the bitter waiter: '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.