Twin Tower and the UFC

Working UFC is totally hit or miss.  Since you only get a section of about five tables with little to no turnover, a great night or a shitty night depends entirely on what sort of people are sat in your section initially.  Because of this, I used my seniority to avoid UFC nights altogether long ago.  While I'm sure I've missed out on some big tip nights, in the end my steady Saturday day shifts have probably been better in the long run.  And they've definitely been better on the stress level - which is a huge win in my opinion.

One UFC upon a time, Twin Tower had a pretty nice section; a few of her tables were turning over ensuring at least decent tips.  Of course even with those few tables, there had to be one demanding table.  The type of table that is blind, stupid, or just rude enough to not realize the restaurant is standing room only.  This is UFC, Hooters is always standing room only.  Usually people are nice enough to realize that shit is going to take longer because not only does everyone else need something too, but once you've got that something it takes an eternity to weave around the crowd to get to your tables.  Patience during UFC is crucial and this table didn't have that.

Really it wasn't that the entire table was impatient, it was that one lady - who had been taking excellent advantage of our margarita special - was being impatient enough for everyone.  She was running Twin Tower's ass off but none of the effort was appreciated.  It became evident fairly quickly that Twin could have brought a blender to the table and pumped out margaritas right into this lady's mouth and it still wouldn't be fast enough.

Eventually, the fights came to an end and Twin Tower began the process of handing out receipts to her tables.  And then the worst thing happened.  Of all the people at the table to pick up the check, it had to be that lady.  This has a way of happening; you have an awesome table where everything went right, but one unhappy, depressed with life, oblivious asshole ruins it.  And even though everyone else is happy with the way the meal went, that miserable person is not and inevitable decides to pay.  Where anyone else at the table would have left 15-20% this douche will of course leave ten or less.  Great.

And that, my friends, is exactly what happened.  The lady paid and left one of those awesome 0% tips on a rather large tab.  All that work - on one of the busiest nights - was for nothing.  Her biggest table had stiffed her.

Months and months later, Twin Tower had pretty much all but forgotten about the incident.  UFC fights had come and gone and new stories of assholery had replaced the old.  Six months had passed when a man walked into Hooters one day and refused a table when Twin Tower just happened to try and seat him.  This happened instead:

Twin Tower:  "One today?  Come on over!"

Man:  "Actually, I'm not looking for a table, but I was looking for you."

It was right about then that she noticed a receipt in his hand and his eyes on her nametag.  She was unsure what to say.

Man:  "I was in here about six months ago for UFC and realized after getting home that my wife didn't tip you appropriately.  I'm sorry I didn't notice at the time."

Tower began to say something but was interrupted.

Man:  "I just came back to make it right since I was in town."

He then handed her forty dollars.

Man:  "That seems about right with a little interest."

Twin Tower was totally and utterly floored and barely had time to deliver a thank you before the man was out the door and on his way.   Karma was probably smiling.

See, sometimes I DO have good tipping stories.