The Horrids: Epilogue

Really?  Is that a promise?

I don't understand why some customers think that this is an effective threat . . . it just goes to show how divorced from reality some people are.  They haven't the slightest inkling that they are perfectly unpleasant people and that every time they set foot inside a restaurant they set into motion a chain of events which will be akin to slow torture for all parties involved.  Imagine the hollowness of Daughter Horrid's parting words.  Was she hoping to give everyone involved cause to celebrate?  Joy-spreading seems more than a little out of character for her, but joy she had spread nevertheless.

What exactly is a person like Daughter Horrid bringing to the establishment besides an appalling lack of social grace?  A six-dollar payout?  A nonexistent tip?  Does she enjoy keeping people beyond the closing hour just to wait on her--I often wonder about certain people the type of help they have at home because it seems that they often confuse servers with servants.

Already, one can see that Daughter Horrid ranks in the most netherly-located reaches of the morass from which bad customers emerge and that her absence from any restaurant would be a source of unending delight for workers and buildings alike.  Now, to sweeten the proposition, we'll throw in a handful of hissy-fits and unnecessary calls to law enforcement.  Are you sure we can't talk you into coming back, sweetheart?

If Daughter Horrid really wanted to sting us, might I suggest the following parting shot:  I am coming back to eat every day.  I know I am a horrible person and that to be in my presence is nearly unbearable.  My behavior, while outlandish and symptomatic of any number of recognized personality disorders, is my own and it is my right as a customer to behave in the reprehensible manner that I have chosen.  You'd better get used to me, wage-slaves, because we are going to be seeing a lot of each other.   Now can I get a side of eel sauce?


Fortunately, this degree of self-awareness is a rarity.  Daughter Horrid will go on with her life, holding on to the belief that she has somehow struck a blow to our establishment.  The promise never to return is always met by the staff with a sense of relief.  Nobody who has ever worked inside my confines has ever felt otherwise.  The crass broadcasting of one's unhappiness with the dining experience is something in which polite, well-mannered people simply do not indulge.  They may make their decision not to return privately and indeed, if they did belong to that special brand of exemplary customer, their absence may be noted, even lamented.  So the next time your every desire was not met in a restaurant, go ahead, raise a big stink and promise to never return.  You're sure to make some people very happy.