the bitter waiter

From the customer's point of view: the lavender fields of Provence

Tee hee, tee hee, tee hee!!!!!!

Oh hi there. 

I didn't see you because I was busy enchanting everyone at my table with a pretentious recounting of my two years in Paris & all the splendor and beauty I saw, that you didn't see, because I had the means for living in Paris for two years, and you did not, because I am me, and you are not.  Do you understand?  I don't mean to be condescending when I ask that question, but according to some, I tend to come across as condescending no matter what I say!

I surround myself with people who will be endlessly fascinated by my anecdotes, and they will be my suckling sycophants, encouraging me to regale anyone within earshot of my life's superior travels and accomplishments.

Oh that reminds me!  I was at Kitty Grandeur's wedding, which took place in the entirety of MOMA, because, as you know, the Grandeurs have so much money!  So Kitty and I were laughing because Mrs. Danvers mistook the Beluga caviar for Sterlet caviar!!  Have you ever????

Tee hee, tee hee, tee hee!!!!!

What would I like to order?  HHHHMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmm let me peruse your limited menu with stern consternation and highfalutin facial objections.

Just a side of...chicken breast.  You wouldn't happen to be able to do a paillard would you?  Oh you don't know what that is?  Because this isn't a French restaurant?  And you've never been to France?

What's that, little butler man, you have been to France?  Oh how cute.  It must have been on a work-study program or something like that.

Oh, it was of your own volition and out of your own pocket?  I get the sense you don't want me to look down on you, man in the apron, so I shall only patronize you more!

Say, from what region is this meager table wine?  I was once dining with Countessa VonStratmore, and she and I were drinking the most lovely Malvasia Nera from Italy, as we sailed along the coast comfortably.  We played card games with her servants in lieu of paying them, and they put on the most adorable little musical for us with their gypsy instruments.

Would you and your fellow servants please engage in a similar form of entertainment for my sycophants and me?  Do you keep your banjo in your wagon outside?  Play something that will harken back to my boys chorus days, like "Beneath the Banyan Tree" or "In Youth Is Pleasure!"

Tee hee, tee hee, tee hee!!!!!!

Oh look at the hour, it appears we must leave shortly for my friend Galadriana's art gallery opening at LACMA.    She's doing the most exquisite rendering of the falling of the Berlin Wall.  You were there, right?  My book club and I were seated in the V.I.P. section next to Mikhail Gorbachev, Joan Baez, and the Redgrave sisters.  We all giggled fastidiously at the ill-fitting socks of one of the city workers!!!

Here is your pittance, humble servant.  I hope these shiny pennies afford you the great luxuries to which your kind is accustomed, whether it be smokes or deodorant!  I am off to my majestic evening.  This has been great fun, as I know you've enjoyed tremendously basking in my presence!  To quote William Shakespeare, whose great great great great great great grand-son is my Pilates instructore, "Parting is such sweet sorrow!"

Tee hee, tee hee, tee hee!!!!!

'tude

Meet D'ante.

D'ante, amidst a day of raiding the racks at Gap, Banana, and Lucky, decided he'd come in and place an order to go.

Dressed in a contradictory ensemble of a snow hat, sweater, and a tight tight TIGHT T-shirt, he entered the restaurant while screaming at Shemar on his phone and then hanging up on him.

In short, D'ante was in a mood, and he wanted the world to know.

He sat himself at one of my booths, so I headed over with a menu, chips and salsa.

"Hi, how are you?" I asked.

"Uhm, I'm sending a text message, so not really in the mood to talk," he replied.

Sometimes when people are cunty to me, I huff and I puff and I react accordingly with a bitchy retort.

Other times, however, when I know it will land with great effect, I play Sammy Sunshine and the village idiot.

"Oh I'm so sorry to hear you're in a bad mood!!!!!!" I replied.  "You just take your time and let me know when you need something!!!!!!"

D'ante looked at me as if I were a clown at a funeral.  I smiled obnoxiously and skipped off.

As I was turning in the order for another table, D'ante approached me.

"I need this, to go," he said while pointing vaguely at his menu.

"Oh I'm SO sorry," I said.  "I can't tell which item you want!!!!!!!!!!"

"THIS.  ONE," he said while doing absolutely nothing to clarify.

"...Yeeeeeeeah, geez, SO sorry, I still can't tell, aaaaaaah!!!" I replied.  "Why don't you try saying  it out loud???????"

"THE.  FAJ-EE-TOSS," he pronounced, ending the order with a grand hand roll that signified sassy royalty.

"Oh sure!!!" I replied.  "Chicken?  Steak??  Shrimp???  A combo????  A mix????  Vegetarian????? The suspense is killing me!!!!!!!!"

"Figure it OUT!" he snapped, and stormed off.  

By this point he'd taken to doing laps around the restaurant while screaming a litany of phrases to Shemar:

"Try sayin' that again.  I said try sayin' that again.  All I hear is disrespect.  ALL I HEAR IS DISRESPECT." 

"No ma'am, I am not receiving that.  No ma'am..."

"Really...?  Really...?  Really...?  Really...?  Really...?  Really...?"

"Say that to my face.  I dare you.  Say that to my face."

As soon as his food was ready, I waived the to-go bag in his face.  He was still on the phone with Shemar and tried to grab the bag out of my hand and flee.  I retracted the bag and held up the bill in its place.

"Silly, you have to pay!!!!!" I said loudly.

D'ante threw a $20 at me and stormed off.  His total was only $12, so I tucked the remainder in my pocket.

Later that afternoon, once my shift was finished and I needed a caffeine pick-me-up after so much shift-drinking, I walked across the street to Starbucks.  I entered just in time to observe D'ante yelling at a Starbucks employee.

A fellow Starbucks employee, for it turns out D'ante is a barista.  A barista I plan to visit from time to time for sheer entertainment.

You've got hate mail

"Glenn Ford" writes:

Sometimes you have to believe the good in people out weighs the bad intents you're receiving; for the annoying feeling you perceive may be your own inner working not being able to rightly adjust to the love being shown because of your lack of being able to give a 100% of it of yourself; maybe.

Talk about an epiphany, Glenn.  You must be correct.  How else could someone with such insight gaze into the soul of a perfect stranger and rectify his wicked, wicked ways?

I have been approaching these people - these customers who I thought were merely making my life difficult - unaware that they were actually displaying inspiring amounts of love and good will.

Like that pregnant woman who told me to go "fuck myself" when I forgot her side of sour cream.  I see now through your prose that she wasn't condemning me; she was nurturing and encouraging me, challenging me to put my all into the passions of my day job.

Like that grumpy old man who kept calling everyone a "faggot," who sneezed on my hands as I set down his food and did not leave a tip.  Surely through his actions any logical person would have seen miraculous evinces of unconditional love and empathy, the kind of human spirit stuff that truly tugs at your heart strings.

Or like that warlock of an Armenian man, who upon seeing that we serve our Ahi tuna salad at a cook-recommended medium rare, proceeded to dump it on the table in front of his companions for their amusement.  Only someone blind, deaf and dumb would have misconstrued that for anything less than love.

So thank you, Glenn.  Henceforth I shall approach these gentle souls with only the kindest of thoughts and the most flattering of descriptions.  I will shortly rename this blog "GRATEFUL WAITER" and will regale everyone with stories of generosity and selflessness not seen since Jesus addressed humanity in the Gospel.

Go in love, everyone.