I walk across the room, ignoring the fact that I was asked
to sashay my way over there. I carry two pots of coffee, one is for decaf and the
other pot is for regular.
I approach the guy, who watches me walk to the table and I
notice that he has an orange coaster under his cup. The orange coffee pot in my
one hand is decaf; the brown pot in my other hand is for regular. I raise the
orange pot and reach it towards his cup. He quickly covers his cup with his
hand and addresses me “Hold on princess, I’m drinking decaf.” “Is that decaf?”
I look at the guy, smile and say, “Yes you dumb, stupid,
lowlife, hillbilly fuck, this is decaf!” Or at least that’s what I want to say,
but I have bills to pay and so I answer “Yes Sir!” Then, I flash him the biggest smile I can
muster.
“Well it better be princess, I don’t want to be up all night
and if I am, I’ll be back!”
“No way, I would never let that happen. I say pivoting away
on one foot. Don’t worry you’ll sleep like a baby.” “A big dumb fucking hillbilly lowlife baby.” I
think to myself.
Later when I go to his table again, I first stop in the
kitchen to fill the decaf pot with regular coffee. When I reach his table, I fill
his decaf cup to the brim with regular coffee.
I smile again at him while I do it. He grunts and raises the
cup to his lips.
I have witnessed horrible things that a waitress or waiter
has done to food before it gets served to nasty customers. It is more the norm
than then you would think. This is the worst thing that I have done. Well this
and I once told someone that they were eating Hellman’s Mayonnaise when they asked
me. Actually they were just eating something from a jar labeled Mayonnaise. They
drunkenly called me on my lie.
Tonight, I get to work in the back part of the smoking
section of the restaurant. Actually the smoking section is pretty much the
entire restaurant. It starts at the front of the restaurant when you come in
and contains 36 of the 42 booths, plus the entire counter along the wall. I get
6 tables which contains 4 booths and two 12 tops. The word “tops” just refers
to how many people the table will hold.
The non-smoking section and the smoking section are only
separated by which way you are facing in your booth. So you can be in the
non-smoking section and the table next to you is smoking. How they think the
smoke in the non-smoking section will stay in the smoking section on it’s own
side is beyond me. Non-Smokers constantly complain that the smoke is drifting
near their table and ask if the staff can “blow it away from?” Or maybe “fan the
menu to make it get away from our table?”
We have no host or hostess tonight, so we have to seat all
the patrons our self. Patiently waiting at the door is a group of drunken
businessmen and businesswomen. Well actually it is 8 drunken businessmen and
one businesswoman.
Grabbing a stack of menu’s I walk to the door. “Hi, party of
nine?” I ask. They nod and rise from the waiting area. I take them to one of my
12 tops, place the menus on the table and tell them I will be right back to
take a drink order.
When I return to the table, the woman has her head resting
on her arm, which is resting on the table.
“Hi!” I say pen held in hand ready to take a drink order.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
The woman lifts her head off the table and looks at me. “No
thanks, She says, I have had to much to drink already.”
She pauses,
and then
proceeds to projectile vomit all over the front of me.
to be continued…
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.
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