>My husband is watching Survivor. Which is fine, but it is a re-run. He is watching re-runs of a contest-reality-show. He is watching re-runs of a contest-reality-show of which he already knows the outcome. If you notice my previous post, reality shows are #11 on my list of what pisses me off. What makes these people so goddamned special? My reality is a hell of a lot more interesting. If you want to see a reality show, go sit in a restaurant, or a park, and people-watch for an hour. People being people and having discussions when they don’t know anyone is listening…THAT’S entertainment. That’s one thing I like about my job. It is full of people-watching. Reaching around a guest to pour champagne or clear a course…that’s when you get to hear some interesting shit. What’s so hilarious about it is that 20% of the time people at the table are talking shit about people at other tables.
“Oh my God; can you believe how she’s dressed?”
“I think the one on the left is gay…yep, definitely…he’s drinking a mimosa.”
“SHE doesn’t need a dessert menu; she needs a treadmill…”
“Those have GOT to be fake…”
In case you haven’t noticed my excessive use of feminine pronouns above, it is usually women I hear this from. I classify myself as the biggest traitor to female gender. There’s nothing funnier than 5 or 6 women at one of my tables having a “girls day out”, trying to out-do one another with their Tiffany collection and seeing who can eat the least.
“Oh! I can’t possibly finish this…”
“I know, I’ve had two whole bites! Ugh; I’m so full!”
“See what my husband bought me for my birthday? I picked it out!”
“Oh, I got one just like it from mine…only mine’s bigger.”
People with priorities this fucked up should be sterilized.
I had a couple at a table today ask me if I believed in an afterlife. I told them it was a conversation much to grandiose to fit between taking their order and dropping their check. But in short I said that I hope so, otherwise death would be damn boring.
I’ve had some odd questions from some of my tables. I’ve been asked to help build a church, what I think of the war in Iraq, how often my husband and I have sex; even asked if I would partake in a threesome. I’ve been hugged and kissed. Once on the lips from this 95-year old woman. People are just so grateful for awesome service. I’ve had people cry as they thank me for making their cancer-survivor mother’s birthday special.
The most memorable guest I ever had was this woman who came in for breakfast about a year ago. She was alone, and not that I judge by appearances, but from looking at her you could tell that she was a person of very little means. She was celebrating a year of sobriety, and had saved up for 2 months to have breakfast at the restaurant I work in. She ordered the grand four-course breakfast, which runs about $45.00 for one person. She was just so humble and so sincere, and loved that someone was actually taking the time to talk to her. After she finished the last course, I boxed up some extra scones from the kitchen and snuck them to her so she could take them home. When I went to print her check, I could not in good conscience drop it on her table. So I wrote her a gift card saying “Congratulations on your year of sobriety! Please accept breakfast as a gift from us to celebrate your accomplishment.”
What I love about doing things like that for people is to sort of sneak away so that I can watch their faces. This poor woman broke into tears. As I was bustling around the dining room, she came up to me and asked if she could give me a hug, and I obliged. She sobbed, saying how no one had ever done anything like that for her before, and how she was so touched and grateful for what we did, and she was thankful that there were still kind people in the world. After she left, I relayed the story to one of my friends I work with, and teared up as I told it. I went to clear her table, and I found a $100 bill with a note, explaining that she came that day to spend that money, that she had saved it for something special, and she said that my co-worker and I were that something special. It was overwhelming. I tried to find her, to tell her that seeing her joy was gratuity enough for me…I know she needed that money. But she was nowhere to be found. Her reservation had no information, no phone number, nothing. It was one of the most touching moments I ever had with a guest.
So even though there are a lot of shallow, self-centered, judgmental elitist people out there, it’s the ones who live to be kind and grateful who renew your faith in the human race.
Wow. That post ended very differently from how it began. Tangent!