Last night seemed to be a night for the crazy folk to come out and play. I'm not quite sure why, it wasn't a Sunday or a full moon (always weird) but there was a distinctly odd feeling about everyone. On top of that, the staff were in full on strange mode and the streetlights were out for about an hour. On the whole, though, people were lovely, except for one crazy bitch who makes up my story.
She was there almost all night at a table with several of my favourite regulars and they were in my section. I was at the table a fair bit; these are regulars who spend money and appreciate being well-looked after. Anyway, even early on there was something weird about this one woman, let's just call her Crazy. Well Crazy had a mean case of the crazy-eyes and she was one of those women who refuse to acknowledge waitstaff. That pisses me off to begin with, but the guy she was there with was nice enough to make up for it. They were drinking Dog Point Sauvignon Blanc (from 2010, fruity, from Marlborough) by the bottle, so didn't require a whole lot of checking up on but I was walking around and stopping in with them every so often after the regulars left. It was on one of these general "Can I get you another drink/something to eat/more water/clear anything finished?" stop ins where the woman looked up at me and shouted "Go away! Just go away!" to me whilst flicking her hand dismissively. This is when my bitch came out. "Fuck it," I figured, "may as well give her what she wants." So I did. I kept joking with and serving every other table in my six table section but them. They could pour their own damn wine. Roughly ten minutes later, Crazy starts crying, while sitting at her table. I hate women who do this, it makes me and everyone who notices it uncomfortable. Crazy went to the bathroom where the other waitress (Mary-Jane) overheard her wailing about how the waitresses were so young and "he" (presumably the thoroughly middle aged man she was with) was "looking at them".
Well this answered some questions, namely why my presence anywhere near their table seemed to so upset her. But I kept doing my thing, until I went to start closing so Mary-Jane was on the floor. Well she knew what had happened but only sort of and Crazy's water glass had been empty for nearly twenty minutes. So Mary-Jane went over to fill it up and the same thing happened. She came into the kitchen to tell me, wondering if she'd done something wrong. Now this pissed me off more than when Crazy first pulled that shit. Mary-Jane is far newer to the game than I am and therefore not yet jaded. She's also lovely, friendly and genuinely cares about her customers. For this hag of a woman to make her think she was the one at fault made me livid. But there was nothing I could really tell Mary-Jane, other than to punch Crazy in her dried-up ovaries. So I let the manager and the bouncer know that she was drunk and told Mary-Jane to do what I'd done and simply not serve them.
Later, when we (Cookie, The Boy and I) had finished staffies and were walking home we saw something beautiful. Crazy and her man thing arguing in a doorway just down from my bar. I heard man thing say "I'd like you more if you weren't such a bitch" and "Just knock! You're not staying with me so you can either knock or sleep on the street." The police were on their way over as we walked past. Karma is sweeter than revenge.
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