Dine and Dash (AKA Chew and Screw)

OK, so about 2 weeks ago I served two teenage girls at the Olive Garden. When I dropped their checks off, they asked for a To-Go cup, but when I came back to the table they were gone. A quick sweep of the restaurant, including the ladies' restroom by the hostess, quickly revealed that they had decided not to pay.

So, I reported it to the manager and went on my day. Well, as fate would have it, one of the girls happened to come back into the Olive Garden with her family the other night. I couldn't believe it. She was standing in the waiting area up against a wall, and she must've seen me, because as I passed by she quickly started scratching the top of her forehead - conveniently covering her face.

My heart was racing. Finally, this little turd was going to be squeezed out by the long arm of the law. If I didn't have to get a bowl of Pasta e Fagioli out to the patrons at table 36, I would've performed a citizen's arrest right then and there.

So, I ran off to find my manager, who sadly informed me that because we have no hard evidence, there was nothing we could do. NOTHING WE CAN DO? And furthermore, I could lose my job if I confronted her about the situation, so my manager warned me to be smart. I was a little upset to say the least.

Then, one of my tables opened up, so I quickly found the host and explained the situation. By this time I had made eye contact (I stared her down a little...) with the girl several times, and I could tell she was feeling the heat. I told my hostess to seat the family with me, and she told me she would.

I wasn't sure how I was going to treat the girl. I found myself debating how I should handle the situation. I couldn't accuse her of anything, or even bring up the incident, but she knew that I knew that she knew. You get the point.

I thought of all the ways I could really make her sweat, but in the end found myself deciding on an approach similar to Bishop Myriel in Les Misérables. I figured it was the Christian thing to do.

But alas, it was not meant to be. The hostess made the mistake of offering the family a choice of which side of the restaurant they would like to sit on. She should never have done that! Of course, the teenage girl quickly jumped at the opportunity to sit on the other side of the restaurant, and my grand plan never materialized.

Oh well, it would've been a great twist of irony for her to be seated at my table, but I guess God has a purpose for everything. She certainly felt the heat though! She'll think twice before she steals from the Olive Garden again.

Keep it real,

Ben