Recently, many of you have asked me about my new moonlighting job. I have gotten questions like, “Michele, what’s up with the bartending gig? Aren’t you a graphic designer?” And I really don’t have a direct answer for you. I think I actually enjoy it, to some degree. I actually enjoy being around people. I actually enjoy taking orders. And the stories I come home with are wonderful.
On Saturday, a couple walked into the bar for brunch. The male-unit of the couple had a word written on his forehead.
TEMPER
His female counterpart had a word written on there as well.
MENTAL
Together, they were perfect. But I couldn’t help but wonder why such a perfect couple would come out into such and imperfect world. Surely, they were bound to always feel left down. And I guess my job was making that come a little easier.
I sat them at the lover’s booth. This was the name given to me for that particular table by one CCLB. Immediately, she began to complain.
Where is that draft? Is there a draft? I feel a draft.
Well, you both just walked in. I think it’s from the door. Once it closes all the way, it will warm up.
I am cold. Are you sure?
Knowing that this wouldn’t get any better and that she would pull out her “I WAS RIGHT” card later, I decided to change it.
I’ll tell you what, let’s move you two near the kitchen where it’s warmer.
They agreed and were settled. I handed them both menus and went to get them some water.
Excuse me? Can I get some coffee with 2% milk? No half-and-half. I don’t like that stuff. And I want my water with no ice.
“Anything to keep you less frigid.” I thought.
TEMPER wanted his water with ice. I went to retrieve one glass of water, neat, a glass of water on the rocks, one coffee and some 2% milk. They were content.
I let them look over the menu while I took care of the 8 other tables I had. After a short while, I returned.
What can I get you two?
I think I will have the special. And I want free-range eggs with that. I’ll pay extra if I have to. Also, is your salmon farm-raised or is it wild?
I found out that our salmon was wild. We didn’t waste time any pussy-bred, farm-raised salmon. I guess that was a good thing, because MENTAL actually smiled.
Fine. Great. I’ll have the special with wild salmon and some free-range eggs.
I was finished with her and moved on to TEMPER.
I can’t decide if I want the special or some pancakes. What kind of fruit do you have?
Today, we have blueberries, strawberries, bananas, and raspberries. We also have candied walnuts and chocolate chips.
I’ll have two pancakes with everything.
Everything?
Yes, everything.
His girlfriend must have nudged him, because he suddenly began to rethink this near pancake blasphemy.
Am I overdoing it again? I am, aren’t I? I’ll just have blueberries and strawberries.
His girlfriend giggled and sipped her iceless water.
What kind of meat would you like with that?
Are your sausages patties or links?
They’re patties. We make them ourselves.
I mashed my hands together as if preparing Silly-Puddy for a homemade newspaper photo-copy.
I’ll have the sausage.
I put in their order and began to take care of the other tables again.
After a short while, the bell rang letting me know that their food was ready and I walked back to retrieve it. I placed it before them and watched them rub their hands together in unison in search of something, ANYTHING, wrong. They found nothing. But I knew it was only a matter of time before their other sense, the sense of taste, stepped in to make sight’s failed point.
I went to give table 3 their check, turn over some mimosas to table 6 and serve food to table 10. TEMPER then called me over.
Yeah, is there any way I can get grits instead of this sausage? It’s too hard and chewy and dry. I don’t like it.
I went back to the kitchen to check. They agreed because they knew exactly whom I was dealing with. I went back to share the good news.
Yes, we’ll do that for you.
MENTAL began to speak again.
Can you take this away? We don’t want it here.
I looked down at her napkin. There, sitting like a lifeless turd, was the slab of sausage.
O.K.
Yeah, just get rid of it.
He handed me the turd-sausage and I tossed it into the trashcan.
After I served them their grits, I totaled up their bill and left them be for a while. Why bother making sure they were all right when I knew that NOTHING would make them feel all right? Plus, I had seen larger tips inside hidden Easter eggs.
The bartender on duty called me over to make sure everything was O.K.
What’s going on with those two?
I told her about the draft, the free-range eggs, the free-swimming fishes, and then the freeing of the meat-turd. The bartender rolled her eyes.
Why even bother coming out?
My thoughts exactly.
Finally, I was finished with their table. I put down the bill and walked into the kitchen to check on other things. As I walked back from the kitchen, I noticed that MENTAL was hand-rolling a cigarette. Silently, I judged.
You see, apparently, in Mental’s world, fishes need to swim freely and in iceless water. Chickens need to give birth on expansive land surrounded by cows that gave off nothing but 2% milk. Imperfect sausage patties are sent flying though the air on a white napkin into a trashcan. Drafts due in from Mother Nature aren’t welcome at all. But she can pollute the world with her second hand smoke and her cigarette butts just as long as her tobacco was raised free-range.
temper and mental? really? what’s that about?
where the fuck is this restaurant?
They didn’t really have things written on their foreheads. I made that part up because, well, I can.
p e o p l e / sheesh…
At least you had the good sense not get sucked into their miasma ‘tho I would’ve applauded had you tucked a urinal cake [preferably organic] into their grits.
Take comfort in the fact that their capacity for self delusion will only be surpassed by their future childrens’ ability to be sneaky, deceptive, lying little bastards. Of course, they will never know it. I wonder, which came first: the picky and pretentious bitch or the free-range egg? I’m willing to pay extra for the answer …
Oh, and smokers of the world, this is in no way an attack on people who like the tobacco, I myself, once simple adored the tobacco. Hopefully, no one took it to mean something negative. :]
You have the patience of a saint. I didn’t last long at my waitressing job, as I almost murded an entire table of lawyers. (no offense other people who are lawyers)
Mihow, I can’t get you via email, I know you guys are super busy. Drop me a line if you get a chance.
I’ll bet they left you a two dollar tips after your worked your ass off for them too. I can’t stand people like that. Just order WTF is on the menu and be happy with it. You should have given them both Mihow Chops to the collarbone.
Good luck tonight with all the stuff for SPD. You guys hold dominion over portraits everywhere.
A career in Food Service is the best possible way to live life.
Ouch, now I feel bad about the cig box beside the spoons.
Bayat! I said I am Pro-Smoker. I’m just sayin’ the gal needs to get her hypocrisies in order. :] For example, I no longer claim I am a vegetarian. Instead, I say “fishetarian” as I eat fish because well, Kurt said it long ago, they don’t have any feelings, so it’s ok.
Smoke up, johnny, just don’t be telling me that your fish needs to be wild and your chickens roam free.
Oh my god I would have thrown them out the moment she started blather on about free range eggs. Is she serious? Farm raised or wild salmon…seriously I hope you spit in her coffee.
I wonder if she told him to chuck the sausage because it was offensive since it was not “free range” or organic.
I don’t understand people. It is so much work to be pissed off about everything, and you mostly just make yourself miserable. But on the bright side, you can blame everyone else.
Ugh. I would have to steel myself against putting an extra organic booger chew in Temper & Mental’s breakfasts.
I wonder if others before you have served them up a little extra?
Isn’t wild salmon super toxic these days?? They sound like monkeys.
I bet they wanted big spoons, too.
I figure, people like that will NEVER be happy. EVER. And that thought makes me smile…even more than the thought of shoving toothpicks up their noses.
I don’t like being around people all that much, I think I will enjoy waiting on them even less, that’s why I think I’ll still remain a graphic designer even though that has it’s problems as well… for example, it doesn’t get you any great stories like this one.
So what IS up with the bartending gig?
It’s no wonder I still work in food service and have yet to find a “real” job. I spelled “hypocrisy” wrong and it was like that all day long.
Silently judge me, please. Or not so silently, I can take it. ;]
Long day, man. I ain’t gonna lie.
Not that I’m saying there is anything wrong with working in food service. I mean, after all, I am and I do enjoy it.
Damn, first I insult the smokers of the world, now, the food service employees, what’s next?
farmers?
Yes, farmers. that’s a most excellent idea. I hope your fishes run free, mpap.
Actually, I have the utmost admiration for farmers. One time, I actually tried to work on one. I applied to a dairy farm in Pennsyltuckey and on the application there was a question. It read:
“Have you ever pulled a baby calf from a birthing cow?” I was all, “ummmmm no?” Needless to say, I never got that job. My goal is to know a little bit about everything and be good a nothing. I’m pissing people off left and right today, rest assured.
I avoid pissing people off by not talking about fat people or retards. Make a fat joke or a retard joke-
even if it’s funny-and you’re bound to piss someone off. Sheesh. And don’t ge me started about the fat, free-range retarded smokers who use tablespoons and can’t stand cold drinks.HaveSatan, you’re taunting happy fun Internet.
Today, I took the offense and actually applied it to my real life. I managed to piss off a REAL LIFE friend. Can’t wait to meet you this weekend. I’m sure I’ll figure out some way to unconsciously make you cranky.
Give that calf a cigar! Make it inhale and hold it. Then grind it into sausage, fry it crusty and char-licious and serve it steaming and juicy to Mental.
It’s going to be fun. I don’t think you’ll make me or MrsSatan cranky, but I really hope you upset some innocent diners. That would be very fun to watch.
If I pull a bloody cow from a bleeding cow vagina, I’m the one who’ll need the cigar.
You have the patience of a saint. Are you sure the coffee you served them didn’t have 2% milk and 3% spit? If not, it was probably spit free cup they’ve ever drank while not at home.
hmmmm… I bet the tobacco was ORGANIC and that made it all okay.
I shake my head at the silliness of some people.
who knew you could even get free range eggs at a restaurant?
And to, Lana, I think the theory is that wild salmon are supposed to be less toxic because they can get into deeper and fresher water that has less environmental chemicals than the salmon that are ‘farm raised’ by being segregated in a certain part of the water.
You did an AMAZING job at selfportraitday.com!
It looks really fabulous.