The Waitress Who Tamed Barflies With Dog Corrections and Belly Rubs

The Haven interrupts its normal publishing to report the death of the waitress who came up with the idea to make barflies behave by applying dog training corrections.

Mrs. Kristina Gustina Forberg was a career server on the Leelanau, a sparsely-populated peninsula in Michigan’s Up North, known for cherry orchards, natural beauty, and the highest scenic overlooks on Lake Michigan. She was an “old school” waitress. Her standard uniform was a knee-length, puffed sleeve, shirtwaist dress of cadet blue, banana yellow, bubblegum pink, or mint green. A white four-way apron was tied ‘round her waist. White ankle socks were on her feet. Arch supports were in her shoes to minimize foot pains and varicose veins. And she sported Keds® with treads to keep her footing on floors slicked with spilt milk, soup, coffee, and ketchup.

Like every successful diner waitress, she was a master at customer relations. She chatted up the gals, joshed with the guys, touched their forearms and shoulders, and called everyone “Honey.”

That said, relations were easy in the greasy spoons where Mrs. Forberg spent her first twenty years. Customers were reasonable. Slip-ups were easily smoothed over: apologies were accepted; and amends were made with free Cokes® and desserts.

Then Mrs. Forberg switched to bars, and found the customers coarser. They interrupted her introductions to order drinks. Grabbed plates off her carefully-balanced tray. Hollered “C’mere, girl” to get her attention. Complained about the food — after finishing it, of course. Shorted the tip when they used a coupon. And when proclaiming themselves wronged, took shameless advantage of her appeasement gestures.

Mrs. Forberg realized a different Customer Relationship Management approach was called for. And given the clientele, the obvious one came to mind: dog training methods.

Not all of them, of course. She saw no need for classical, operant, and counter conditioning. Nor positive, negative, and neutral reinforcing. That left the one thing barflies would respond to: prompt, unambiguous, and forceful “corrections.”

In the beginning, she kept them simple. If a customer:

• Interrupted her self-introduction by barking a beverage order, she swatted them across the snout with a rolled up menu;
• Lunged at her to take their plate off her tray, she sprayed them in the face with bitter apple;
• Two-finger whistled from across the room to get her attention, she strode up to point blank range, pulled out an air horn, and blasted them out of their chair; and
• Refused to restrain their obnoxious kids, she sprayed citronella in the parents’ faces.

Mrs. Forberg quickly found that obsolete dog training methods worked best — specifically, those which used discomfort to encourage good behavior. For example, if a customer snapped their fingers to get Mrs. Forberg’s attention, she applied a correction to those fingers with a meat tenderizing mallet. If they tried to send back the lime shrimp on account of a food allergy they’d failed to mention, she shoved their nose down into it: if they went into shock, she took the dish off the bill; if not, they were as just another customer who didn’t like cilantro.

Usually, however, just threatening a correction caused behaviors to improve. If a customer ate a whole meal, then declared it crappy and demanded it be taken off the bill, Mrs. Forberg got them to withdraw their request by agreeing, but only if she got them to return the food back by kneeing them in the stomach. If they started to render a half-tip because they were paying with a half-off coupon, they reconsidered when she started to caramelize the coupon in their hand with a crème brûlée blow torch. And if a smart-aleck guy asked her to drape a napkin across his lap, like waitresses did in fancy restaurants, she assured him that, if she draped something else, she’d saw it off with a bread knife.

Today, waitresses throughout the Leelanau use corrections to manage customer behaviors.

Naturally, they’ve made changes. They apply corrections to more kinds of behaviors: to customers who arrive within a half hour of closing yet expect to be served; engage in tiresome debates as to who’ll pay the bill; and leave religious literature in lieu of a tip. And they’ve dispensed with a few of Mrs. Forberg’s favorites; the ones which, if not applied just right, could land a waitress in jail on a manslaughter charge.

Beyond that, they follow Mrs. Forberg’s original program. Including that essential last step servers are apt to forget: when barflies get it, and behave as they should, the waitress should promptly reward them with belly rubs and praise.