Imagine you're waiting tables, scurrying around with hot plates, forcing a smile every time someone asks for some extra sauce. ‘Of course’, you say, and run to go get some… for the fifth time that night, for that table. Finally, a glimmer of relief, table 12 wants to pay. They'd been relatively great, smiled politely, said ‘please’, and hadn't bothered you. You'd even had good banter with them, so you expect they'll tip well. No luck, they don't even leave a tip… and their bill is just about $2…

Coffee mugs rattle, silverware clinks, and the grill is sizzling. You weave your way through the packed tables, refilling customers' water and delivering steaming hot plates piled with burgers and fries. Ten years in the biz, and you've got this dance down to a T. Your muscle memory serves you well as the crowd thickens. You juggle orders, argue with the kitchen, and wish your coworkers cared about their tips as much as you do. Why does it seem like you're doing everything alone? By closing tim…

"I used to be a server like you, and I've gotten stiffed by tables before. It just happens and you need to get used to it" were a restaurant owner's words when one of the waiters approached him after being stiffed on a $3,600 event. Talk about a good manager, huh? OP took to r/Serverlife after a frustrating incident at work happened, where he was forced to wait on a large party with a reservation booking in the restaurant's event room. Per usual, the restaurant was ridiculously understaffed, an…