Hey, somebody's gotta be the designated drinker.

Dear Flying Saucer Waitress,

Hi. Just a quick note. So when I walk in and find the one last table and it has no chairs and then I ask you, "hey, are there any chairs around?" well guess what. I don't think you're hiding them in the back. It's just that it might be nice if you'd snag one from another table that isn't being used. You know, to save me (hi! remember me? I'm the customer) the hassle of bothering your customers, making the establishment look inept and then parading that chair back to my table in my six-inch heels. As part of your job, ya know, it might take you all of thirty seconds. You spend far more time standing there looking around telling me, "What you see is what we've got. Had a shortage lately. Maybe someone isn't using one?"

Gee, ya think? And wow, that brain power is simply astonishing, just fyi.

I realize you're busy and hey, for all I know, eight other people called in sick. Maybe the owner and the bartender, too. And guess what. I don't care. I really don't. Years in retail have beaten it out of me. Years of bending over and taking it with a smile have really taught me to respect others who go out of their way for me.

You are not one of them.

So smile when you collect your shit-ass tip.

Ta!

Ellen Aim