Just wanted to send a little happy birthday note to my friend Dale.
I don't know Dale very well. In fact, we just met tonight.
She was an older woman, somewhere in her sixties. They were a party of three, though one of them was late.
Can I bring you some water while you wait for your other friend?
We have someone meeting us.
A lovely woman, that Dale. Did I mention that it was her birthday?
She dined with two of her (old-)lady friends. They got sassy, opting for Pear Sidecars instead of Cosmos. Despite their seemingly impenetrable personalities, I wanted to like them just on account of their creative drink order.
Dinner went off without a hitch. They didn't require much attention. I knew that they weren't into having any sort of close contact with their lowly server, so I held back and attended to them silently, only when needed.
Knowing that it was Dale's birthday, I brought dessert menus over to them after their entrees were cleared. They didn't seem like the types of ladies who would order dessert but birthdays were special, so who knows.
I brought you some dessert menus.
What?
Huh?
I brought you some dessert menus...
I thought you said ONIONS.
Onions? What?
Seeing their dessert menus stacked up in a neat little pile off to the side of the table, I thought that I was in the clear. A quick dismissal of the menus usually results in a rejection of dessert, a prompt drop of the check, and an insincere thanks-so-much.
So, did you see anything you'd like to try for dessert?
No dessert but a whole bunch of decaf.
No onions?
They liked that one. They laughed.
Make sure mine's decaf.
No way, I'm giving you regular!
Well, you know, some restaurants give you regular when they run out of decaf.
Oh, I would never do that to you!
I tried to win them over with whatever charm I could muster up which wasn't really very much. I had to rely more on cheap parlor tricks, like melting a wax candle to birthday Dale's coffee cup, since she didn't order any dessert. As a server I feel it's my responsibility to make sure you get to blow out a candle on your birthday, but your lack of a dessert order makes it tricky sometimes.
They thought that it was a cute gag and I kinda thought I had them.
After they paid, they sat for two hours before finally getting up. I was surprised to see Dale approach one of the waitresses, angry.
I listened as Dale launched into a tirade about how she was so upset that the restaurant didn't send her a complimentary birthday dessert. I folded napkins and listened to this, laughing to myself. She argued that it was bad business for a restaurant to refrain from practices like giving away free product.
As she repeated the story to my general manager, I lit the candle on a complimentary cookie plate for table 33. Dale eyed the cookies and even mentioned them as I walked away, smiling. It was literally the first time I had given away a dessert at this particular restaurant and the timing couldn't have been any better. Seriously, lady in your sixties, you're mad because you didn't get a free scoop of vanilla ice cream on your birthday? I would argue that she was mad that her two friends split the bill three ways with her. If I were her I'd be a lot more upset about the Scallops and Sidecar than the scoop of vanilla.
So, wherever you are, happy birthday, Dale! Thanks for the laughs and good times, hopefully we can do it again sometime.
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This is awesome Anthony! I love your writing man, keep it up, it provides great comic relief.
ReplyDeleteHope she tipped more than 10 percent. I like reading your blog, man. Keep it up!
ReplyDeleteahaha your blog makes me simultaneously miss the everyday trivialities of waiting tables, and at the same time wonder why it is I'm trying to find a new serving position in the city (my last restaurant fucked me over in January and I've been doing odd secretarial work for my uncle and his neurotic tendencies in regards to work are kind of driving me out the door).
ReplyDeleteold people with failing hearing never failed to amuse and yet appall me. I worked at Charley's Saloon at the Chestnut Hill Mall when I was 19, which is conveniently right next to a rather upscale retirement home. I can't tell you how many senior couples demanded strange and specific comps off their check (like this one couple who were regulars and it was COMMON KNOWLEDGE that they each were provided a COMPLIMENTARY BAKED POTATO that was to be brought to them at the same time as their waters, or another couple who refused to pay their bill because I didn't know my restaurant had been handing them out free side salads every meal they took there). but my favorite part about waiting primarily on older people was that nearly every... every, EVERY day, I would introduce myself (as was restaurant protocol, for that personal touch) as Jess and I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES they would squint at me and go, "Jeff? Did you say your name was Jeff?" it became a common joke among my friends and even a nickname, but at the time I always had to bite my tongue to resist responding with something akin to, "Yes, my parents delivered their beautiful baby girl, looked at her and declared..... 'Jeffrey! We shall name her Jeffrey.'"