Zombies at Summer Time

Zombies don't come out after dark. They come out after May. I'm a server at a restaurant in a town whose streets vibrate with the smack of flip flops during the summer months, and crinkles with only the sounds of seagulls nibbling stray crumbs out of fishermen's beards.What I'm trying to say here is that this place is filled with tourists in the summer, and then the population count goes down a couple thousand once it's over. Having to deal with these hordes on a daily basis is interesting to say the least.
People say the way someone treats their server says a lot about them, and if that's true, I should have warned some customers that their dining partner might have been a questionable choice.
Let me set the scene. Usually, as I drag tables across the patio to their appropriate positions and scoot the chairs that will support those plump rears all day up to them, a fair number of "up-and-at-'em" types walk by. These almost always include a family, walking four across, dressed in their whites with tennis rackets strapped jauntily over their shoulders, sauntering down the street like some cheerful army, ready to drown me in iced tea or unleash their five year old to knock me out with her back-swing as her mom redoes her french braid.

Don't be fooled: these people are zombies that suck out your soul and leave you with a 2 dollar tip on a 50 dollar meal. But I'm sounding cynical. Some people are beyond kind and overly generous; the mean ones are just more fun to gripe about.