The Young, The Smug and The Restless

You never know what to expect when working a private party.  I always wonder what type of group will show up.  Will it be a mellow sophisticated wine drinking crowd or a rowdy beer-drinking group?  Will they end up ordering more food than they planned or will they simply pick at the appetizers leaving leftovers for the staff to consume in the prep kitchen?  Is it a birthday, anniversary or a work event?  All of these factors come into play as far as the vibe of the event and the personality of the people … and how much my tip will be. 

With the group I had a couple nights ago, I had no idea of what I was about to get myself into.  In the end, I had to take the bad with the good.   

The host arrived early and we talked about the timing of the food, the alcohol minimum of $1500 that had been predetermined and other necessary reception details.  He ordered a Macallen 12 on the rocks.  I thought, “Cool.  This could be a sign they are going to drink well and reach their minimum easily, or perhaps, and hopefully from a financial point of view, go over their minimum (which means more money in my pocket at the end of the night). 

In the blink of an eye, about 25 young men in suits and ties stormed in.  They immediately gathered around the bar and began ordering mostly hard liquor.  I thought, “Okay, my assumption was correct.  We’ve got some serious drinkers in the house.  It’s going to be a good night.”

But my attitude quickly changed shortly thereafter, right about the time the second group of males walked in.  There were about 20 of them, all under 25 years old, and much more feisty and pretentious than the first.  A few of these whippersnappers came up to me and asked for three Macallen 25, neat.  Keep in mind, Macallen 25 is $105 a pop.  Wow.  Now I’m stoked.  But I’m also wondering who orders a $100 drink at a reception that someone else is paying for?  Well, apparently these conceited wise guys do.

I brought them their first round of Macallen 25.  Then after about ten minutes as I was taking more drink orders around them, I saw they were smoking cigars.  I politely told them they couldn’t smoke on the patio but they could smoke on the boardwalk, literally five feet away.  One of them said, “We just ordered three Macallen 25.  I’m pretty sure we can do what we want.”  First of all, they weren’t even paying the bill for this event!  What a ridiculous and arrogant response.  Second of all, it’s the California law; regardless of how much money you’re “spending.”  Eventually I had my manager deal with them and their cigars.  And even after my manager spoke with them, they technically were still smoking too close to the restaurant.

They quickly kept ordering drink after drink and started to get rowdier, louder and even more obnoxious.  They had a pedicab stop on the boardwalk and blast music for them.  They got him to play LMFAO’s “Sexy and I know it.”  Meanwhile, my only table outside next to this party immediately waved me over and told me to get rid of the cab and the music or they would have to move or leave altogether.  So of course I had to tell the pedicab to leave.  Not surprisingly, their drunken response was to just hire the pedicab and take turns riding it down the boardwalk instead.  At least I didn’t have to deal with a portion of them for ten minutes intervals.

Then the truth came out.  One of the guys who was drinking the Macellen 25 told me, “You know why were ordering the most expensive drinks?  Because we hate the guy who is hosting the party.”  Wow.  What a bunch of upstanding citizens. 

Of course I had to tell the host when we hit the minimum of $1500, which was fairly quick as you can imagine.   Shortly thereafter, he told me not to sell any more Macallen 25.  So in response, the cheeky bastards started ordering Macallen 18, a measly $50 a shot.  But once his tab hit $3000 he pulled the trigger and stopped.  Smart man.  Those guys would have made him go bankrupt if they could have. 

The party only lasted two hours.  When I told them they were cut off and the party was over, they actually begged me to add four more shots of Macallen 18… “Just one more round!”  Yeah right.  When I told them I couldn’t, he was so furious it looked like smoke was going to blow out of his ears.  Then the devil actually asked me for a hug.  I told him to “Relax,” and I walked away.

When it was all said and done, the tip was tremendous.  So was it worth dealing with a bunch of young, smug and rude boys and the snowballing issues they caused me throughout my shift?  With the fresh wad of money in my wallet and driving away with all of that behind me, I have to admit... yes. 

Yes it was.    ~ HK ~