We need to talk.

I'm all for partying and being inebriated--that much should be obvious. What I do NOT support is wandering into public places in an intoxicated state and proceeding to be a total nuisance to anyone within a fifty-foot radius. Even worse are those of you who wander into restaurants and are complete assholes, then leave a one-dollar tip in the middle of the table which you've covered in cheese, water, ashes, and various bits of torn paper. Yeah. You.

So what stimulated this little chat? you ask. I'll tell you. My job at home is that of a waitress (politically correct term: server) in a twenty-four-hour diner. For fear of being sued (this is America) I shall not name the restaurant, but know that it is of the variety that makes you feel greasy just because you walked in the door.

Anyway, I worked Friday and Saturday, third shift. Now don't get me wrong; I worked third shift all summer, and I know what to expect on a weekend. But let me tell you about three choice tables. Then, when you're done reading, please reevaluate your behavior when terrorizing the public in a drunken stupor.

1. Table of five. Obnoxious. Drunk. Loud. Bitchy. They're waiting on food and they spill a full glass of Mr. Pibb. No problem. I get it cleaned up. I jokingly ask the guy, "Do I need to bring you a plastic cup with a lid, or are you okay to try again?" So I bring him a new Mr. Pibb. Five minutes pass. I hear glass break. What did they do? You guessed it. They spilled the Mr. Pibb, only this time they broke the glass for good measure. So I had to convince them not to try to help me because they're a liability if they cut themselves, and I got it taken care of. He didn't get another drink. Here's the lesson though: this table left me nine dollars and our dear Mr. Pibb drinker handed me ten. If you're going to be drunken idiots, tip well.
2. Table of five that suddenly becomes a table of four and a table of three, with one girl who can't decide where she wants to sit and keeps switching tables. Loud. Demanding. Obnoxious. Very very drunk. These people were in Friday night and another server took care of them, so it was only fair that I waited on them Saturday night. Big mistake. Within a two-minute span, one male asked for water at least seven times, and began reaching his hand over the half-wall into the service station, proclaiming he needed water. I brought their drinks. Then he ordered a cheeseburger, and within the next ten minutes, he asked at least five times whether he could just pay extra money to have his cheeseburger right then. People: when the restaurant is full of drunks and the drive-thru is busy, do not think that you will have your food in five or ten minutes. In dealing with the table that somehow spawned itself from the original table of five, I had to take three different drink orders because the bitches couldn't make up their minds and ordered coffee, only to forget they ordered coffee and demand water, only to then decide that they needed another cup of coffee and creamer. The best part: all the while, one of the girls kept telling me, "Don't worry; I tip really well." One day as a server and you will know that that means they never leave more than three dollars, usually less. What did she leave? Nothing. Do NOT be that girl.
3. Table of two. Old. Drunk. Friendly. Too friendly. I take their orders and bring out drinks only to have one of the men look up at me through bloodshot eyes with heavy lids, and tell me, "I like to watch you work." My response was, "That's just a little creepy." I set down the drinks and left. And I quickly discovered that no matter where I was in the restaurant or what I was doing, if I looked up, he was watching me. Please please please people. Don't ask me if I come on a plate with whipped cream and strawberries (yes, an old man has done this--in front of my manager, no less) and don't watch me while I bus tables.

Be courteous, people. Please.