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For those of us who work at restaurant, we know that it's not always the walk in the park that it sometimes seems. It's not the pay, the hours or the stomach-churning details that're usually the problem. It's the customers, the horrible customers that make a restaurant worker's life hell on earth.

- The Jokester: Yes, we all know that you're probably very hilarious at home, with your easily amused and most likely dim-witted children. But if you make one more joke about my name, ask a stupid question about the food, sign a fake name on the receipt or tell another bad pun, I will punch you in the mouth. Try eatin' the food with no teeth.

- The Sampler: That one person who wants a sample of everything, no matter what it is. And for some reason, it's always "for the baby". Excuse me, I see no infant with you, did you sample it out to people who wanted to know what it's like to have a child? Drinks, soups, sauces, sloppy foods. They don't mind, just put it all in a little 2 oz. cup for them.

- The Bad Tipper: 'nuff said.

- The Never Ending Order (read to the tune of the theme song to the Never Ending Story): There are two kinds of these sadists. The first kind naturally rambles on and on, listing everything on the whole freakin' menu, takes a breath and then orders more food. Of course they have to punctuate it with "It's not all for me." You're darn right it's not all for you. You just bought the whole restaurant and half of the one next door. This is enough food to feed a small nation, and you think I need to be told it's not all for you? The second kind tells you that that's all they want, then suddenly decide they want one of the most time consuming things available and in the time it takes you to fulfill their last wish, then decide they want even more stuff, and thus order it whether or not you're ready to wrap stuff up for them.

- The Impossible Accent: No matter how hard you try, no matter how hard they try, neither of you can make what they just said into a comprehensible order. Mother Nature must've never intended for international travel and trade to be a reality, because impossible accents seem to be her defense. And it works. But here's a little bit of a guide for you. Chugah = sugar. Cheetah = cheddar. Gahlik = garlic. Petchal = pretzel.

- The Scrooge: Ok, you're obviously aware of the prices, otherwise you wouldn't be here. In case you were unaware, no one is holding a knife to your throat, forcing you to buy that dessert, you're doing it of your own free will. So stop complaining about the prices, it won't make me discount it.


- The *****: the creepy guy, often middle aged, that goes beyond being nice to you and winks and maybe even touches your arm. usually asks what your favorite item on the menu is. you don't really pin them for what they are at first, but their demeanor really grows on you til you feel really itchy and uncomfortable. (Compliments of Sarah Omar).

- The Vulture: These jokers only show up on holidays and when it's time to close. They want only one thing: as much free food as they can carry, and they'll ask you until you give it to them. And just like real vultures, they circle their prey before swooping in. If you see the same person go past your store, eyes peeled, several times a day, beware, for the vulture cometh. Coincidentally, these are the same people who come to your store several times in the course of a few hours asking for samples.

- Small Children: If you don't stop screaming, and if you don't get your dirty ~insert body part here~ off of my ~insert recently cleaned object~, then I will strangle you while your ~insert offensive adjective of choice~ mother watches on in horrified fascination.

- The Blind Mice: No matter how obvious you try to make it, no matter how customer friendly the signs are, no matter how many times you tell them, these optically challenged patrons still ask questions who's answers are blatantly displayed right in front of them. Straws? Right in front of you? Prices, right in front of you. Do we sell ice cream? This is a salted nuts vendor! Do we sell drinks? No, that giant soda fountain is a paper mâché model!

- Mumbles: "CanIgeta mmmhmphmmm with mmmpmmhmmm? And could youadd mmhmmm? And a small mmmghmmmhmm"

- The Plague: I don't know why your parents never taught you proper hygiene, but you simply standing in this lobby is negating our health code certification, not to mention making my skin crawl. Please, go brush your teeth, freshen your breath, wash your hands and put on some clean clothes, then you can come back to place an order. You just might qualify as one of the Horsemen.

- The Picky One: Nothing's good enough for you, is it? The salt has to be low-fat. The sugar had to be Splenda. The meat has to be PETA approved. You HAVE to have Coke, Pepsi will not do! And God forbid your child dislike the cheese!!!

- The Great Destroyer: This harbinger of wasted effort always comes at least once a week. You're about to close for the night, everything is neatly put away and meticulously cleaned, but here comes the fifth horseman. And they place an order which cosmic law dictates will undo as much of your closing work as physically possible, requiring you to do it all over again. Every restaurant worker knows that when you see this one coming, a part of your soul dies quietly and painfully in a corner.