The Insane Waiter

Running wild on customers, chefs, owners and managers since 1997. I bring to you, The Insane Waiter. What do bring to your table? A crisp bottle of San Pellegrino ? Perhaps a lovely seared Sashimi Tuna? Start off with a wonderful bottle from Tuscany perhaps? Why I'll be more than happy to bring you your White Zinfandel and Chicken Caesar. No you can't order the mac and cheese off the kids menu and sorry no, we don't serve cheese sticks....

Sunday, March 12, 2006

95 and Rising

Struggling with the large double doors and a tray full of white wine I made my way outside...

It's the middle of August and approaching the high 90's.

A table full of suburbanite housewives decided it would be a great idea to move from my section to the patio.

Not such a great idea for me.

My crisp white uniform is starting to wrinkle and soak through in the blistering heat, the fact shirt can't breath through isn't helping matters.

Back to the ladies, they're wearing dainty white summer dresses and sun hats with shades on.

More than one of them has a large diamond ring on their fourth finger.

Excessively large rings.

Rich ladies, and not the type that have earned a cent or done any work for it, its 2:30 on a Tuesday, and they're not in power suits.

You know the type I'm talking about here.

The sweat gets in my eyes and I nearly drop the tray as I feel the sharp, salty sting.

I manage.

I always manage, if only just.

I start delivering their wine glasses to the table when one of them comments...

"I just love your little uniforms, they're so classy."

The others nod in agreement.

"It would look some much better and professional if only you buttoned the top button and tightened your tie."

She looks over at the other waiter as he takes an order, "I've noticed he doesn't have his tie up all the way either, why?"

"Ma'am, its ninety five degrees out." I state.

"And?" She asked.

I'm dressed for winter weather, long sleeve shirt and tie, black slacks and full lenght bistro apron, no polo shirts and Bermuda shorts like they probably wear down at Glen Oaks or whatever country club she's used to.

"It's ninety five out, do you really want me sweating in your food?"

Her friends snicker and the logic of my appearance dawns on her.

"Well you have a point." She said.

I smile and walk off.

I think about the weather, others have it worse, I've had it worse.

I remember digging stones and boulders out of cornfields in the July heat so the combines would not hit them and break...

My old roommates coming home caked with tar and sweat after a hard days work.

The guys working down the street on a new office building, dark with the burn of summer.

The lady fiddles with her ring and wipes a small glimmer of perspiration from her brow.

There's an old saying, you'll make more with your mind, not your hands.

I think about the tuition check I just sent in, first time I'll see a classroom in almost five years.

The mind, that's the way to go.

She used hers.

And married up.

Me?

I'll manage.

8 Comments:

At 4:20 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

I wait on these rich-bitch blonde-streaked hair'd on the virge of pre-menopause females all the time. They have no concept of reality! They are cartoons and don't even realize it.

 
At 2:47 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

you'll manage very nicely. a brain is only as good as its grounding. you've seen the belly of the human beast; time now for you to rise to the top. those born up there on cloud nine are less fortunate. barely managing not to be bored by life.

good luck in school. what are you taking?

 
At 3:56 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

My dear Nephew Dude:

Your mother's side of the family has always managed. Always. It's in your blood.

Love,

Uncle R.

 
At 8:46 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ah...Iowa summers. I remember the summer I detassled corn, it was long hot work and minimum wage. But I made friends and learned a little something about hard work.

Last summer I started looking into classes at DMACC. I'm married and have a lil boy (I'm 24 years old) but I wanted to go back to school. In August I started getting sick. In September I was diagnosed with cancer.

Last week was my last round of chemotherapy. (bald, 24 year old girls are VERY attractive!) Maybe this summer will be a little more productive and I'll get back on track with school. It would be easy to resent the kind of women in your post but in the long run, my life experiences (both good and bad) will make me a better person.

Good luck to you with school and rising above these kinds of people by using your brains and talent. Keep up the posting!

 
At 11:52 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

wow. evidently it is better to be curious than furious.

good motto that. when something gets your nickers in a twist -- ie. demanding upper crust types -- decide to be curious about why they are the way they are rather than furious that they are that way. because, in the end, you can't change other people's behaviours. if you want to change the impact of their behaviours, you can only modify your own response. curious not furious. makes life's little disasters easier to take.

 
At 3:37 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Didn't you already post this story? It sounds reeeeallllllly familiar...

 
At 12:32 AM , Blogger Unknown said...

Ok, so I'm a new fan of your blog. This literally made me tear up it is so my life. I just went back to school after a 6 year absence, and trudging from kitchen to table to bar dealing with people like this...

 
At 12:09 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dude,

I am so sorry you have to put up with this bull****. I wonder how anybody can be human and treat others like that. Good luck with school.

 

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