Working in a restaurant and encountering tables of Karens is a lot to juggle to begin with, but you know what? Throw in a global quarantine and restrictions and things can only get worse.
Working in a restaurant and encountering tables of Karens is a lot to juggle to begin with, but you know what? Throw in a global quarantine and restrictions and things can only get worse. Restaurant employees are constantly overextending and exposing themselves to the global situation at hand just to provide some sense of normalcy. Take a look at this poor OP, who had no idea what she was getting herself into when she took on a table of eight (already pushing restrictions). She’s truly doing the most.
It was a particularly slow Monday for OP’s restaurant. She didn’t have any tables until later in the evening, around 5:30pm. A two-top was seated in her section, but wanted a happy hour, which was high tops only of course, so she moved them to the right section. The hostesses were able to get our OP a new table immediately, but it was a group of eight. It consisted of six adult women and two boys around 8 years old.
“In hindsight, I should have just given the two top happy hours and taken the wrath from management.” OP wishes she could have just escaped it all. “I’m putting money on these women being sorority sisters or something.”
The eight top is immediately obnoxiously loud (sorority sisters indeed, OP) but it’s pretty easy to pinpoint that seat #3 is causing it all. The table of eight also had a birthday at the table which resulted in a lot of “oh my gaaaawd, girls!! Let’s sing!! Every time someone mentions the birthday we HAVE to sing!” And they did. They sang/screamed happy birthday no less than 5 times (one for every round of drinks/shots!). This would drive anyone mad. By the time the group’s appetizers came out, OP’s manager had already walked up to them about a noise complaint from a table across the restaurant.
Then things started to escalate.
Karen, a grown adult woman, goes to the bathroom, but stops halfway and asks OP, “Wait, do I need a mask?”
“Yes, ma’am, you do when you’re traveling around the restaurant.” OP responds.
“Are you sure??”
“... yes, ma’am.”
“Like, really sure??”
My goodness. Why are people STILL asking whether or not they should be wearing a mask? We're in month NINE (9) of a p a n d e m i c. Not wearing a mask in such a highly trafficked public area such as a restaurant is completely selfish and irresponsible. And not surprisingly, a total Karen move. Why am I even getting worked up about this, at the end of the day Karen is gonna be Karen.
“This conversation happened multiple times with Karen and our other staff members.” OP recalled, “she would stop a staff member every time she ran to her car, went to the bathroom, checked out the restaurant, ran after a kid, and asked, ‘Are you sure I gotta wear a mask?’ And of course, she never wore it.”
Alright, again, IS IT REALLY THAT HARD TO WEAR A MASK? This restaurant is open, serving this entitled group of women, and yet they can’t even follow the common courtesy of wearing a mask as they maneuver around away from their table. I know what you’re wondering, why doesn’t our dear OP just tell them to wear their masks? Well, nothing is ever that easy.
“My work doesn’t allow staff to enforce mask policy,” OP stresses, “so I couldn’t do anything but answer her questions and maintain a 6ft distance.”
So then the first round of drinks comes out. App’s get dropped. Kid’s food gets dropped. OP is standing there taking the ladies orders, all the while watching the boys who are to her left/in front of her. One of the boys is enjoying his first ever shirley temple. How cute.
“I was so happy to give it to him. I shoved so many cherries in that kids cup.” OP had a moment of fondness. But as the boy’s sitting there chugging his daily requirement of sugar, he suddenly sits up while still drinking, and turns towards our OP. He then pulled the straw from the cup, with liquid still in the straw. His mouth was so full his cheeks were bulging, and he turned towards OP, and SPIT his drink through the straw down her legs.
OP let out a bewildered, “Excuse me?!” as her legs are dripping with shirley temple and 8 year old boy saliva during a global panic. What’d the mom do? LAUGHED. Even praised him! “Good one, Dom!!”
OP walked away, thankfully already having everyone’s orders when it happened. She went to get Clorox wipes to clean her legs. When she came back out and started heading to a different table, Karen comes barreling from across the restaurant, and I mean absolutely hauling it, without a mask on. She catches up to our OP, grabs her arm, and turns her around. May I repeat: NO mask! She then proceeds to get in OP’s face, to the point they are physically touching, and goes, “We have a birthday at the table... do you guys do anything for that?? Like sing maybe? Ooh! Or cake! Bring out a cake! Do you have a chocolate one and candles?!”
The entire time she’s going on about this request, OP backing up slowly. Trying anything to get away and have her safe bubble back. But Karen is following OP step for step.
“I have backed up so far that I have now backed up into another table that actually has people eating at it, and she is still toe to toe with me going on about cake and singing.” OP shudders, “I can smell the drink on her breath through my mask. She is so close and maskless I am visibly uncomfortable. Finally, made her happy with a slice of baked Alaska for the table for free, and she finally stepped off.”
The table OP backed into wouldn’t even let her apologize for being on top of them practically. This table was the saving grace as they turned out to be the table who complained about the noise in the beginning! They were 100% on OP’s side after getting the full experience just now with Karen, and would continue to be on OP’s side & explain to the managers what was going on.
Time goes on and OP brings out dessert. Baked Alaska, she set it on fire, ooh ahh. That dessert didn’t stand a chance, it was gone in seconds. When OP went back over to make sure no one wanted anything else, Karen exclaimed, “Why did the hostess yell at us earlier?”
Me: “Oh... Well, that was the manager. She was informing you that you have a noise complaint against your party.”
Karen: “Who complained? Tell me who complained, I’ll take care of it.”
Me: “Yeah... I can’t release that information.”
Karen: “You can’t? Uh okay. Well can you tell her to hop off?”
Me: “Yeah, that’s my manager, I can’t do that either.”
Karen: “Okay, well you can just hop off then.”
OP walked right up to her manager and asked her to cash them out and handle whatever they had left, she was done. There were 4 different managers in the building that day and all 4 had been watching the table since the noise complaint before apps, so this manager didn’t ask any questions from OP and just printed the check for them and walked over. When she made her way over, she said, “Hey everyone. Here’s your check, it’s time for you to head on out of here.”
Seat #2, who is actually a really nice lady and doesn’t deserve to be roped in with her terrible friends, starts apologizing for everyone’s behavior. Manager just says, “It’s time to go.” and keeps repeating it till #2 paid for the entire check ($304 after discounts) and they left.
But the disaster didn’t end there.
OP went with the bussers and started cleaning this absolutely wrecked table. One of the bussers reaches under the table and grabs this aqua blue pile of fabric. He was turning it this way and that, trying to figure out how someone would wear that sort of chin diaper, when he spots the skid marks. Yep. This table left their POOPY panties under OP’s table. And guess whose seat they were by? KAREN!
So if you think you have it bad, please remember this poor OP’s experience handling a Karen table in a global shut-down where she was tipped with skid marked panties. Also, if you’re going to go to a restaurant in the state of the world right now, please wear a mask and tip your servers well. Don’t be a Karen.