i knew i couldn't get a day job and pretend that the things they were all freaked out about were important--winning the account--renaming the ad program--or even talking to the lamest people in the world (the only thing i agree with my first boss about "i'd rather my son be a janitor than a media planner") but i didn't think anyone could be that crazy at a restaurant.
the other night, me delivering fish (athought this time around i'm just the dispacher) with the one table left at the end of lunch, the table full of an office group, with the chinoed self important "give me lemon and no dressing because i fatting out of my 36 waist chinos but i want fish and chips" dude table, being all patronising to his underlings that he's "taking out for lunch" on his corporate card to get moral up, and if i went back there, he'd have to (but he'd be to lazy to get a restraining order, even though i would against me in that tacky t-shirt, too.) had my boss tell me, when a guy (biz guy, customer) said something about the Fox news story. "wow check that out."
okay, you and i know he, unlike my table, doesn't even have assistants to go to lunch with him, that's why he's sitting at the bar and trying to chat up a waitress (who in that shirt looks ugly and yet pathetic enough for him to think of the possibilty) because he knows, like a prostitute, he's paid for service.
yet i say.
"dude. alligators are supposed to be loose in miami. they live there."
he's shocked. he's worried about maybe one of his future wives, who are rollerblading in their g-sting losing a limb in a big old chomp and could he still love her less a limb?
but no worries.
boss: don't look at the TV
What?
boss: we need you to focus on the floor (translation for those of you who haven't worked in restaurants, that means the tables that we wait on, not the crab shells the white trash barbarians have thrown there.)
If I go back there they're going to get a restraining order on me for stalking them.
boss: (no smile. no acknowledgment of joke. does not he know that there are 8,000,000 restaurants in NYC.) well do your sidework.
what i think is CHEF (they all refer to the man, french that he is, as Chef, as if that's a title like prince.) is afraid they will find out that WAITERS oh im sorry SERVERS (who made Server more PC than Waiter?) are people and not just a robotic delivery system for the beer battered (receipe=Budwieser+flour and fish if you don't know how already, which really by now, you should) fish to get to their table. if those people who pay $25 for fish and chips found out we were people with taste buds and smarts and wrote for magazines and shit, they might find out that we're lying through our teeth when we say something is good.
we've never tasted it.
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