Remember those "Meet Bob" Enzyte commercials? I loved Bob's big smile, and all the big props used to communicate Bob's "biggerness" thanks to taking this male enhancement drug. And then I thought about the biggest d**k I know in this business, the chronic complainer:
Meet Bob. Talk about a major tool. Bob's a bigtime member of the constant complainer's club, and he 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 pops up, 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 food back. He's just picky."
Bullshit. Bob's just a prick. Bigtime. He couldn't care less about what's on his plate. He's more about dishing out attitude and eating up the attention acting like a jackass affords him.
So, Bob always goes balls-to-the-wall with his routine. He returns drinks to the bar unless and until they look and taste just so. He belittles everything from portion size 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 whisper to me as she walks out three strides 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 putting up with us," she'll say, time and time again.
For the record, guys like Bob are what they are, but they're no big deal, because comparing the personality package of a "Bob" to that of the dining population at large, I have to say, Bob; you're hung like a housecat.
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