My mortal enemy

I have a mortal enemy. An archnemesis, if you will. Like I'm Sherlock Holmes, and he's Moriarty - but it's not a question of intellect. Like I'm Luke Skywalker, and he's Darth Vader - but without the whole paternity problem. Like I'm Optimus Prime, and he's Megatron - but a lot less geeky.

My archnemesis is the waiter down at the local Indian restaurant. The food is great, the decor is disturbingly pink (but bearable), the service staff is generally ok, but my waiter is the devil incarnate, and it's really starting to bug me.

For example, I was having dinner with two friends last night, and one of my friends and I decide to order the 2 Singha (Thai beer). Archnemesis comes back with two bottles, and proceeds to pour one bottle into my glass, and then empties the remainder of the bottle into my friends glass... and then pours the 2nd bottle into his glass to fill it up, and then leave the single beer bottle, half full, on the table in between us as though to say "You wanna drink the rest of it? You're gonna have to fight for it, fellas".

What the hell is that??? I was stunned. Gobsmacked. It was like the whole thing was happening in slow motion, and so many things to say were running through my head that I could decide which one would be best, and by the time I had settled on one - "What the #$#% do you think you're doing, dickhead!!" - the guy had gone.

Never in my life have I been witness to such a spectacular display of stupidity... until I had to go and pay for the bill. It came to 9,200 yen, and so we handed over 10,000 yen, expecting to get some change. He counted the notes and looked at me like I was a dithering idiot, and said "You're 2000 yen short"... I counted the notes, and unless the high school maths curriculum in Australia had incorrectly led me to believe that 10x1000 yen notes equaled something other than 10,000 yen, we had, in fact, handed over more than enough money to pay for the bill. Having counted it, I handed it back to him with my confused frowning face and slight smile, as if to say "No you imbecile! I'm not 2000 yen short, count it again, and kindly kiss my arse." Sure enough, Australian high school maths won out. He smiled back apologetically, handed back a 1000 yen note and said "Sorry sir, you were right. Now all you need to do is give me 200 yen."

What!?! "You need to pay 200 yen," he said again, pointing at the register display. I'm sure I probably had 200 yen in my wallet (2x100 yen coins), but having long since lost my patience with my archnemesis, I put the 1000 yen note back on the counter and said "No, you need to give me 800 yen change."

"Oh yes. I forgot about that note..." and laughed.

He does something to bug me everytime I go. There will be a reckoning one day. I can clearly see me shoving the nam fairly down his throat in the not too distant future.