Don't Walk Away (Xanadu)

Tonight, I did what I've never done. I walked out on a waitress. So I was sitting in a diner with a friend after a movie. The service was as good as can be expected in a semi-trashy diner on College St. When the waitress came over to pick up our plates she asked if we needed anything else and my friend said no, just the bill, and pointed out a table that was trying to get her attention. She took a look at them and said "They can wait." She left, brought us back our bill, and didn't go to that table. She eventually did, I suppose, and they asked for a water, which, for as long as I sat there, they never received. Nor did we see her again. Despite the fact that my debit card was sitting on the little tray, she walked by us a few times and did nothing. More time passed and we were getting frustrated. My friend said "Well, I'm leaving," and stood up, putting on her coat, ready to leave me there waiting to pay. I had waited long enough. "Me too," I announced. I put my coat on. She asked if I was really going to dine and dash (we were both servers at the same restaurant and knew that walking out on your server is an evil deed), and I replied that if she wants my money she should come take it, and since she never came for it, she doesn't get it. So we left. We didn't run, we didn't look back. We were casual, normal people leaving of a restaurant. I wasn't afraid. Our waitress was an old dame. A foreigner, even. I didn't feel bad. The woman had bitch in her and gave bad service. Done. I could feel her presence behind me so I turned around and she was running after us. Now I felt a little bad. She ran out in her little t-shirt in the freezing cold. For a bill of less than $20. She said that if we walk out she has to pay for our bill. I walked back with her and explained that I'll gladly pay, but that I wasn't about to sit and wait for forty-five minute to do so. She apologized and said that she was having a hard time with a table that was complaining about their food and their drinks. I said, "That's fine, I'm a server too, but I always go back to my tables." I was very sweet to her despite having just given her a heart attack. She said "Do you want me to pay the bill." And I said no, I had no problem paying. So I paid and I even tipped. She's lucky. If I had waiting inside for that long and paid without walking out first, she wouldn't have received a tip. So I guess I did a good deed. I don't feel like an asshole about it, but I do feel very sorry for her. I wonder if she's always that shitty at her job, and if so, I wonder if she's good at anything. That thought depresses me. I'd rather not think about it. I'm not sure why I blogged about it.