I notice more and more every time I go to a restaurant, the waiter or waitress, wearing a nametag will introduce him or herself.
Usually a spunky little gal who can barely speak. She has a mouth full of braces, and a lip filled with skin piercing rings, usually on the lower lip. A big smile is across her face and she says:
“Hi! I’m Spunky, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. If there is anything I can get for you just call. (Try and find her) I’ll be back to take your order. (But don’t hold your breath) Does anyone want something to drink?”
Hold on there, Spunky! Aren’t you going to wait for us to introduce ourselves?
What I should say while shaking her hand is:
“Spunky, this is TLW, the Little Woman, she will be testing you for efficiency, to look for graying roots, and if your clothing is fitting, or you are growing out of them. I am DelBloggolo, I will be writing about your every move tomorrow, maybe even as soon as I get home tonight. (That depends on how much she will annoy me with her service, or lack thereof.) Now, about that drink, make mine a Jack Daniels Manhattan, and don’t chintz me on the bourbon OR the vermouth, and make it pretty damned quick. Oh, by the way, we will be your customers. That’s C-U-S-T-O-M-E-R-S. The last ‘S’ is for service, so don’t leave it off.”
Tipping is the issue. She is friendly because she wants a big fat tip. I tend to be unfriendly because I don’t want to give her a tip. The owner of the place is screwing me already with his outrageous pricing for food and drink! But she seems nice, and besides, let her parents deal with her.
The drinks come for a bus boy who happened to be in the neighborhood, TLW getting a Jack Daniels Manhattan, and me a white wine with a sissy ice cube floating in it. Five minutes later, he returns with two glasses of water!
Spunky, after a vacation and visit to her grandma, brings out the food, asking: “Who gets the chicken coquettes, and who gets the 26 oz. he-man steak with bacon, steak potatoes and enough onions that will make their breath kill all the wall paper in town?”
Attention to detail, that is all it is.
2 comments:
This is Princess Pat and I have
just one comment. How many
Jack Daniel Manhattans can you have?
Are they still asking for your proof?
IT ALL DEPENDS UPON WHAT TIME OF THE DAY I START. And yes, they don't believe I drank all that, so they ask for proof.
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