Fancy a British Invasion?

A large convention full of Europeans passed through town again and our restaurant got hit hard. As much as we love being busy, let's face it, the Euros aren't exactly our favorite clientele.  Espressos, wine and beer abound, yet not much abound in our wallets at the end of the day.

The notorious low tippers were back in full force.  Most of us were lucky to get $5 tips on tabs over $200, but more common was the sight of coins left as tips on $100 tabs.  

One server, poor thing, got stiffed on a $300 check. They didn't speak much English, were her first table to arrive and last to leave.  They drank several bottles of Prosecco and were apparently very needy on top of that ... big surprise.  She actually asked the man to “total the bill please” after she noticed he simply signed his name on the credit card slip.  After she asked, all he did was write the same amount as the check on the bottom line.  Needless to say she was livid.   He knew damn well what she was referring to.  Even $10 would have been infuriating.  But nothing?  C’mon man.  

It could have happened to any one of us that day.  

As for myself, I somehow got lucky.   Almost every foreigner I waited on were Brits.  

There was huge amount of the beloved British in this Euro conference as well.  The servers and I thoroughly enjoyed imitating their classic British accents in the side stations (albeit quietly) for the majority of the week.  Wildly entertaining.  "Allo.  Fancy a beer, do ya?!  Brilliant!  Cheers mate!"  

I must have had some stellar karma on my side because generally I was tipped very well during their visit.  I had a blast with the Brits.  In fact, on the first day of the convention, one of my tables of two somewhat attractive Brits couldn’t seem to finish their second bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.  So they graciously told me I could have it.  It was just half full.   Stoked.  And the bloke actually tipped me 25% on his tab too.  Between the wine and the 25% tip, I'd say I was pretty happy.  As happy as...well... a Brit drinking wine outside in the sunshine in San Diego.  Of course I told them to come back anytime.  

And damn they did ever.  

The British invasion proceeded in full force for the next four days (their livers obviously tuned up and well-groomed for their plans of total debauchery in San Diego).  Wow they could drink.  They literally drank us dry of our Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc during their 5-day conference.  For the even rowdier bunch, a disturbing amount of Beefeater, Tanqueray and Bombay Sapphire vanished in a flash.  They were in our restaurant literally every day and every evening, glass after glass, bottle after bottle, soaking in the California sunshine and embracing the ability to drink outdoors in October (without a coat or a scarf ... or long underwear).  They were (insert British accent) massively entertaining. 

Perhaps it wasn’t my amazing karma that helped me get excellent tips the whole week.  Maybe it was the fact that most of them had flushed cheeks and couldn't see straight by the time the bill came.

No mind to me.  I was pretty happy.  As happy as ... well... a server with heaps of cool guests who tip well and are highly entertaining.  Serving up the Brits (a fascinating heavy drinking breed of humanity) with a smile.

Cheers.  ~ HK ~