The Wrong Kind of Role Model

Following is the first submission from a fellow Goon. He works as a waiter/bartender in an upscale dining institution, and yes, he gets to deal with all kinds of stupidity and assholiness as well. I leave out names of people and places as a precaution, because one of the bases of this Blog is that these people are everywhere, and instances like this could happen anywhere, to anyone. His tale is one that has a moral base to it as well as some Tsk Tsk’s that will surely be iterated by you readers, as I very much WTFed as he told me the story.

Kids, even though I am pretty sure no children read this blog, or should… ;) Do not always follow your parent’s example. Just because they birthed you, does not make them God or the Holy Roman Emperor of Role Models. This is very much an example of the WRONG kind of parental role model to be. If you act like this jackass in any public outing, not only are you proving you are a jackhole to your family, but the general populace gets to shake their heads at you too… *tsk tsk*

Here is my friend’s tale of the Wrong Kind of Role Model:

The dining institution my friend slaves away in for an honest buck is the kind of place that closes down early during the week. Yup, he gets the pleasure of the white penguin suit, the cloth table coverings, extensive wine menu, full table presentation, all that jazz. It’s not quite fine dining, but it ain’t no Chili’s neither… That being said, if a table walks in at 8:55 and you close at 9pm, yup, you will be there for the duration of their meal, waiting on those ignorant fucks. All you wanna do is get to the Pub for a drink and a simmer down shot, only to be delayed for at least an hour. Such is the case for this particular story.

The guests did call right before coming in to make sure there would be a place for them to dine, and of course the calltaker must oblige. The Goon gets a little bummed, but hopeful that in at least a party of five the tab will be decent, maybe some wine and drinks, and the tip should be according as well.

A family of 5 comes in to the restaurant right before closing and says they are the people who called. Two adults, three kids.

PpffffttFuuuuuck. *sound of monetary profit going right out the window*

Goon, sighs, but must oblige, and prepares the spiel, “Hey, how are you guys, welcome to *nameofestablishmentommitted* What can I get y’all started on for drinks?” *yadda yadda.. We all know that robotic motion*

So, the family sits down, orders drinks, and the Dad asks the Goon, “Hey, what’s good on the menu?”

Now, the menu is pretty extensive with all kinds of variety of goodness to choose from, so of course the Goon replies, “It really depends on what you want. We have chicken, seafood, pasta, etc. It really relies on what you have a desire for. We do have quite a variety.”
Guest: “Well, what do you like?”
Goon: “Honestly, I have worked here for *X number of years* and there is only so much on the menu that I eat. You know, when you have the same stuff available for so long… *laughs* But, really, everything on the menu is quite good. It just depends on what you have a craving for.”

They go back and forth a bit on what the guests should order, and finally decide on dinner for everyone. Things seem to be going well when after the family is partway through the meal, the Goon comes to check on them. “Hey guys, how is everything working out this evening?”
Guest: “Everything is great, thanks man. Hey, what time do you guys close?” (Guest has noticed that chairs are upside down on top of tables and the carpet cleaning crew previously scheduled for that night were hanging out over by the entrance.)

Goon: “Well, actually we close at 9 (it was now 9:45), but don’t feel you have to rush or anything. Take your time and enjoy your meal. (Says with sincerity. *applause* He wouldn’t be able to get away with being a snarky bitch at work like me… So he must be nice, as is common with those types of Slavery establishments.)

The father starts getting in a huff, profusely apologizing that he and his family are keeping him there past close, and begins to bark at his family to “Hurry up! Finish your dinner! The place is closed! I’m so sorry man, I work in the industry as well, and I know how much this sucks having to wait on people past closing… FUCK I said EAT YOUR DINNER! THEY’RE CLOSED!”
Goon, quite stunned and trying to smooth situation: “No, it’s really no problem. This kind of thing happens all the time. It’s really no reason to rush. Take your time, and enjoy the rest of your meal. Would you like to see a dessert menu? We have several things that are quite delicious…” *double applause*
FatherDick: “No, no. No dessert. Just bring ToGo boxes and the check. I’m so sorry man. I’m a manager at a high end country club, and this sucks. Just bring us boxes. Kids, eat your dinner!” (kids have been playing on their iPads the whole time not really paying attention to the scene their douchedick of a Dad is causing…)
Goon, again trying to smooth things over: “Oh really? Which country club do you work at?” *trying to nonchalantly calm Dickhead down*
Dick: “I can’t tell you that… Just bring us boxes and the check.” *continues to yell at family to hurry*
Goon: Well, technically I can’t bring you boxes. We are supposed to box any ToGo food for you, as a courtesy. It’s our policy.”
Dick: “None of that. We don’t care. Just bring the boxes and sit them on the table next to us. If we use ‘em, we use ‘em. Then you don’t get in trouble.” *continues to bark at family even more*

My fellow Goon does what the Douchedick says and brings boxes and sets them on the table next to where they are sitting. The whole time, he is utterly abashed at how the Dad is treating his family. By “hurrying” them along, it is actually having the opposite effect as his yelling and screaming is taking more time than the family normally would have taken to finish their meals in peace. By this point, the Goon is just ready to be rid of the asshole as he is feeling sorry for the wife and very aloof children.

The time comes around for the check to be taken care of and as he comes to present the tab, Dick gets in a huff because his wife is trying to pay:
“No, what are you doing? Don’t pay the tab! We agreed I would pay…” *bark bark assholiness*
The wife apologizes to the Goon, says it’s fine and to please take her card. She is attempting to shush her husband still when the Goon, after conflictingly being reassured by her it is okay to run her card, walks away to do so. He can still hear them at the table as he is at his terminal, “What are you doing paying for this? It’s your Birthday!” *bark bark assholiness* The Goon returns with the tab and thanks the family for coming in, and offers the complimentary birthday dessert for the wife, as he has overheard the special occasion. The Dick gets huffy yet again and says, “No! We don’t want it. We have kept you here far too long. Kids, get your stuff! Let’s go! I’m so sorry about all of this man. You were so great letting us stay and have dinner. *yadda yadda ‘Sorry’ yadda ‘I’m a giant asshole’ yadda*

The Goon waves goodbye to them, thanks them for coming in yet again, and wishes them a good evening as they are walking out the door. Regardless of the drama, the tip was decent for the tab. Thankfully, I wonder, that the wife paid rather than the Dick. Something tells me she’s the money maker in that little clan…

I wish I could say that was the end of the story, but oh no. It’s gets worse…

After the family leaves, and the carpet cleaning crew has come in to do their thing, the kids get in the car and the parents sit down on the bench outside the restaurant to have some ‘quiet time.’ They remain there until the Goon is done with his side work and is leaving the building himself when he notices the parents sitting outside talking. He waves, they nod, and he gets in his car to head to the Pub for a very much needed drink. As he is about to drive off, he notices one of the kids get out of the car (yes, the tykes were waiting on the parents the whole time, it’s been like another 30-45 minutes they have been waiting in the car) and asks how much longer until they get to go home. The Dad gets in a Superhuff and starts screaming at his kid, “Get back in the Damn car! Can’t your mother and I have a few Goddamn minutes to ourselves? It’s her Fucking Birthday!!… *rantassholerant*”

WTF???

Who said this asshole could father children? I mean JESUS! What a DICK!

My Goon friend very soon after hits the Pub, and proceeds to relay the story to me. Of course, I have to post it… I mean, Fuck!

The point of the story more lies in moral grounding than humor. Some people just should not be parents. They are an embarrassment to themselves, and Holy Fuck, what kind of assholes are those poor kids going to grow up to be? First of all, all of them had iPads, cellphones, and such that they were playing with the Entire time at dinner. I am sorry, but playing with your Gorram phone or whatever when your family is supposed to be enjoying a nice meal together warrants a FlipFlop to the face! Bad fucking manners, mate! Well, I guess I can’t expect much since their Dad was a complete Dick. AAAND, these kids were out past 11pm on a fucking schoolnight. Jesus man, if it’s your wife’s Bday, get a fucking babysitter! Ass!

Worst. Role. Model. Ever.

Lollie’s Role Model Advice:
Do not be a Dick.
And especially…
Do Not be a Dick in Public.
Period.

Then maybe your kids won’t grow up to be Dicks just like you.

So, the next time you decide to take your family out to dinner, remember, Be a Good Role Model…
Please, for the sanity of those who have to put up with your dumbass, and especially, for the Children.