Last night, I had a really awesome three-top of people celebrating a birthday. It was this tall, sexy, black chick, her mom, and a thirsty dude who looked like a 1989 pop/r&b singer, who I think was the mom’s boyfriend. This was easily one of my favorite tables in the history of waiting tables.
Off the bat, it would have been easy to stereotype them:
- Black women with long nails, flashy purses, etc.
- Fucking birthday cake (means they’ll be sitting for a while).
- Dude tells me he’s a “thirsty dude”.
- Balloons, on the table, blocking my view of the woman celebrating the birthday (annoying).
- The women ordered “fancy”, non-alcoholic, strawberry daiquiris.
Turns out, these people were nice as hell, and it only took me a minute to recognize it. You see, people can do all the stereotypical, annoying shit, but get away with it, when they’re polite and “normal”. Sure, they got refill after refill. Yes, they ordered their food will all kinds of modifications. But, they smiled, weren’t loud, and were really nice to me. I was happy to reciprocate with top-notch service.
After about an hour, they were ready for the cake. Somehow, we managed to keep this cake a secret from the birthday lady. Upon delivery of the cake, I immediately received praise form the daughter and the mom’s boyfriend for the delivery and helping keep it a secret. They only took about 20 minutes to enjoy a slice before they were ready for the check. I boxed up their cake and delivered the bill. I was paid in cash, with a fresh $20 bill on top. Their total was only $47, so this tip was very legit. The only bummer about this whole experience was the fact that, again, my table with a birthday cake didn’t offer me a slice. I don’t even like cake, but I usually promise an offered piece to one of my coworkers. For this possible slice, I promised my boy Troy I’d bring it up to him (he hooks up the silverware). Troy got no cake that night.
People, if you bring in a delicious cake to a restaurant, be a nice person and offer your server a slice.