Ladies and gentlemen, I give you THE most annoying thing in the world.
Here’s a tip: Don’t ask me for bread. Ever.
Especially if you’re one of those idiots who asks, “Aren’t you going to bring me bread?” Well, I was going to…but now we’re “out of bread” until a “fresh batch comes out of the oven.” That means you aren’t getting shit for about ten minutes, just because you pissed me off.
Your bread comes out with your goddamn salads. I might be nice and bring it with soup, which comes out before the salads unless otherwise requested. But if you ask me during or right after I finish taking your order, fuck you. After I take your order, I’m going straight to the kitchen to get your salads and fucking bread! Had you not asked, you’d have gotten it immediately. Since you asked, you’re going to fucking wait.
And if you EVER ask for bread before I’ve even gotten your drink order, you can bet your ass that the first time you’ll get bread is halfway through your entrée. Of course, tables with small children are exempt as long as they ask politely. I want to shut your crotch spawn up too, so we share a common goal.
If your bread basket is empty, I’ve noticed. There is no need to wave me down just to tell me. Sit there and fucking wait until I can bring you a new one. I automatically bring more bread until the entrées hit the table. After that, I ask every time it’s empty before bringing more. I’m not trying to rob you of your free shit. Heaven forbid. I’ll even bag you up some bread to-go. I love doing that because it makes me happy to know the bread will taste like shit once you get home; they are ONLY good fresh. Enjoy your stale bread, assholes!
I guess the reason this annoys me is because I work here. You don’t. I know when I’m supposed to bring the fucking bread. You obviously don’t. This isn’t a Mexican food restaurant where you get chips and salsa before the drinks, forcing you to suffer through minutes of agonizing pain once you realize the salsa is not mild. No, we’re classier than that. We’d like you to have a beverage on the table and an order in the kitchen before stuffing you full of biscuits (which are 150 calories each, by the way). So shut the fuck up and wait. Christ.