AITA for crop dusting a table that made our server cry?

AITA for crop dusting a table that made our server cry? It was my friend’s birthday, and a group of us decided to celebrate by taking him to his favorite restaurant. Upon arriving with our party of eight, we were seated close to a smaller table occupied by a group of loud, rowdy guys who perfectly fit the “dude bro” stereotype. It quickly became clear that they were going to be a problem. Their noise and obnoxious behavior were directed at their server, who was struggling to keep up.

Our server, who was also dealing with the difficult table, came over looking stressed and apologized for the delay, mentioning she had a lot on her plate. We reassured her that it was fine and placed our drink orders, giving her some space to manage the situation.

A few minutes later, the shouting from the rowdy table started. One of the guys wanted an alcoholic drink but didn’t have his ID. Despite the server’s best efforts to stay calm, she told him she couldn’t accept a screenshot of his ID. When his friend tried to buy the drink for him, the server explained that it was illegal and could put her job at risk. This only made the group angrier, and the argument escalated.

Overwhelmed, the server went to get her manager, tears in her eyes. My friend was ready to confront the group, but his girlfriend stopped him. Instead, our friend Jack came up with a different plan.

Jack said, “I have to fart.” I immediately caught on and replied, “So do I.” Jack then suggested, “Should we crop dust their table?” I agreed, “I think that’s a great idea.”

The restaurant’s layout meant we had to pass by the rude table to get to the bathroom, and we could choose to walk either side of their table. Jack went first and headed toward the bathroom. As soon as he rounded the corner, the effects of our plan began to take hold. At first, the guys laughed it off, blaming each other for the smell. But as the odor lingered, their amusement turned into irritation.

I followed soon after, walking past the opposite side of their table. When I joined Jack in the bathroom, we could hear the chaos escalating. The group was no longer finding it funny and was loudly arguing among themselves.

The situation reached its peak when the manager arrived. He told the group they were being too disruptive and needed to calm down or leave. They complained about their server, but the manager was firm, explaining that due to the earlier incident, they couldn’t be served any alcohol because it couldn’t be confirmed who was drinking it.

The group was livid but had no choice but to stay. They were given a new server, a burly man with an intimidating presence. The rest of their visit was spent in embarrassed silence, heads down, clearly deflated by the turn of events.

AITA for crop dusting a table that made our server cry?

AITA for crop dusting a table that made our server cry?

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For my friend’s birthday, our group of eight decided to celebrate at his favorite restaurant.

We were seated near a table of loud, obnoxious guys who fit the classic “dude bro” stereotype. It was immediately apparent they were trouble, as they were giving their server a hard time with their rude behavior.

The server, clearly stressed and juggling our table along with theirs, came over to apologize for the wait. She mentioned she had a lot on her plate, and we reassured her it was fine while placing our drink orders.

Not long after, the commotion from the rude table intensified. One of the guys wanted an alcoholic drink but didn’t have his ID. The server tried to stay calm but told him she couldn’t accept a screenshot. His friend offered to buy the drink for him, but the server explained that would be illegal and could get her in serious trouble. This only escalated the situation, and the group became more irate.

Overwhelmed, the server went to fetch her manager, visibly upset. My friend wanted to confront the group, but his girlfriend stopped him. Instead, our friend Jack came up with a different idea.

Jack announced, “I need to fart.” I quickly joined in, “Me too.” With a mischievous grin, Jack suggested, “Shall we crop dust them?” I agreed, “Absolutely.”

The restaurant layout required us to walk past the rude table to get to the bathroom. Jack went first, and as soon as he rounded the corner, the effects of our plan began to take hold. At first, the guys found it funny, blaming one another for the odor. But as the smell lingered, their amusement turned into frustration.

I followed shortly after, walking past the other side of their table. As soon as I turned the corner and joined Jack in the bathroom, we could hear the chaos intensify. The group was no longer laughing and was arguing loudly.

The situation came to a head when the manager arrived. He told the table they were being too disruptive and needed to calm down or leave. Although they complained about their server, the manager was firm, explaining that due to the earlier incident, they could not be served alcohol at all since it was unclear who would be drinking it.

The group was livid but had no choice but to stay. They were assigned a new server, an imposing man who made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense. The rowdy group spent the rest of their visit subdued and embarrassed, clearly deflated by the turn of events.

Let’s swiftly assess a handful of the top comments: AITA for crop dusting a table that made our server cry?

whatlineisitanyway Writes:

I’ve had both. Although maybe the best moment I ever had as a server was when a manager that didn’t have our backs got told off by the CEO of a company that has spent into the five figures with us that night because the manager was rude to me for making sure his table had a great time. Bonus points the manager was the incompetent brother of the restaurant’s owner.

Batavian1 Writes:

Same: at our student run restaurant all the servers were students and kitchen (dirty) and waiting roles were pretty much divided along male and female students respectively. Europe here, so even if it was student-run, nobody was dependent on tips and getting paid living wages.

Some weirdos would visit the restaurant specifically to talk to and annoy the female waiters: whenever that happened, they would check in with us in the kitchen and we would switch roles for that table.

One particular creep felt he could keep sending food back and when giving his plate to her, feel the waitress’ hand and leg every time. So when she came and told us that his apple pie and vanilla ice cream was ‘too cold’, we microwaved it for 5 minutes at maximum power and brought it out with three burly guys from our judo group.

The plate had turned into something resembling bubbling soup and we served it to him with a large spoon. Kept standing around him until he ate the whole thing. He got the message, blew on every spoon and complimented us before settling, paying a small tip and never returning. You have to have each other’s back.

grandmabrouhaha Writes:

I worked at the banquet centre in the 90’s while in college, then as an extra job to pay my student loans. We got $10/hour under the table which was great as minimum wage was under $7 and waitress wage was about $3.25.

We rarely received tips – it wasn’t a fancy enough hall for the couple or their parents to think of tipping the staff. Unless they did and the boss didn’t pass it on.

I said manager in my comment but he was the owner as well. The hall was busy but not in the best part of the city and was definitely mid-tier. He didn’t want to upset anybody’s wedding by kicking someone out. Or make a potential client in the crowd feel like it’s a trashy place.

My friend and I were about 20 when we started working at the location when it was run by a larger company. They had more male staff that would cover bad tables. It was one of their restaurants that I worked at one summer from the first part of my comment.

I was about 24 when the particular incidents I was referring to in the second part occurred.

Haber_Dasher Writes:

The second thing infuriates me. I’m the waiter,I work for tips, I’m practically professionally non-confrontational, my livelihood depends on people liking me. You’re the guy in a suit on salary who has the final say, you go tell the customer the news they don’t want to hear (unless it’s something that was my mistake).

grandmabrouhaha Writes:

I worked a place where the manager would not have switched servers. We would all help someone being harassed like this, just to minimize their contact.

And worked another place (banquet centre) where the manager didn’t like confronting difficult guests, because they were guests.

If there was a rude or inappropriate guest at a table my friend or I would be switched to it. We’d worked in customer service/serving jobs long enough to politely but firmly stand up to a-holes.

AITA for crop dusting a table that made our server cry?

Let’s swiftly assess a handful of the top comments: AITA for crop dusting a table that made our server cry?

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