Meet Bob. Talk about a major tool. Bob's one of those types who makes us hard working restaurant stiffs wince over the thought of having to accommodate him.
Bob's friends and family insist he's just hard to please. Every time he comes in, everyone with him seems to take turns apologizing for his condescending and contentious demeanor.
"Don't take it personally," someone in Bob's enabling posse will say. "Bob always sends his steak back. He's very picky." Bullshit. Bob couldn't care less about what's on his plate. He's all about eating up the attention that acting like an asshole brings him.
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So, Bob always goes balls-to-the-wall. He sends drinks back to the bar unless and until they look and taste just so. He belittles everything from portion sizes to service, making it plain that nothing about the restaurant measures up to his standards.
And he returns regularly to do so.
"Bob's hard, I know," Bob's wife will tell me as she's walking out three steps behind him, so she can slip me a little extra tip money for my trouble. Not surprisingly, Bob comes up a little short in that department. "Thanks for taking it all in stride," is what she says, time and again.
FYI, Ma'am: Bob's a huge dick, granted, but he's no big deal. Because comparing your husband's personality package to that of the general dining population, I have to say, Bob's hung like a housecat.