Waiter Rant

Waiter:  Hi guys, how are you tonight?  May I get you started with something to drink?
Mr. Rude Diner:  Gimme a club soda with a lime, and *waves his hand at his wife* what do you want?
Mrs. Rude Diner:  Oh for God's sake,  Jim, I don't know!
Waiter:  M'am, if you need a minute to look over the drinks, I'm more than happy to come back.
Mr. RD:   No.  We're ready.
Mrs. RD:  Well, uhhhh, do you have caffeine free Diet Coke?
Waiter:  I'm afraid not.
Mrs. RD:  Do you have decaff coffee?
Waiter:  Sorry m'am, we only have caffeinated coffee.
Mrs. RD:   Really?!  Hmm... well, how's your iced tea?  Is it sweet tea?
Waiter:  Nope, it's unsweetened, m'am.
Mrs. RD:  Is it flavored?
Waiter:  No, we just have plain, unsweetened tea.  *Now I'm noticing another table needs refills on their Diet Cokes, a different tables' food is up, and I have just been double sat*
Mrs. RD:  Oh.  Well yuck.  Uhmmm...
Mr. RD:  Jesus, just pick something.  They have lemonade?
Waiter:  Yes.  The list of drinks is right here-
Mrs. RD:  Is it fresh squeezed?
Waiter:  No, m'am, it's Minute Maid.
Mrs. RD:  Oh, well I don't want that then... hmmm....
Mr. RD:  Ok, well I want a roast beef club sandwich.  Only no lettuce, no tomato, no onion, and gimme an order of those onion rings too.
Waiter:   Sure, sir. *But I'm staring at the man frantically waving trying to get my attention to bring him his check, another man shooting me dagger-eyes because his Diet Coke is still empty, and one of the tables that has been sat because they are shaking their heads and looking around for the waiter they now assume to be lazy and incompetent*
Mrs. RD:  How about diet cream soda?  Do you have diet cream soda?
Waiter:  I'm sorry, we don't m'am.
Mrs. RD:  OK.  What kinds of soda do you have?
Mr. RD:  Actually, can we get a spinach and artichoke dip to start?
Waiter:  Ok, sir.  And we have Coke product m'am.
Mrs. RD:  So that means...?
Mr. RD:  But we don't want any of that pico del gallo  *pronounced as it's spelled*
Waiter: Sure.  Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Fanta Orange, Pibb, and Gingerale.
Mrs. RD:  Oh... Coke Zero?
Waiter: No m'am.  *one of my co-workers is dealing with the man who wanted his check and another is greeting the tables that have just been sat, pointing at me and smiling.  Diet Coke Punk is still glowering*
Mr. RD:  Girl, does my sandwich have mayo on it?
Waiter:  Yup, it does.
Mr. RD:  Yeah, none of that, but add some honey mustard.  And a side of hot peppers.
Waiter:  Ok sir.
Mrs. RD:  Ok.  I'll just have water.  But no ice, and honey, can I get an orange slice on it?
Waiter:  M'am, I'm afraid we only have lemons and limes. *Did that bitch just call me "honey"?!*
Mrs. RD:  Oh.  Ok.  Two slices of lime and three slices of lemon.  But no ice, did you hear me?  No. Ice.
Waiter:  Yes.  Ok.
Mr. RD:  What do you want to eat?
Mrs. RD:  Oh.  I don't know.
Waiter:  I'll give you a minute m'am.  I'll be right back with your drinks *and that fucker's Diet Coke*
Mrs. RD:  No, no.  I'll find what I want.
Mr. RD:  Are your hot peppers really hot?
Waiter:  Uhm.  I find them spicy, yes sir.
Mr. RD:  How spicy?
Waiter:  *losing patience*  an 8.  Sir.
Mr. RD:  Huh... ok.  No hot peppers, banana peppers on the side.
Waiter:  We don't have banana peppers.
Mrs. RD:  Ok ok, I want a crabmeat pizza.  But instead of a white pizza, I want tomato sauce on it.
Mr. RD:  You don't have banana peppers!?  Uh.  Oh.  Kay.  I'll have four jalepenos.  In a cup, no where near my plate.
Waiter:  Ok.
Mr. RD:  And I need a Diet Coke.  Did my wife order?
Waiter:  Yes, she did.
Mrs. RD:  Oh, honey, you don't like peppers.
Mr. RD:  Yes, I do.
Mrs. RD:  No, you always pick them off, remember?
Mr. RD:  Those are bell peppers, they're disgusting.  I like jalepenos.
Mrs. RD:  Oh.  I just thought you meant all peppers. Wait.  A garden salad... is that good?
Waiter:  As far as plain vegetables go.
Mrs. RD:  Oh... let's get one of those.  And I want no onions.  I'm allergic to onions.
Waiter:  Ok.  *There is no known allergy to onions and it is the basis of Western cooking.*
Mrs. RD:  And I want honey mustard, bleu cheese, and ranch dressings.  All on the side.
Waiter:  Ok.

These people will send me back to the kitchen at least three times for extra sides of lard-based condiments, sit and camp at my table with their $30 check for two more hours, and leave me a $4.50 tip.