Oh Hi!!

Well!! Three months later, here I still am. I would love to say I didn't post because I got this other sweet ass job that doesn't involve Service Evolution, but you all know that isn't true. You still see my sour-ass face in the kitchen on the daily. Okay I just got lazy, sorry! So here's a couple silly little stories to make it up to you. I should note that I haven't served in like a month, I've been doing To Go's because I was about to rip the face of the next guest who made a joke about grating cheese, so stories about tables are relayed second hand.

One of my coworkers answered the phone for me because I was unavailable. I see she is writing something down, so I assume it's an order and wait to ring it in when she's done. She has this confused/terrified smile on her face, and puts the call on hold

"this lady is really weird. She told me her name, and her husbands name, and what he is wearing, then said he wanted to place an order. I can't handle this."

Yay!! I pick up the call. Now I want you to imagine this lady's voice the way you might find someone explaining to a 4 year old how drive a car. VERY LOUDLY. VERY CLEARLY. VERY SLOWLY. PUT YOUR FOOT. ON THE BRAKE. OKAY....NOW, PUT. THE. CAR. IN. GEAR.

"Hello. My name is ANITA VERNON. My husband's name is TOM VERNON. That's V---E----R----N---O---N. He is wearing WORKMAN'S CLOTHES. A YELLOW SHIRT and WORKMAN'S JEANS. He is going to pick up the order. OKAY?"

"Okay...what would you like?"

"Oh, he usually takes the special, what is it?"

I describe the featured items

"No, no, he doesn't get the special. What does he get?"

"...I'm not sure ma'am. Do you know what comes on the dish?"

"Sausage"

"Well the only thing we have that comes with sausage is spaghetti with sausage, but you can add sausage to anything."

"No, it's not spaghetti. It's sausage."

"...what kind of sauce, red or white?"

"red."

I start reading every dish with red sauce

"No, no, it's a man dish."

"Is it the Trio of Italian dishes?"

"Yes! and I want the ravioli"

"Okay, was there anything else?

"No, that's it. It's for TOM VERNON, V--E--R--N--O--N. He's wearing WORKMANS' CLOTHES. He has BLONDE HAIR and BLUE EYES. And you're gonna have to say 'HEY, YOU'RE WIFE CALLED IN AN ORDER'."

"Okay, will do."

So, this is how, in my mind, this woman is envisioning what is going to be happening;

The restaurant is busy, very busy. There are packs of people rushing by on the street, some passing by, some coming in to dine. Tom Vernon, workman, has just come off shift. He is hungry, but has no plan for how he may satiate this need. He is shuffling past the open doors of the IR, weaving his way through the mass of alfredo-drunk fatties, his blonde hair rustling in the evening breeze. I am, of course, standing by the front doors looking out for people who's wifes may have placed to-go orders, unbeknownst to them. I see a man in workman's clothes, I see his blonde hair. I sense his desire for a 'man dish'. But I need more. How can I know if this is Tom? Tom Vernon, V-e-r-n-o-n? Just as I think I've got the wrong guy, he looks at me. Our eyes meet, and I see that they are blue. A wave of relief rushes through me, and I push my way through the morbidly obese guests in their motorized scooters. I grab Tom's arm just as he is about to pass us by. Our blue eyes lock and I say "Hey. Your wife placed an order." A broad smile stretches accross his face, and linking arms we return to the lobby to retrieve his order.

Man, good thing she described him in so much detail or I never would have found him! What a freak show!

On to the next. Another night, I am in the back room, which is closed most night, having some tasty treats. As I am getting up to return to the kitchen, I hear a crash. This is not even noteworthy, as crashes in restaurants are a semi-hourly occurance, but this one was followed by "FUCK YOU!!" I look in the direction of the sound and see a woman storming out of one of the smaller rooms towards the front doors. A server who was at a nearby table peaks around the corner, goes into the room and talks to someone, then comes to the kitchen.

"She just threw her entire meal on him" He relays

He gets a towel for the guy, and a few people who were in the alley and got wind of what happened find reasons to go out there and walk by to survey the damage, which is a guy covered head to waist in ziti. I head to the lobby to see what the hosts heard because the room where it happened is very close to them. As we are discussing it, the woman comes storming back in from outside. Just as she passes us, we hear the manager say over the headset "why didn't anyone tell me what's going on at table 93, did you know about this?" Behind me, the woman is right up in the guys face, screaming and wagging her index finger. The manager enters the room and the woman says "we're fine, we're fine" but the manger tells them they need to leave.

They immediately, and quietly, leave. They even managed to close out their check while she was outside and tip their server very very well. So everyone goes to him and asks what happened, were they a couple, were they fighting the whole meal?

Interestingly enough, they were probably his nicest, most polite table, The girl was with her boyfriend, her mom and her brother. It was the brother whom she threw her entire plate of dinner, AND her drink at. And on their way out of the restaurant, the mom said to the hosts "Just a little sibling rivalry."

Yeah cause I remember this one time, I was with my family at Red Lobster, and my little brother was like "mom said I was her favorite" and I was all "heeeeellllll no MOTHAFUCKAAAAAAA!!" and I slammed his head into my whole lobster, the shell slicing his face to bits. And my moms was all like "aw, you kids are too funny, I love you both the same!" and then the whole restaurant staff went "awwww" just like on Full House!!