Some people suck at life.

I'm at the restaurant. It's very busy, I'm all by myself, and the other waitress isn't due for half an hour. I get a deuce of a man and his mother.
These people have a LOT of questions. They want recommendations for everything, which? Dudes, I'm running around like crazy, I have about 12 tables, ranging from two sixes to a few fours to lots of twos. Most restaurants give a server a three table section, five at the MOST. Most servers have twelve tables TOTAL on a good evening. And I have twelve at the same time. That borders on ridiculousness.
I slosh wine into a glass--cabernet for him, white zin for the mom--chuck it on the table and run back for some hot food. They are still deciding on their meal but put in an appetizer, the spinach and prosciutto.
Now, I honestly don't really understand our spinach and pros appetizer. It's basically a heap of sauteed spinach with prosciutto surrounding it. People seem to like it. This man does not.
That is not our first problem, however. He calls me over to complain about his wine. Okay, fine. I recall that I poured him the end of a bottle, so I grab the glass, say I'll open a new bottle, run to get that, bring it back, and he says, "Well, you acted like you were expecting that. And I didn't want more. You were too fast."
Uh, no. I wasn't expecting it. But I'm willing to fix any mistake as quickly as I can. SO sorry.
"Sorry," I say. "I just want to get people things as soon as possible."
"Well maybe you should bring the proper thing the first time."
Grrrr. Look--wine goes bad. It might have accidentally been left open last night. I have no idea, but I got you a brand new glass from a brand new bottle. That should remedy the situation, no?
I bring the appetizer. Now, this appetizer is fairly straight-forward. Hot spinach, cold prosciutto, maybe involve some bread or eat it plain?
This man is thoroughly confused by this. "Um, excuse me," he says to Katie, the phone person who is also busting her ass to help me with my tables. She stops and he grills her on how exactly to eat the food.
"Uh, you just, um, eat it?" she says.
"But part of it is hot and part is cold. That doesn't make sense."
What doesn't make sense is how someone can't figure out to put some spinach and prosciutto on a fucking fork and insert that into his mouth.
Katie walks over to me. "Dude, what is UP with that guy? He wants to talk to you. He doesn't understand how to eat his appetizer."
By this time the other waitress has arrived. He decides to call her over to answer the OH-SO-CONFUSING question of how to eat an appetizer that involves two different temperatures.
And then he winks at her and tells her she deserves a good spanking.
IN FRONT OF HIS MOTHER.
Jen laughs nervously and runs away. When he touches my ass the next time I go over--in which he complains about his meals, saying it's the worst thing they've ever tasted--I tell him to leave.
And then he gets crazy. Well, more than before. He starts yelling at customers, telling them the food is awful, don't eat here, and then goes on the patio and harasses the two men eating out there. He doesn't pay for what I charged him for (I voided the entrees, but charged him for the "confusing" app and the wine).
I then have to go through the whole headache of getting things voided and threat of having to pay for stuff because of my irresponsibility. Um, what? I made the best business decision by kicking the guy out.
Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate.