You Seven-Year-Olds And Your Sense Of Entitlement.
Customer service in America is nearly impossible.
In America, there is a sense of entitlement that is unmatched by any other country in the world. Americans believe that America is the greatest country in the world, so naturally Americans believe they are the greatest PEOPLE in the world and deserve the greatest SERVICE in the world.
And it’s not just adults, although middle-aged Americans can be some of the most self-centered people in the world. No, this sense of entitlement is being passed down to younger generations every day by mothers and fathers who feel that just because they have a little money to wave around, they deserve to be treated as though they were divinely-appointed kings and queens.
For example, a seven-year-old boy was drinking some pineapple juice the other day. We were out of the larger glasses (as this restaurant does quite frequently, we’re terribly-stocked) and so I brought the child his juice in a 16oz. glass instead of an (adult-size, mind you) 24oz. glass.
Sounds harmless, right? Not to this seven-year-old.
The kid: “Ummm…sir…why am I receiving a smaller glass than that of my parents?”
Me: (Shocked at his grammar and diction) “Oh, all the larger glasses are dirty. I’m sure that by your next refill the adult glasses will be…”
The kid: “That is unacceptable.”
Me: “That’s what?”
The kid: “That is unacceptable.”
Me: “Okay, well, what I can do is…”
The kid: “Take this glass (he hands me a cup from an adjacent table) and clean it. It’s not that hard.”
Are you kidding me? I wanted to scream at this little boy. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t deserve to be treated like a prince. I wanted to yell at him about how Santa wasn’t real and how the Easter Bunny would stab him in his sleep if he had the chance and how the Tooth Fairy was really a mass murderer, but I didn’t. I took the moral high road.
Against a seven-year-old. I shouldn’t have to be making the decision to take the moral high road when dealing with a seven-year-old.
Instead, I just put on my fake-happy grin, looked at the parents for some support and received none. Absolutely none. These parents just had some sort of satisfying grin like their little Johnny had done exactly as he’d been taught by his two sorry excuses for parents.
There you have it. Here sitting next to little Johnny were two parents who had instilled in this seven-year-old a sense of entitlement so deep and so ingrained that he will always be treating people as though they are beneath him. It is the parents’ faults. It has to be.
So I go and get the seven-year-old a new glass. I personally wash a larger glass, go to the restaurant’s bar, take out some juice and fill it up for the kid. As I’m walking back to the table all I can think is that the glass is far too large for a child as young as seven. It’s almost too large for me and I’m 22.
I drop off the glass and before I can get my pad out to take their order, the child interjects a little more entitlement into the situation:
Him: “Was that so hard?”
Me: “Excuse me? Listen, if I can just say something here…”
The kid’s father: “I think you’ve said enough.”
I am stunned. I am boiling hot mad and there’s not a thing I can do about it. I can’t get mad or I run the risk of being fired. And I can’t let it go because, well, I’m far too prideful a person.
Me: “Sir, can I just take you all’s orders?”
The kid’s mother: “We should have stayed in New York. This trip to Florida is just daunting.”
The kid’s father: “You’re probably right.”
Me: “You guys look like you all need some more time. Let me give you all just one more minute or two.”
So I give them two minutes. I use the time to go to the bathroom, splash some cold water on my face and regain my composure. It’s going to take every bit of strength I have to look as though I’m even remotely enjoying serving these people.
I walk back up to the table. With eyes rolled, they give me their orders and then proceed to complain that their sushi is too dry and that their filet mignon is too wet. (Who ever heard of a “wet” steak? In all my years as a waiter, I have NEVER heard of a “wet” steak.)
As they pay their check and exit the restaurant, I can’t help but think that these parents are really doing their child a disservice. They’re teaching him that it’s okay to be rude. You’re the customer, you have the money, you can complain to management if you want. You hold all the cards. You hold this waiter’s job and livelihood in your hand.
Those parents are telling their child that you can come into a restaurant and think you are entitled to treat a server like garbage because THEY’RE the service. YOU’RE the ones with the money and you can dangle it in front of them for the duration of your time in the restaurant. You should think you’re doing lucky them a favor by being the ones they service.
Unlucky for them, I had already made about a hundred bucks on the night and didn’t need their “favor”.
Suffice to say, that kid was thirsty as hell when he left our restaurant.
March 17th, 2008 at 9:05
Top blog!
keep it up.
March 17th, 2008 at 12:48
This is why I believe firmly in teenagers working service jobs for all but the basic necessities of existence. It teaches you as nothing else can what it’s like to be on the other side of the interaction and why it’s important to be a true lady or gentleman.
Amusingly, I like to read old etiquette books, and the ones from the turn of the century keep saying that you can always tell the nouveau riche because they’re rude to the servants.
March 17th, 2008 at 2:38
I cannot believe how you kept your composure. I don’t know what I would’ve done but I know it wouldn’t have been nearly as tactful. I see unchecked rude people everywhere and it makes me sick. Good thing for us, we will always be happy with most of life. For them, life will always be a little “too dry” or “too wet”.
March 17th, 2008 at 11:51
Yeah, those parents didn’t tell their kid the cardinal rule of restaurants, “Never fuck with people who handle your food.”…
March 18th, 2008 at 7:58
Gawd what obnoxious behaviour - never mind that of the child!!!! I hope that youngster moves away as soon as he can because parents like that are going to ruin his adult life. You can almost forgive a child acting up like that, but an adult, NEVER.
March 18th, 2008 at 1:02
This has happened to me before, I was waiting on a very well dressed table in a casual bistro, mom and dad were busy with their guest and couldn’t spend any time stopping their two brats from deadlegging me every time I went past their table. Their food comes out and the adults would like some fresh pepper on theirs, I fetch the grinder, proceed to my duties and ask if there’s anything else.
two seconds later, after returning the pepper mill to it’s rightful place, the douche 7-year old screams out “EXCUSE ME! WAITER! WHERE’S MY PEPPER!”
Okay you piece of shit, here’s some pepper, Yes, parents, avoid my wiater gaze of doom. the five year old got a piece of the glare and almost shit himself. Okay you only have one future mass murderer on your hands.
It’s a good thing it was a day shift otherwise I wouldn’t have made it home sober.
March 18th, 2008 at 1:56
Holy. Crap.
I don’t think I could’ve kept my cool through that. I very well might have smashed the (dirty) glass over the (to quote Raging Server’s term) Crotch Spawn’s head and then run for it.
Wow. Just. Wow.
March 18th, 2008 at 3:21
Parents like that make me sick. I would NEVER allow my kids to talk to anyone like that. Especially not the person serving their food.
March 18th, 2008 at 4:45
I always tend to make my way to this site every other day while at bored at work and love knowing that others have just as many shitty customers that I do.
Anyway, this story reminded me of a job I once had. Notice I said once had. This was the only job I’ve ever been fired from and I was very proud of it.
I was serving in a very high class restaurant that attracts the richest assholes on the planet. I’m talking these guys would roll up in their bentley’s and hired hooker in order to gorge on some over price steaks. One night I was kind of in a foul mood because I had had an argument with my then girlfriend, thus my disposition was a bit fake. I get this asshole and his hooker their waters and come back to take their order when this dude looks me right in the eye and says “hey you’re kinda pretty!” This signified to me that this guy was drunk and lookin for a verbal battle. Great…I love these guys. I said “Thanks….I guess…What may I get for you this even?” They order and I forget all about the comment this dude just made…until I am carrying this massive tray to his table with all of his food. This guy..I swear…Looks at his wife and says “I bet you’d like to sleep with him wouldn’t you?” I was shocked! He then proceeds to ask me if I would sleep with his….girl. I tried to play it off nice. He then sees my modesty as an insult and proceeds to pummel me with comments like “oh you think you’re too good for her?” and “i bet you’re gay aren’t you?” I asked the girl to please exit the from behind the table for just one moment. She gets and stands next to me not knowing what I wanted her to get out of the table for. I look at her and smile and tilt the entire table (wine, water, entrees, plates forks, napkins, table cloth, sugar caddy and salt and pepper shakers) into his lap. Looked him dead in the eye and said “GO FUCK YOURSELF!” and threw my apron and crumber at him and walked out the door.
March 19th, 2008 at 6:49
LOL at James V’s comment. As for the kid in the post I would have given his glass the special cold sink, no soap, spit-shine around the rim wash.
March 20th, 2008 at 3:52
[…] Children can be a whiny, needy bunch. But is it just me or are parents using that to their advantage? Every day, I notice that more and more parents are exploiting the fact that we servers will hop to it when a little kid wants a refill or an extra side. […]
April 24th, 2008 at 3:52
Holy shit. If that had been my son, I would have grounded his ass until his 18th birthday. If I didn’t drop dead from mortification first.
June 17th, 2008 at 6:07
I’ve considered going back to waiting on the side to earn a little extra money, but situations like this make it not seem worth it. Waiting is a very kiss-ass job and I would have simply walked without dignifying the little brat with a response and told a manager why I would not be serving that table.
I’ve been hoping to observe a situation like this as a customer so that I could call-out the other customer as being a complete douchebag, but so far the situation hasn’t presented itself.
“mom and dad were busy with their guest and couldn’t spend any time stopping their two brats from deadlegging me every time I went past their table.”
It takes a lot to make me lose my cool, but in a situation like this I could justify hauling the two brats up by their collars. In a situation like this I believe you could actually have the parents charged with assault.
James V: Congratulations on a job well done. People need to learn that they can’t treat other people like shit. I like money, but I don’t need it badly enough to put up with shit like that.
Gina: Thank you for being a good parent. You seem to be a rare breed these days.