I started waiting tables when I was 16. My first job was at my all time favorite restaurant...Friendly’s, which specializes in ice cream. We were supposed to say, “Friendly’s...you bet we are!”
I always thought it was funny when my boss would answer the phone,
“Friendly’s, North Main Street, manager speaking, you bet we are.”
The person on the other end must be thinking, “Bet you are what?” It kind of got lost in the translation.
I was a terrible waitress. I was always getting myself into situations. One time a group from my church came to visit...they told me they were in a big hurry and needed a rush order. I was so young and excited to show them what a wise waitress I was, multitasking and getting everything at the same time. I dashed around getting their drinks and salads and then trying to be the ‘cool waitress’ by coming to their table and shootin’ the breeze with them, like I had everything under control.
Until somebody said, “Shouldn’t our food be ready by now?Its been like a half hour.”
So I went to check on it, demandingly telling the grill cook I was in a big hurry and needed their food right away.
“I don’t even have that slip”, he said. I reached into my pocket and found that I had never even put their order in. So much for the wise waitress.
Another time a family came in and the dad asked, “Excuse me, miss, do you serve ahmreds all day?”
“Uh, what was that?”, I said.
“Do you serve ahmreds all day?”
“I’m really sorry, one more time?”
“I SAID, do serve AHMREDS all day?”
“Umm, I’m not sure, let me go ask my manager.”
I had no idea what the man was saying. And rather than asking again (which would make me look foolish) I decided to do the wise thing and go ask my manager.
Except that I had no idea what to ask him.
I got to the back and asked a fellow waitress, “Hypothetically... if a man was asking if we serve ahmreds all day, what would you think he wanted?”
She just stared at me.
“Maybe he wants to know if we have almonds?
Or if we serve Amish people all day?”
No, that can’t be it.
After a while I went back to the table and said, “I’m sorry, sir, what is it you’re looking for? Can you spell it for me?”
“O-M-E-L-E-T-T-E-S. Your sign out front says you have them”.
“Ooooooh... Omelettes! Yeah, no. We don’t serve those all day”.
Good grief.
For some reason people didn’t like it too much when I would spill things on them either. Like the lady in the white pants who I spilled the diet coke on, or the girl who I dropped the hot syrup on. It’s tricky... getting those big trays balanced with everything on them! The worst was when I spilled a large glass of iced tea on a baby’s head. She could barely sit up by herself in the high chair, and there I am... tipping a whole drink on top of her head. For a minute she looked stunned, much how I must have looked, and then she let out this ear piercing wail that caused the entire restaurant to turn my way. The poor little thing had her hair matted down...ice in her ears...her eyes fused shut with sticky liquid. There’s really not much you can do at that point except pray. I guess it must have worked because the family ended up leaving happy and gave me a good tip. That’s nothing but supernatural.