Recently, Massachusetts legislation has required that all restaurants conspicuously post allergy awareness information for all employees to see. Similarly, it has been recommended to Guests ( which has increasingly become euphemious for "asshole customers") that they inform their server of any and all allergies before ordering their meal.
Most prevalent are the nut, shellfish, gluten, and dairy allergies. Both nut and shellfish allergies can result in death. Clearly, this is serious business that, at times, can be extremely daunting. I understand the severity of food allergies and how important it is to address them in a safe, secure way. I also think they're a complete pain in the ass.
Why?
Because nothing screams waiter-kryptonite more than an asshole customer that brings your entire cadence to a grinding halt, by sending you on a manic goose-hunt to retrieve all the ingredients in the Lobster Savannah. Now, I could easily say to these bastards: 'Why don't you pricks just stay home?', but that view would be too myopic. It's not their fault they've been stricken by certain food aversions (a curse I count my lucky stars not to share). I mean, they deserve to enjoy the same luxuries of the restaurant milieu just as much as the next guy.
However, human stupidity NEVER fails to amaze me. Just as it is required for customers to inform their servers of a food allergy, it should also be required that, in so doing, a certain de rigueur should be followed. Take the stupidity of this asshole, for instance:
I work in a fine dining, seafood restaurant. A married couple is seated at a table. Approaching the table, I have a thinly veiled guise of politeness as my disposition (sadly, the service industry is prostitution in its purest form: Selling yourself before, royally, getting fucked. However, that's another blog for another time). Before I can even begin my opening, waiterly gambit, the DBAG, with an austere look on his ugly face, admonishes me of a "fatal, seafood allergy." As he so glibly informs me, he simultaneously slams his fat fist on the table and I notice an EPI pen within his clutches.
A brief pause. Silence ensues as I, dubiously, look this maniac square in the eyes. My first instinct is to laugh hysterically. I mean, are you fucking serious? Yes, dead serious! My next instinct is to punch him square in the jaw. I've never been so misanthropic in my life. My parents should be ashamed of what I've become.
He proceeds to order a filet mignon under the harshest instructions for preparation. "It can't be near ANY seafood. It has to be cooked in a separate oven. It has to be this, it has to be that!" How about this? How about you take your fat, miserable ass to a fucking STEAKHOUSE?!??! How does that sound? I mean the audacity on this guy is completely unparalleled to any other I've ever engaged before. At this point I am praying for anaphylaxis only to have a judge dismiss the plaintiff's attempted murder charge on the grounds of human stupidity. I mean, that's like smoking cigarettes your whole life and then suing the tobacco companies after being diagnosed with cancer. Go walk around the 93 Expressway and then sue the poor bastard that runs you over.
With that being said, it should be required that servers inform their customers when they're complete morons.
So, for today's lucrative tip: If you have a seafood allergy, or any allergy for that matter, stay the fuck away from a menu (or menu item) in which deals, predominantly, with that allergy. Your tip is not worth the emotional stress that comes with having to precariously deal with life or death situations. Seriously, if I wanted to save lives I would have become a fucking medic. Thanks!
