About a month ago The Shouting Customer showed up in our dining room. Before anyone had a chance to seat him he shouted, "I need a place to sit and a menu ASAP!"

That night he shouted to his waiter that his "...salad is too small!", but then proceeded to need a Doggy Bag for his dinner because he was "...way too full to finish!"

Since then he's come in once a week, and always with the same routine. "I need a place to sit and a menu ASAP!"

Last week his "....chowder was too hot!"

Always with the shouting.

Tonight he was in, made his arena announcement for his table and menu, and proceeded to shout that he was "...in a hurry and was very hungry, tell the kitchen!" And then annouced that his "...salad was too big!", but then proceeded to scrape the plate clean, and his dinner plate, too.

On his way out the door he annouced, "... I will be back next week. Have my table ready!"

Will do.

Can't wait.

But this time it doesn't belong to me.

If you haven't already visited Waiter Rant, you need to go read.

Beyond being a great blog, he's got a post titled "50 Signs You Might Be An Asshole Customer". I would like to add to that post the time we had a customer come in and order a cup of hot water, and a bottle of ketchup. He then proceeded to work on his laptop, and make himself a nice cup of Hot Ketchup Soup in his mug.

Good times.

So my voice is back, kind of, and it very quickly was put to good use.

We we're in the middle of a meeting, the Groom To Be, The Bride to be, and I. And we were discussing menus, venues, etc. when all of a sudden The Groom To Be... passes gas. It was an accidental "came with a cough" moment, a moment that took us all by surprise.

So the proper thing to do in this situation is pretend it never happened, right?

But I admit my gut reaction is to giggle. Because - life should be about The Giggle Moments. If we don't have The Giggle Moments we go crazy. But I have to remember that what I deem a giggle moment often is offensive to others.

So in this moment I kept looking at my notebook and sort of bit my lip, waiting for a cue. But the silence just hung there - and no one was saying a word. And like a little kid in church the silence made me need to giggle even more, to the point where I could feel my face flush. But I tried to blow it off by asking about a seafood option, and when I said the words, "...scampi" it came out more like "...scaaa..aaa...aaaahahahahmpi". And then it was over.

I had to set my notebook down and cover my mouth, and then apologize profusely. Fortunately The Clients were into the Giggle Moments like me, and they both busted out the giggles, and we all had a good laugh. The Groom To Be shook his head and said, "Thank God you're a good sport. I was thinking you would never want to work for us. I am so sorry. I am mortified, actually."

"Think nothing of it", I said. "We are all human. Things happen."

Then The Bride To Be said, "We should warn you we're a loud and gregarious bunch. I can't promise some of my brothers won't have 'accidents' like this at the reception. I am not proud of that fact, not proud of it at all, but they mean well and they like to have a good time. And sometimes lose their - manners. Will you charge us extra for these moments?"

"Only if they happen in the kitchen", I replied.

Good, fun people. God knows how I got them, but 'accidents' or not, I am not letting them go.

So about 5 days ago I lost my voice. Which is cause for celebration for many. But I have taken to using grand hand gestures as a form of communication.

The toilet in the men's room at The Restaurant cracked, backed up and flooded.

And the front door - it just fell off. I went to unlock it and it came careening toward me.

These are all signs I should be selling encyclopedias door to door...

If you are walking down the street and see a crazy looking woman in a tattered coat and soiled apron screaming, "MAKE A RESERVATION" at random increments, don't be frightened. Be nice to her.

It's probably me.

(To the kind people who e-mailed, comments are turned back on. I was on an out of town Gig for 4 days and turned them off to keep the penis peddlers at bay.)

So, I am in the grocery store. Which, lets be honest, I am there every day.

But anyway.

I am in the grocery store, and I was standing in the check-out line having a little chit-chat with my checker. You know - chit chat about the weather, what was going on with all the people on the tabloid covers, and thing like the price of lettuce. In the middle of our conversation I hear someone shout my name. So I look over toward the door and see a woman waving.

"Hi - Food Whore, right?"

"Oh, I thought so. Hey, you sent my daughter a quote for her garden reception in June. Her name is Julie."

I kept thinking maybe she would come closer to speak with me, but no - just the loudness from afar.

"Yes, Julie. I remember."

"Yeah. Well, she decided not to use you."

By this time others are staring.

"She's decided to with a different caterer - they were less expensive than you. Well. Good to see you!"

And off she went.

I looked back at my checker, who was staring toward where the woman was in disbelief. "Wait - did she just do what I thought?"

"Thank God she's not my gynecologist."

I wasn't even going to share this story A) Because its gross and B) Because yet again I am forced to share a story of some sort of mayhem involving The Restaurant that even I have a hard time coming to terms with.

But as I live and breathe I will never - ever - understand how some people operate in life believing they are good and worthy contributors to society.

Sunday morning I got a phone call from The Manager giving me an update on the weekend. Pretty normal stuff - The cooler issue was fixed, and the distributor brought out the 3 cases of romaine we got shorted on Friday's truck, and the new wait person was really working out great.

And then there was a pause. And it made me tense. Pauses in our conversations never end well.

"OK. What happened?", I asked.

"Well, a customer ... puked."

"They didn't tip. They ate, took the flowers, and didn't leave a tip."

So - this is what I am left to process. Someone came into The Restaurant - a restaurant which treated them to fresh flowers upon their arrival - they puked, demanded it be cleaned up, and walked out without so much as a thank you, fuck you, screw you, or here's to you. Nothing.

I've tried to make this funny somehow - put a little "Well this is ho my life goes... " spin on it.

But I can't. I am angry.

So angry, in fact, that I am waiting until the anger subsides a bit, and I can speak full sentences like a decent human being before I make a phone call.

If you want to puke, treat people like crap and walk out without leaving a tip - go to a high school kegger and find yourself a nice ant hill to languish on. Do not come into my house and make my people feel like your personal bed pan washer.

I really thought I was jaded enough that nothing would surprise me. But this - this has me bewildered.

At her request we met at her favorite coffee shop, and when she arrived she was a flurry of pink. Pink sweater, pink lipstick, pink binder, pink pen. Even her demeanor was pinkish.

She sat down and opened up her big binder to show all of the clippings, pictures, ideas and notes on her perfect day. I was happy to see it. I love an organized Bride.

She started out by saying, "Just so you know, I have been doing a lot of research on Budget Bride so I am pretty prepared for anything you have to throw at me."

I've not heard of Budget Bride. And I have no problem with this Budget Bride Guide except it gave Pink an apparent tone of 'you are not going to pull one over on me...' as she spoke.

I was all on board with the Budget Bride thing. I think it is great when a person can find a way to make their dreams come true and be sensible about it. But the whole '...pull one over on me...' made my jaw clench.

"Ok", I said. "So what are you thinking here..."

"Well, first of all, I know that you make a lot of money. And I do not have a lot of money to spend. But I know you want the business, so I think we can deal here."

Game face, Food Whore, Game Face...

I bit the corner of my lip and chuckled a bit. "And by deal you mean..."

"Well. I am pretty up on my food costs. So I have a menu in mind, and a price I would like to pay for it."

I took a deep breath. Wishing I had opted for a shot of brandy in my coffee. "Ok, then. You tell me what your menu is and we will see what we can do."

Smile... don't forget to smile...

"I would like a simple array of appetizers - and by simple I mean inexpensive. Crudites', smoked salmon, maybe a little blanched asparagus. And then I want a nice wilted spinach salad. Spinach is very inexpensive, you know. Then I want beef tenderloin, roasted potatoes, glazed carrots, and a good assortments of breads. I would also like to go with a nice pasta for my vegetarian friends, too. But I am still working on what kind."

"But you should know, I only expect to pay $15.95 per person, tax and gratuity included. Oh, and of course china, flatware, stemware and linens. The bar is separate, but I would like some sparkling cider thrown in for my non-drinking guests." She tilted her head a little and sat back in her chair, smiling as if she had just slayed the dragon.

I took a sip of my coffee to mask the guffaw that was about to roll out of my mouth, smiled and said, "$15.95, all inclusive?"

"Yes."

"I knew you were going to say that. I have done my reading, and even though I know you have a stellar reputation, I wanted to be prepared for being taken advantage of."

I took another sip of coffee, and tried to play out a response in my head that did not come across as snarky, condescending or result in my beating her over the head with the pink binder.

"I can appreciate that you came prepared. I applaud that, actually. And I applaud the fact that you have a very strict budget in mind, too. You should be smart on a day like your wedding. But no dealing in the world will ever make that menu happen for that price. I am really sorry, but it just cannot be done."

"Ok, then. My top dollar is $17.95 per person."

I don't know if she thought she was buying a used car, or if I was being Punk'd, but I tried to convince myself that her attitude was born of naivete, and not utter disrespect or stupidity.

"I don't like to tell people no. I hate it, in fact. But the answer is no. I am really sorry, but for all that you want, it is not going to happen. If that is your firm budget, perhaps you need to rethink your expectations a little bit."

"Well I am willing to have salmon instead of pasta, and I would trade the smoked salmon for chilled prawns."

Oh my God - did she just add salmon and prawns?

"I think, maybe, you should go in a different direction. And by different direction I mean a different Caterer. And again, I do not like to say no, but we will not be able to meet your budget - or your expectations - and it is best that you look elsewhere. Have you checked into other options?"

"Well I have, but the reason we didn't book the golf resort was because they wanted over $60 for that menu, not including tax and gratuity, and room fees!"

"And what exactly made you think I would be able to do it for you at the price you want?"

"Well because - because Budget Bride..."

I held my hand up. "Ok, Budget Bride - I get it. I don't what more I can say other than we will not be able to help you. I am not even going to give you names, because I guarantee you will not find that price for what you want."

"So you like to play hardball, then."

Yes, I do. And if I had a bat I would hit you with it.

"No, this isn't a game. This is real life. And I wish you all the luck with your wedding."

I started gathering up my notes, all while smiling, and she sat there stunned. As if the Magic 8-Ball that is Budget Bride had betrayed her. And if it told her she could have that menu for that price, someone needs to find the author and remove the crack pipe glued to their mouth.

"So that's it? You won't do it? You can't make that work?"

"Oh I am so sorry, but no, we can't. But I wish you a wonderful special day."

So sweet - so - kind. Hard to believe I can be that way considering my heart is made of vodka.

To the person who e-mailed me asking what steps they needed to take to start a catering business - I say use those steps to run like Hell the other way. Or be prepared to drink your liver into a coma.

I love to watch people. (And then, of course, ultimately blog about them...)

A relaxing day for me would be sitting at the airport just watching people all day long. But in this day and age that would get me arrested for suspicious behavior, where they would promptly take my shoes and confiscate the ever-present dental floss from my purse.

Anyway.

On my way to a lunch meeting I found myself in a little bit of a traffic jam, so I had to wait a couple cycles at the stop light. Next to me a man was cramming McDonald's french fries into his mouth, while alternately picking his nose. I wanted to look away, even gagged a little, but it was kind of like a car accident, or scary movie. You know you shouldn't look, but you just can't stop. I even called The Sister just to tell her what I was witnessing, as if it was some phenomenon.

And eh, I don't know. In the big scheme of things, very small. Very - gross.

But totally blogworthy...