You have his credit card number. Easy to get an address from there.

Find out if he has family. If so:

Wait until a holiday. Drive by to see if there are many people at his house. Is so, call an escort service, and order three trannies. Tell the service that it's a hardcore swingers party.

Wait outside in your car to watch the fireworks.

This also works at his place of employment.

Or, pee in his warm beer. He'll never know.

In a perfect world of course, you could've told him to take his hat and shit in it.

That's the worst part of the service economy life, that even the most obnoxious idiotic ungrateful client seems to be worth more to the company than the most loyal, industrious employee.

Whether or not your manager told the asshole to go fuck himself of merely mollified the prick somehow makes no difference you ask me. The fact that you found yourself cleaning this dingleberry's cap, says that modern societies bred a workforce afraid to offend in the slightest, and people whether out of meanness like this guy or just pure stupidity, laziness or narcissism like others will take advantage of that fact and make your life difficult.

*ahem*

Sorry, I've been there, people like that piss me the fuck off.

Somewhere in the restaurant, maybe in teeny-tiny print on the bottom of a menu or posted somewhere near the door, there should be the words "We reserve the right to refuse service to any customer." If nobody in management has the balls to tell Mister Personality he's no longer welcome, what's the worst that could happen if you personally refuse to serve him again?

Did'ja manage to get his name off the credit card slip? I wonder if his phone number is listed locally, and if he'd enjoy a visit from the Mormons, or maybe a mailbox full of gay porn?