Tipping Point ? My Very Worst Date

I decided to go on a date with this man who at one time worked at the same fine-dining restaurant I bartended at. They were really picky about who they hire, so I figured I would be in for a nice night of intelligent conversation with an appreciation for food & drink. We met up at my favorite restaurant in town. He was running a little late for our 9pm date, so I took my time in getting there as well.

After I sat at the table (at 9:21 pm), I realized the restaurant closed at 9:30, so I picked out several dishes (it was tapas). I also told our waiter that that is all we would order, since the kitchen was closing soon. I called my date and told him what I was doing. Instead of being sympathetic to the establishment, he showed up at about 10, and did nothing but complain about my selections?even though he had shown up an hour after we made our date.

The conversation was awkward. He talked about himself non-stop, and was condescending about my interests, aspirations, and lingered on my brief foray into fetish modeling. When the check came, we split it, but he insisted on paying the tip. I asked him how much he was tipping since we had been the only people in the restaurant for a good 45 minutes, it had been closed for well over an hour, the bartender had made us several drinks, and the busboy was shooting us dirty looks.

Now, I have to explain that whatever we gave our poor server, he would have to give a percentage to his support staff, his work had obviously been done for a while and he was simply waiting on us to leave so he could cash out and go home for the night. Since my date KNEW I worked in a place just like this, and he had as well, he knew that to hold up the whole establishment as we had done, required at least a 20 percent tip, if not closer to 30 percent. It?s karma, it was a 30 dollar bill, and leaving 10 bucks still meant that we were only spending 20 dollars for food and drinks for the both of us, and the server would probably get to take home 6 dollars after the bar and busser?s take. He sat there, did the math in his head, and said, ?oh I guess, 12% or so, it?s not like he did anything special.?

I was aghast at his inconsideration of the server?s extra time and energy, and told him no way. I threw in an extra 10 in the book and added that ?the way a man treats waitstaff is so indicative of his personal character.? He should know that the amount wouldn?t impress me when he said it.

?Well, I don?t know why you have to be such a c**t about it.?

I stood up, apologized to our server, and stormed to the parking lot. He followed me. I wasn?t going to even tell him what he had done wrong, but he got in between me and my driver?s side door, and still expected a hug and a goodnight kiss, and tried to make another date. Incredible.

Source: http://myveryworstdate.com/2011/07/24/tipping-point/

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