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The servant at the IHOP last eve scoffed at my tip.

He was promptly let go after I raised hell and spoke emphatically with the manager.

It serves the company well, actually, as they will keep me as an occasional patron and they have loosed themselves of a distasteful servant. First, the water flask he brought our supper table was filled to the brim with ice. I offered him a lark by exclaiming, "Well, we aren't going to wait for it all to melt before we drink!"

The comment, rightly, got a laugh from the dozen at our table but the servant simply rolled his eyes. Strike one.

I ordered my usual dish of a porterhouse cooked rare topped with runny eggs. Obviously the servant couldn't get it right that "topped" means the eggs shall be placed on top of the steak, OR that rare means a cool pink centre. What he shuffled out before me was ghastly. I asked him to take it back and do it right. He returned with a nicely prepared steak, but again, the eggs were surrounding the meat like a moat. I asked him to take it back and bring it properly "topped" with the eggs. He brought it back a third time, but the dolt brought it back with the same eggs. They were on top, but they were lukewarm!

I asked him to try again, and the next time he brought it back and it looked decent, but just to be sure I asked him to take it back and fire it up once more. I figured I would find something wrong with it anyway, so I'd save him the verbiage. I say if a servant can't get a simple order of steak & eggs correct in five tries, he's an inept dimwit. Strike two.

He didn't even asked us if we wanted dessert, of which I promptly interrupted his little "have a good evening" spiel to inform him. Thank the lord we didn't have to send any of our pie back, or I'd have thrown hands with the boy right then and there.

He upset me--not quite enough for a full "strike", but upset me nonetheless--by continually coming back and asking us if we were 'ready for our check'. No, idiot, I'm not ready, I'm going to sit here and converse after a hearty meal. I hate it when these boors try to shuffle us out within an hour of finishing our meal, it's absolutely rude.

The last straw was when I presented him with his tip, more than what he deserved, no doubt. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something, before stomping off. I stood up and hollared at the boy, my chair flipping behind me. I commanded him to come back and repeat his snide remark, or else to return my $5. He sulked off, probably best for his sake, as I was furious. Not only had he ruined the evening, but he had insulted me in front of my guests.

I barked at some bar wench to get me the owner of the establishment, and they brought me this bookish looking nerd who identified himself as the Assistant Manager. I demanded an apology from the boy, complimentary dinner and another round of desserts.

The servant, apparently too freightened to return and face me, left in a huff. I consider it a community service that I acted in this way, the little bastard won't return and sully another guest's evening.

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