Last night I ate at Outback Steakhouse.  As always my food was pretty tasty; however, the service I received was just annoying. Having previously been a server myself for over six years, I often empathize with my server and tip well over 20 percent at each restaurant. Normally, it would take A LOT for me to complain or not tip well. I always give the benefit of the doubt whether I get served the wrong meal, my soda refills go unfilled, the server takes an extra long smoke break and only checks back to hand me the bill, or if I should find a large chunk of glass in my chef salad (true story). However, my Outback server, Dan was the definition of why some people tip bad.

Here is a break down of all the things Dan did while serving me at Outback and all the reasons why Dan needs to be fired or doomed to a career as a food runner.

1. Instead of standing by our table to take our order like a normal server would, Dan made sure to sit down right next to me in the booth. He then glanced over at my boyfriend and and asked me, “Is he going to get mad that I’m sitting so close to you?” He laughed as if it were funny – it wasn’t. I wanted to tell Dan, “No, he won’t get mad, but I might kick you in your man-zone for touching my thigh with your thigh and having breath that reeks of anus.”

2. When my boyfriend and I ordered two sodas, Dan ignored us and instead listed all of Outback’s beer choices.  No thanks Danny-boy, but you can’t talk me into buying what you refer to as a “delicious import” beer like Fosters. I’d rather drink Red Dog with a curdled milk chaser.

3. When he delivered our sodas to the table he stated “Here’s your two exciting sodas.” Seriously Dan, this isn’t Showtime at the Apollo. If it were, we would have gotten the broom out and boo’d your ass off the stage at first glance. Save the jokes for the funny people and bring me my damn dinner salad.

4. Once Dan delivered our food, he decided to sit down next to me again. His breath smelled worse now as if he had just chewed an entire pack of Orbitz’s new anus and vomit flavored gum. As I was about to take the first bite of my $12.99 Outback Special sirloin, Dan started asking my boyfriend and I what we did for a living. Once we both answered, he immediately started telling us about his “real job.” He made sure to remind us another 29 times during our meal serving at Outback was only a temporary thing until his “property management” business took off. He then pulled out a business flyer and handed one to each of us. Apparently Dan has left all of his business cards at home. Um, yeah, right. I imagine that his business cards consist of  loose leaf pieces paper that he wrote his name, telephone number and “property manager” title on when he was high last night. He keep going on and on about ideas for his business. I was finishing the last bite of my sirloin before he said, “I’m sorry, I have to check on another table. I’ll be right back to finish my story.” It was at that moment that I was convinced I must have done something so vile in a previous life that the karma police thought it only fair to bring Dan into my life.

5. When Dan returned to our table, he again sat next to me, breath-stank and all, and continued on about his business. He then asked my boyfriend for his number so that they could “maybe grab some drinks sometime” and he could “bounce some ideas off of him.” No Dan. That’s definitely not what you do as a server at a steakhouse. This isn’t some networking seminar downtown. And we’re not a bunch of overzealous douchers who pay $100 for a dry Waldorf salad and the chance to network with other douchers who aspire to make it out from taking orders in the Wendy’s drive thrus windown one day.

Morale of this story:

Dan needs to be punished. For Dan’s most heinous server crimes, I suggest that he be sentenced to a life of server purgatory at Denny’s.  Where he will serve people who will not hesitate to tell him to “Shut up” and tip him in pennies that reek of tobacco.

(You don’t have to lie! You know you don’t order the veggies at Outback. Garlic mashed potatoes all the way!)

I like to call this clip “Where stereotypes are born…”*

*I almost didn’t post this because my sense of white liberal guilt acted up and I didn’t want to seem like I was perpetuating racial stereotypes. But then I figured that if I vote for Obama it will all even out.

I know pb was all about this post, and he probably would have been funnier (after all, he is rumored to have once washed dishes at the Improv Olympic), but I got to it first, so fuck him and his witty blog stylings.

The menus at a McFunsters are not exactly gastronomically challenging. We don’t have Stephanie from Top Chef back there in the kitchen whipping up plates of pork shoulder with an apple slaw. We have Romelio, the dude from Ecuador, plating up your chicken nachos. But Romelio can cook, and by God, you put a steak in front of him and he will have it grilled up to perfection.

Unfortunately, you insist on turning a fairly noble piece of meat in to an inedible, charred black disk that looks like Bea Arthur’s vagina. Just trust me on this, I don’t want to go into how I know, but thats not hyperbole.

When you get steak well done, you ruin it. Not to mention that since you have burned out any flavor and dried it out so its leathery and inedible (once again, think Bea Arthur), you are probably going to get stuck with an old steak, one from the back of the walk in that no one else wanted. Plus you look like an asshole in front of all your friends and family. Its an all around bad situation.

So next time, be adventurous. Order it medium. Trust me, it will be better. You won’t even need to drown it in A1 sauce.

(The following took place at the computer while closing a table’s bill)

Me: (Elated) Hey, (Name Redacted), check it out! I just had a table of tourists from Italy and the guy tipped me a 20 Euro note on a $90 bill. That was pretty cool of them.

Waitress: (Confused) Did he stiff you?

Me: No, he gave me cash. This is what they spend in Europe.

Waitress: So, you have to go to Europe to spend it?

Me: No, you can convert it to American money. The dollar is crazy weak right now, so this is worth way more than twenty bucks. (Ed. Note: $31.42 as of date of the post. This makes it a 35% tip)

Waitress: How can that be? It says “20″ on it…

Me: No, (giving up) it’s just… nevermind. Does the pop machine need ice yet?