So the hostess is dropping another table on me, so much for me asking for a minute after getting triple sat...
I head over to the table and quickly turn around.
It's Jenny, one of my friends dated her a few years back and her rudeness is near legendary.
I take a deep breath, turn around, and hope she doesn't know who I am.
Damn, her joiner is her mom, makes ole Jenny here look like Mother Teresa.
Upon filling their waters I ask,"Ladies how are we doing today?"
And the answer to that question is...
"Ya, we want two iced teas."
Very well, didn't know that was the proper response but at least she barely had a hint of recognition in her expression.
I hate waiting on people I know.
I really hate waiting on people I don't like.
They are chattering to themselves as I drop off their drinks.
"Ladies would you like to hear about our specials?"
Well considering they keep talking I guess not.
I turn heel, I have other things to do.
I run and hit up my three other tables for their lunch order, as I head back to the kitchen with hands full from finished diners I'm stopped short.
Jenny's mom is waving.
"We're ready to order, we're in a hurry!"
Well I'm in a hurry to get to the dish room before I drop five plates,"I'll be right back with you, ok?"
"But, we're in a hurry!"
I walk off.
Stop in the kitchen, drop off my plates, and calmly and slowly grab a drink of my coffee.
I return to my new friends.
"Ma'am what would you like today?"
Coldly she starts with,"Well don't you have any specials?"
First off they said they were ready, that implies they are decided.
Secondly they were to busy being self important for them to hear me out when I offered.
Nonetheless I recap the specials of the day.
The order, chicken ceasers.
I start to head to the POS station.
"Sir! Sir!" the woman cries out.
"Don't you have some of that bread?"
Goddamn, why is it always that bread.
"I want some of that bread you serve at night.
"Ma'am we only do bread service at dinner, a piece comes with your salads."
Of course her rational is,"Well they did it for us last time."
Of course they did.
Back in the kitchen I load a bowl of bread up from the small amount we do carry at lunch.
"What are you doing?" the chef cries with alarm,"that's the only bread we have!"
"Fine, you go tell her no, she's quite the lovely lady!" I retort.
He dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
Now I've pissed off the kitchen, I'm sure my food will be out in a real timely manner for the rest of the day.
So I drop off their bread and oil...
"I want butter!"
Back in the kitchen I see we're out of butter packets.
I start to chisel off chips from the sticks the kitchen uses for cooking.
I hear my name being called from the line.
My orders are piling up from the other tables I'm waiting on, getting cold and I'm back here with a freakin steak knife trying to cut perfect little squares.
I grab a bullet and jam as much butter as I can into it.
By the time I get it out to the table there is one piece of bread left.
They used the oil.
"I want more bread!"
I see my food being dropped of my an irate looking manager.
"Also sir, we're in a hurry, do you know when our food is coming?"
Well only if I had more time.
I've got other shit to do.
I'm sat again, I've got food to run, I notice my six top is out of tea as well.
Fuck, weeded again, all for this prima donna and that bread.
A few minutes pass, their food is dropped and such, still crazy.
I'm rolling by with another armfull of plates...
I notice that ole Miss Jenny from the Block has become Mrs. Jenny Goldigger from the size of the rock on her finger.
Good for her, I remember when she was the town bicycle...
The one everybody gets to ride.
Maybe she married for love, but somehow I think her mom trained her a little differently than that.
However, these thoughts are interrupted by,"Sir, I want my bill, I'm in a hurry!"
Ya, I haven't noticed, perhaps a new botox injection is in order for the afternoon, judging by appearances anyways.
"Sure thing Ma'am."
She then starts to shove her half finished salad toward me.
Remember, I have full hands here.
Really, if I wanted your plate I'd just take it, patience!
I give her a helpless look.
She sits there for a second with her plate held out to me.
Then she snorts and puts it back in front.
I return with the check.
I give her the bill and pick up their salad plates.
"Ma'am I'll be right back to pick that up."
She scrutinizes the bill, "Here, I don't have time for this."
She gives me a look of scorn and tosses a twenty in the folder, then thrusts it at me, my arms are full once again.
That's why I said I'd be right back.
I juggle around and reposition myself.
"I'll be right back with your change Ma'am."
Just keep it, I've got to go.
She just gave me a $1.11 to my face.
I take the plates back and throw a dollar and a quarter in their bill book.
They're still chatting again, some hurry.
I walk over to the table and set the change down.
What I really want to say is, "Here, keep it, you need it more than I do."
For a brief second the words are on the tip of my tongue.
Thoughts of what will I do if I'm fired flood my mind.
College, bills, food and gas, what would I do?
I don't have financial aid, or time to look for a new job.
I've seen two servers do this before, and both were 86'd.
I bite down and walk away.
"Sir I said you can keep it!"
I keep going, that's what I do best.