I'm closing tonight. Closing totally blows. Within minutes all of my fellow waitrons punch out, pack up all their things, and leave me here to waste away as the last two tables of the night linger on into Toro oblivion.
Table 45 just sat down and has been too busy making googley eyes at each other to notice me. Guess I should stop pouting at least try to take their order. When I approach the table, the girl has excused herself; the guy is sitting alone.
"I can come back in a minute if you like," I say.
"No, bring us two shots of Patron. With Rose's," he says.
Blech. That sounds so gross. I'm so preoccupied by the thought that I walk away without confirming whether he wants those chilled. He must...I think. The only thing more terrible-sounding than a shot of Patron with Rose's is a WARM shot of Patron with Rose's. But the bartender will be pissed at me if I'm wrong and she has to make the foul concoctions twice, so I return to the table to confirm.
"You want those shots chilled, right?" I say.
"No. Not chilled. Just Patron and Rose's lime juice. Not chilled."
Ewwww. When I approach the service bar to pick up the shots my bartender informs me that we do not, in fact, carry Rose's. Duh. I head back to Table 45 to let him know these will be coming with fresh lime & simple syrup instead.
"That's fine, he says," waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Patron, lime & whatever. Not chilled."
"Okay," I say.
"Thanks, Brb..." he says, mumbling something under his breath - did he just call me Barbie? I'm still too preoccupied by the disgustingness of his drink order to know for sure what has transpired.
I deliver the shots. By now the girl is back at the table.
"Thanks, Barbie," he says when I drop them off. Again. He mumbled it AGAIN, and I swear he just called me Barbie. I decide to ignore it.
I approach the table a few minutes later to see if they're ready to order food yet. They 'haven't even looked!' but are ready for cocktails:
"Hennessy and Diet Coke, please," the guy says. "Wait, do you guys have Hennessy? If not, Remy will do."
Hennessy of Remy? With DIET? Really? "Sure," I say, looking at him suspiciously. Who is this guy? I wonder, What planet is he from? Where is it okay to order Hennessy with ANYTHING, much less Diet COKE? "No problem."
"Thanks, Barbie," he says. This time I heard it -- I definitely heard it. He called me Barbie. I can't tell if he's laughing at me or with me and I have no idea how to respond.
By the time Table 45 is ready to order, I have decided that this guy is a total chode and I am in no mood to deal with it. He keeps ordering MTV drinks (maybe next he'll ask for Alize or Hypnotique?) and surreptitiously calling me Barbie. The aggressive shot-ordering indicates to me that he's desperate to get this girl in the sack; we'll see about that.
His date asks me what dishes I recommend, and I extol the virtues of the messiest, most garlicky items we have: I launch into a litany about the the pan con tomate, toasted bread rubbed with raw garlic and tomato, extol the virtues of the gambas al ajillo, the garlic shrimp, and tell how they haven't lived 'til they've tried the maiz asado con alioli y queso cotija, known to most as simply "the corn."
"What else is really good?" the guy asks. I repeat myself. In the end, they order every single garlicky, alioli drenched, cheese-and-corn-kernels-up-by-your-eyebrows dish.
"Thanks, Barbie," he says.
"My pleasure," I say with a smile. Garlic breath = Barbie's revenge.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
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Ha ha. Great post. And, man, can I relate! After years of waiting tables and dealing fingers snapped at me, being clucked at, and downright temper tantrums, it is always wonderful to enjoy a passive-aggressive little maneuver out of the ole server apron...
You go, Barbie!
Ugh, for some reason I read "Rose's" and I thought he was ordering an unchilled shot of Patron and that Tequila Rose stuff. I was seriously about to barf.
I love your blog!! Just stumbled across it.
I'm new at this whole waitressing thing, and seriously, have already come across quite a few who I'd like to get some revenge on.
P.S. Guy at Tbl 11, 12:30 today, thanks for the .22 cent tip, jackass! I understand that your mentally challenged and that's all you brought, so maybe pass on the second Hefe so you can leave me a decent tip! Or maybe next time you go to a restaurant, think about carrying more than $13 in your wallet!
Phew! That felt good.
That is so funny!
Henessey and diet is bad enough, but I've had worse...
How about Courvoisier & coke, but pronounced "coo-voo-zeer?"
Very cute.. I'm just starting to read your blog, and haven't figured out CHODE yet, but I'm hopeful you tell us somewhere without it being toooo far back in the archives! Enjoying what I've read so far and look forward to more!
Doug, check out this def: http://onlineslangdictionary.com/definition+of/chode
I totally picked the word up from a friend, though, and now find it addictive. I use it to refer to meatheady guys, I guess. Thanks for your kind words!
Kindall, where do these foul drink orders come from??? Thanks for stopping by!
And J, keep your chin up, the dealing with people part of waitressing never gets easier, but it prepares you for pretty much anything in other aspects of your life. Gives you a thick skin. :)
Man, it doesn't work if they BOTH eat garlic! :-P
Found your blog from this, btw:
Great! I think I'm a fan! :)
I was wondering about that! Oh well, frankly they left the restaurant WAY too drunk to care about bad breath and possibly even too drunk to get it on. So funny!
Thanks for stopping by!
Hey! Also found your site through the same article as katelynn's.
Hello from Singapore!
Geez....I've had jobs in the past I hated. Know what I did? Quit!
Thanks for saying hi, i~sha!
As for you anonymous, if that's your real name, I actually LIKE waiting tables. I just view gross cocktails, and the people who make fun of me while they drink them, with disdain.
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