I can't even convey this as horribly as it went.

Last night I had the most horrible bitch customer from hell that I've ever dealt with.

She was half of a couple who looked rough around the edges. They gave me a bitch of a time ordering drinks; the woman ordered for the husband and snapped at me when I asked him something about it (sidenote: he later told me that he did not want that drink at all and ordered something else). I realized that the bartender was busy and not at all concerned with making my drinks in any kind of rush. I brought them waters and apologized for the wait in regards to their actual drinks. The lady was not pleased. In fact, she seemed downright exasperated. It had been all of about three minutes. She was already visibly frustrated and said, "well I'm very hungry and I want a drink!" I said I could take their dinner order if they were ready.

Neither of them brought their glasses, so they made no effort to read their menus.

Horrible bitch from hell: I want steak.
Me: There are at least five steak dinners on our menu.. and three dinner specials with steak.. do you know which one you'd like?
Horrible bitch from hell: I want steak.
Me: Okay well we have.. (at this point I literally started reading her the different steaks from her menu)
Horrible bitch from hell: Fine, I'll take (first one I said). I always get that.
(blahblahblah how do you want it cooked? soup or salad? etc)
Husband: What's the biggest steak you have?
Me: Well it's by weight-(interrupted)
Horrible bitch from hell: (interrupting) I (remember, this steak isn't even for her) don't care about the weight! Which is the biggest?!
Me: The steaks are measured out by weight, I'm not sure which is the largest but I can go ask the kitchen.
Horrible bitch from hell: (yelling, indignant) ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! You don't know the menu?!
Me: I know the menu very well, I just don't know the exact weight of each of our steaks.

She also wanted bread, "with real butter." I brought their salads and bread and within a few minutes, she had given the bread to a busser because she wanted "fresher bread."

Things did not get better with them as the night went on. They gave me a $4 tip on a $55 check. Once they left, however, the gentlemen (regulars at my bar) at the next table asked me what had happened. They had overheard her yelling at me. These are two very quiet and polite guys and one of them, after listening to my recount, said, "excuse my language but that's when I would tell her to go fuck herself."