SETTING: A dark, busy dining room in a nameless metropolis. The handsome-yet-haggard mystery man slips into his trench-coat, picks up his umbrella, and makes his way towards the door. He's had enough of this gin-joint for one night. He is brooding, some thought or revelation weighing upon his mind. Outside the air is humid, the streets wet, and the skies heavy...not unlike the man's soul. He turns his back towards the camera and walks away as if to exit, then changes his mind, turning suddenly back around.
MYSTERY MAN: (to the vapid blonde waitress) Excuse me...K-uhr-sten?
WAITRESS: Yes sir?
MYSTERY MAN: I just wanted to tell you...(dramatic pause)
WAITRESS: Yes? Sir, what is it?
MYSTERY MAN: You're the worst waitress I've ever had.
He turns, makes his way towards the door, and slips out into the evening, leaving the befuddled, but strangely intrigued waitress in his wake.
Perhaps that's how the man at Table 48 imagined the scenario tonight. I'm fairly confident that he was unhappy from the moment his party sat down. They were seated at a fairly small three-top -- in reality the table was fine, it's just that his sense of entitlement was too big. They looked awkward and uncomfortable from the moment I offered them drinks. Then later, when they waved me down to tell me they were ready to order, they seemed oblivious the the fact that I was holding six dirty glasses and a plate and would have no means with which to write down their stupid order -- hence my decision to say, "I'll be right with you folks." Presumably all of these things conspired against me to cast me in the role of "worst waitress ever."
Since the entitled man called me by name, it seemed only fair that I write down his and google him when I got home tonight. He's kept his image a secret so I can't be sure, but I'm fairly certain he spends his days ah-nalyzing fil-uhm as a professor (currently working towards his doctorate) from high up in one of Boston's ivory towers. Good for him, as his pink shirt, weird man sandals, and utter lack of charisma make him decidedly un-film-worthy. And as we all know, those who cannot do teach.
I supposed the Mystery Man/Film Professor thought he was being the big man when he ceremoniously told me as he was leaving that I was "the worst waitress he'd ever had." But the line fell flat, his felt exit rapid and forced. He literally ran for the door before I could engage him in conversation about his comment, making the cutting and honest line sound whiny.
The supporting actresses in the scene weren't doing the Mystery Man/Film Professor any favors, either. They were moderately icy, forgettable brunettes who exuded about as much personality and intrigue as two pieces of cardboard.
Overall, I'd say the Mystery Man should stick to the role of film professor -- and leave dramatic scenes filled with witty dialogue to the pros. Like my gay friends.
Rating: Two Thumbs DOWN
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
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Are you going to e-mail him a link to this blog? ;-)
If he is working towards his doctorate, he generally wouldn't be called a "professor". Non-PhD folks who teach are generally "Instructors" or some other similar title. There are exceptions, but this may account for some of his feelings of inadequacy.
Well, it's like they say: Those who can act, do. Those who can't become "film professors".
Good for you for being the bigger person and not chasing after him and having a smack down.
I'm itching to know who if Mystery Man is who I think it is. Is his first name a biblical name from Genesis? Is his second name somwhat similar to "better"? If so, he's known for critiquing his students until their eyes bleed, but probably not half as much as he dishes out to himself, poor little fella.
Tempting, Ron. Do you think he'd fail me and send me to the Dean's office? ; )
Dave, if he'd actually let me talk before running away, I probably would have apologized to him and offered to buy him a drink. Only after I thought about the situation did I feel thoroughly defensive!!! I am bad at many things and waitressing is NOT one of them.
As for his real name, I have to say "no comment"...I don't think his name is in Genesis, but I'm not that up on the Old Testament. Anyway, I could have googled the totally wrong person, but imagining him conceiving of the situation as straight out of a film made me laugh! So that's how he shall live on in Blonde Land.
Ripe for Reading, thanks for stopping by! How are you??? Never mind, I'll click thru to your blog to check...xo
great post. you'd be a good script writer too.
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