Revenged! - You must seek revenge! - Funny Revenges!

The Mint
Once I had this table whose after-dinner mints I violated. It was during the busy season. Late in the year. Somewhere around the holidays. I was on my third double-shift in a row. It was the dinner shift and I was in the window section. Everybody wants to sit in the window section. Watch the people walking by. Look at all the fancy cars. Photosynthesize. Whatever. Most of the people had reservations, and my section was full all evening. As soon as a table would leave, it would be cleared, set up and reset. Now whenever I was in a full section situation, I would try to divide myself evenly amongst the tables. No special time for any one table. I couldn't afford it. The one table might be happy and tip me, but the other four would cut me to shreds. (Not literally.) But sometimes the rules must be broken. As was the case this evening.

Table number forty-three was set with a young, non-descript oriental family. That is to say I knew they were oriental, but of which branch of the oriental tree they were plucked I did not know. They spoke little to no English and so I was forced to spend extra time trying to figure out their order. "Robster, robster . . ." the father kept saying. "Would you like a pound and a half or a pound and a quarter?" I'd ask. "Robster, robster," he would say. This went on for some time, but I think I eventually got their order. So I brought lobster for everyone. I can't remember what they weighed. The lobsters not the people: Mom, dad and the two small children.

Around the same time forty-three was sat, table forty-five was sat with a heavy-set, middle-aged white couple dressed in their ill-fitting Sunday best. They each had a mixed drink, then they ordered appetizers and then their entrees. Fairly typical ordering procedure. Nothing upsetting or out of the ordinary about that, but just wait till you hear what they did.

When they finished their mixed drinks they each had iced tea. That's right - iced tea. I brought their appetizers and cleared the mixed drink glasses. They said thanks. Just like that. They seemed to be OK so I left them to tend to the other tables. The kitchen was rolling, and I soon had out the entrees which I placed before them and removed their appetizer plates. "May I bring you anything else?" I asked. They said no, and I was off. A brief while later the busboy, (also named Tony), came over to where I was standing to tell me that the heavyset couple was not going to tip me. It seems they felt that I was ignoring them because (and get this) the busboy had to refill their iced tea and water glasses two times. "Is that what they said?" I asked, and he says "Well when I was refillin' their iced tea the second time the man asks 'Shouldn't our waiter be doing that?' and I tell him 'When I'm busy he helps me out, and when he's busy I help him out.'" So they say that I don't look busy to them and they want to make sure the busboy gets a tip and I don't. Those common petty bastards.

Then I think to myself - what am I going to do. I've been working my tail off for the last three days, and now Mr. and Mrs. Fat Ass American don't think I should be tipped because the busboy has decided to do his job and refill the iced tea and water glasses. So I tell the manager, "Peggy I think you should go talk to these customers because they're not going to tip me and I really haven't done anything wrong." She goes to the table and asks, "Was there something wrong with the service?" "The waiter's been ignoring us all night," they say. "Did your drinks get here on time and OK?" "Yes the drinks were fine." "Did the food take too long?" "No, no it didn't." "Was it cooked to your specifications?" "Yes. It was very good food." "So what was the problem?" Peggy asks somewhat bewildered. "Well the busboy had to do most of his work," said the fella. "Yes he filled our iced tea and water glasses twice," added his spouse. "Well that is part of the busboy's job." "Maybe so, but we still think the waiter could have paid us a little more attention."

That settles it. They just were not going to tip me after I'd given them decent service and then they were foolish enough to let me find out about it before they left or maybe they thought that Tony wouldn't tell me. Maybe they thought that the promise of a nice waiter sized tip would be tantamount to hush money and he'd keep his filthy secret far, far from the likes of me. Well maybe they thought all that and more but I will tell you right here and now they were wrong because he did tell me and I did know. Something must be done, I thought...

I go over to the table and begin clearing their diner plates. "Did either of you care for coffee or desert?" I ask, and the guy - he's not even looking at me. He's got his arms up across the table and he's holding his wife's hands and they are looking into each other's eyes and he says boldly , "No we needed you around ten minutes ago." That's when I realized that he had not wanted me around to fill his iced tea and water glasses as he claimed but he instead had wanted me around that evening so that he could bounce his witty banter off of me and amuse and impress his wife. At least that is what I surmised given the evidence that I was presented with. I'd seen that type all too often.

He was the big mouth funny guy type who just likes to have a few laughs off the waiter whose younger and more attractive than he is. He couldn't impress her during the meal because I was so busy, but now he had his chance to fix me good right in front of his wife and I knew all about it, and I believe he knew I knew and this made him happy because he knew there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe not, but I was going to try.

"Well OK then I'll just bring you the bill." He hands me a credit card, and I take it to the end of the bar to run it through the credit card machine. It clears. So I take the card and the voucher and I go to the hostess station and get two silver mints, but I don't take them to the table. No not just yet. Instead I head up the back staircase to the fourth floor where I know no one ever comes. I set the credit card book down on the stairs and unwrapped each of the mints. Carefully so that the wrappers are still intact. Then I undo my belt and drop my pants and undershorts. I take each mint one at a time and shove it up my ass. I then push it back out using my rectal muscles and rewrap them. That is of course after I've inspected them for any visible debris. Then I pull up my pants and head down the stairs. I walk over to the table. Set the check and mints before them and say "Thank you very much and have a nice evening." After they leave I go over to the table and find a nickel and two empty mint wrappers. I believe that was the best tip of the evening.

—Tony H., Richmond VA

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