker who parked your new truck across two spaces in the parking lot at Office Max last night: Despair and die. I have never been so tempted to key a vehicle as I was when I saw yours, not even when my evil neighbor was stealing my parking space. I hope you rear-end a tanker truck full of raw sewage. (Oooh, the Google ad is “All About Tsunamis”. I hope you get hit by a tsunami of skunk piss.)
If I was having transmission problems I would pay to have them addressed before working on the turn signal.
I’m just sayin’.
Fuck you, United States Government. Fuck you and your acronymous way of life. The forms, oh god the dead trees. THEN you go and get all green and fancypants and create a website supposedly to cut down on the dead trees issue and you still use fucking ACRONYMS THAT MAKE NO SENSE.
Fuck you.
Cartooniverse
Dear idiot who used to work for Papa Tigs:
I realize he moved from being your (contractor) boss to being a government employee, and a new guy is now your boss. But really, when the new guy is on leave and, I assume, has left you instructions of who to call with questions, which happens to not be my husband, do you have to still call Papa Tiger in the middle of the night with a stupid pointless question, forcing me to wake him up out of a sound sleep, which is something he rarely gets right now because of his severe allergies? As far as I can tell, Papa Tiger never got back to sleep soundly again all night, but he still had to get up at 0 dark 30 and go to work. So thanks for making him extra tired just because you’re too stupid to look at the duty roster or your boss’s instructions and see who you SHOULD be calling.
Dear clients;
I understand it’s the end of the month. I understand you want to get as many loans funded as possible so your checks are bigger, truly I do understand this. However, this does not excuse your behavior. This is a little bitty office with one, count him, ONE licensed appraiser. If he’s out ten miles west of town it’s impossible for him to suddenly translocate twenty miles east of town to add in an inspection that you just suddenly decided HAD to get done right now–physically impossible, capisce?
Also, after he sees the property he still has to WRITE the appraisal–there are no happy appraisal fairies who do it for him as he’s driving back to the office. Neither are there any magical comp fairies who will come whipping out of the woodwork with fabulously high sales prices on inferior homes to your borrower’s, thereby upping the value of the subject house. Sales are what they are, we can’t make them up to suit you.
When we call you up during initial research to let you know that it’s highly unlikely that your customer’s 1500 SF house that’s surrounded by brand new 3000+ SF houses selling for $350,000 will come in valued at 450K it would be nice if you could just accept this as being part of the deal of being in the mortgage business and not get pissy with us because we can’t pull value out of our asses for you. We’re informing you ahead of time so you don’t pay our fee to get a big surprise afterward–we do this partly because we’re nice and don’t like disappointing you, but it’s also because we know if we do bring it in too low for you to make the deal you just won’t pay us and that sucks. So we eat the research time if you decide to cancel–the least you could do is just accept reality with good grace, y’think?
When I schedule an inspection I send you a courtesy email letting you know when it’s happening–you know, like the one I sent last Friday morning? The one that let you know we were seeing the house yesterday, Tuesday, remember? So what in blazing blue hell are you doing calling me up TODAY as I’m entering this report, after having been out there, after having ordered rental comps (which we have to pay for regardless of the outcome) and telling me that “oh, it wasn’t REALLY an order” (somehow the words “appraisal order” at the top of the fax must’ve thrown me off) you were just “giving us a heads up” and we should just “put it on hold” until further notice–WTF? Thanks a pantsload there, guys!
I love this business, truly I do… :smack:
Why do I feel like such total crap today? It’s like I’ve got the worst possible hangover. My head is throbbing and I feel nauseous, exactly as if I’d been up all night drinking and having a fabulous, if regrettable, time.
But I wasn’t. I went to the park and was in bed by 11. I didn’t even get to do anything regrettable.
What a rip-off.
(If anyone’s listening who can help, I’d like to bank this hangover so that the next time I do have a regrettable evening, I can use this as a credit. Thanks.)
I think it’s because you’re getting old. I stopped drinking when I started getting full-blown hangovers from two beers.
Does that help you feel better? 
No, I have always got a hangover after two beers.
Last night, I didn’t have a drop.
Oh - in that case, bad hangover-like symptoms! Bad!
Honestly.
I feel like drowning my sorrows to forget about it (since I do have a hangover in the bank) but I suspect, with my luck, it won’t work out the way I want it to. sigh
Oops. Sorry.