My Dogs are Barking...Literally as Well

What a day! I sit here typing having just walked in the door from work...my two dogs are staring through the window at me barking and my feet are absolutely throbbing.

We opened our doors at work to the masses at 10:30 AM and the bombs started dropping. My once starch white work shirt certainly supports the "bomb" theory, I've never seen it so dirty and stained.

What kills me is my first table I greeted with "Happy Mother's Day" to the wife was answered with " happy one to you too, if you are a mother". I told them I was and started my routine. Her husband had as much personality as the black bench they sat on. Fed them and gave great service...even followed them out to their car because she had left her to go box. Went back to the table and picked up their credit card slip... a $5.00 tip on a $60 tab and they had a $40 gift card they used. This is the way the day started.

More bombs began to drop. The kitchen struggled, we ALL struggled and the masses turned into an angry mob at best.

Lunch was a blur, the smoke didn't clear before the dinner hour hit. Straight through the battlefield I plowed...bad tip after bad tip...they almost felt like land mines to me, blowing up in my face when I looked at the amount that had been left. I realize that I am a server and usually over tip, but to leave a crappy tip to a "MOTHER" on Mother's Day just seems like a slap in the face ...what's next, "Water boarding" the waitress?

I kept a smile on my face and kept telling myself it would be alright and sometimes it was...some people were great, understanding that the kitchen was under tremendous pressure and overloaded and I have no control over how quickly (or not) their food gets to the table. I had some really nice guests that ALWAYS make up for the "insurgents" that slip in to try to bring me down...mentally and financially.

Then the whole thing fell apart. There was a point when I couldn't tell if 30 minutes or 30 days had gone by since a table ordered. It was like I was in a time warp. I tried to placate people, tried to apologize...some were totally understanding and some were just big babies about it. To sling down your fork in disgust because your steak is one temperature undercooked during the mad rush of Mother's Day...when your waitress is indeed herself a mother who spent no part of this day with her own family seems a little over dramatic to me. I felt like slinging my order pad on the table and shouting "You know you are right! How can I, as a mother let us totally ruin your special day with serving you a medium rare steak when you specifically requested medium steak? Here I slap down this steak in front of you as if it is okay...if there was ONLY some way to perhaps put it back on the grill or bring it up to your desired temperature I may be able to live with myself for one more day, instead we will cook the steak more for you, knock off 50% of your bill and once you leave me a crappy tip...we will be even..how's that sound to you"?

I know that the stress in my own life doesn't help, but neither does the stress that the public heaps on me like an unwanted incoming bomb. They need to think about the grand scheme of things before they launch their attack, think about how much of it is actually MY fault and realize that I have just spent another Mother's Day away from my kids, husband and family...who are in desperate need themselves.

I believe in karma...what goes around comes around.

I worked on my "special" holiday because it was what my own family needed... as for their petty gripes...you get what you give folks!