Dinner with the Frosty Bitch

I can think of many enjoyable ways to spend an evening, none of these methods include the General Counsel (aka Frosty Bitch, please see part 1 of the credit card saga) and eating a meal with her or spending any significant amount of time trapped with her. But alas, when the general counsel invites you and your significant other out to dinner with herself and her husband you tend to feel obliged to go. So go we did, to a great steak house in Tyson’s Corner that I have frequently passed by but have never visited.

To begin, you should know that I really hate this woman. She was a horrible bitch to work for and now she is just a horrible bitch to work around. So below please find some bulleted highlights of the evening (because I know attention spans are getting shorter :)

- FB, your husband is a professional (an architect I believe?) and I am sure (no really sure, I have seen your American Express bill!) that you two regularly dine at finer establishments, the steakhouse was no exception. A side salad was $12, which should give you a hint that jeans, a ratty sports cab and sneakers are not OK. Wasn’t he a bit embarrassed when asked if he would like to borrow a jacket? Well we were thanks!

- Honey Mustard????? Really? Did you see the choice of dressing, some really great things, very creative, specially crafted to go with the salad, but no….you ask if there was any “Honey Mustard”. Our tired server practically laughed when she told you, no there was none. Most people would have let it go, but not you take this as a personal affront. (“What, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard…. I can’t believe this….. what kind of place is this??”) FB….. It’s the type of place where kids and adults who have hissy fits over a dressing are not welcome.

- I am not a parent, but if I were I imagine that during a night out I might want to call my home to make sure that the children are all safe and the such. Don’t you think the best place for said conversation is away from the dinner table? Aside from the rudeness of making a cell phone call in a quiet restaurant was the fact that you were screaming and discussing your little one’s stomach troubles. Eww…..look around you, we’re *eating*….go talk near the entrance, at the bar, in the restroom, or anywhere else. Also, continuing to shovel food into your face while chatting was a great classy touch!

- The best was definitely saved for last. When it was time to pay the bill your deviant/husband reached for the bill. Instead allowing him to for once wear the pants, you start reminding him of ways the server slighted you and should get less tip. There was the honey mustard (yea… she was definitely the one that decided not to stock it, or maybe she knew you wanted it so badly she decided to not order this week). Then there was the time that we ate the bread but the basket remained, empty and unneeded for several minutes (the audacity of her). But of course the best was the fact that she didn’t appear to have many tables and “wasn’t even that busy or working very hard” (yea….what a freaking slacker, only 3 tables in her section and she appeared calm and under control, I really love to see people work for it too….). Just get this through your head, you’re a cheap awful bitch and have NO appreciation for anyone working hard at all. You didn’t appreciate me when I worked for you, you torment your new assistant, and for god sakes, you had a great meal and want to nitpick whether some sever was working hard enough or not.
So, thanks for dinner. We do appreciate you picking the tab up. You’d have a fit if you knew before we walked out the door Boyfriend gave the waitress a $50, because god knows what you left, she had to put up with your idiocy, and we had a great meal. Now…choke on it J

Sincerely,

FY-