So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

When I talked to Marianne about this week, she wanted to make sure I wouldn't mind not being at the bar (i.e. not making the tips) for a week. I said I was totally okay with it.

Yesterday, while I was headed north on the Interstate to meet friends for dinner, my phone rings.
Julia: Did X call you? She can't come in tonight and said she'd ask you to cover.
Me: She hasn't called me.
Julia: (mutters something unflattering)
Me: I can't come in though, I've got plans.
Julia: Okay, see ya later then.
The funny part was that I figured me being scheduled for a Friday off would mean getting just such a call. Gotta love it when I'm right.

I ended up being the first person to the eatery and so there were a few minutes when I had two pushed-together tables all to myself. I felt important. Then Deb arrived and a few minutes later the waitstaff was doing their thing for somebody's birthday at a nearby table and Deb and I were entertained. We lucked out in the server lottery and had a waiter who was totally on top of things. A nice change from our typical chain restaurant experience.

Tonight I went in at six to find that Julia had the night off, so I was going to be the only female staff for the night. I plopped down at the bar next to Alex and said, "It's going to be one of those nights, isn't it?" I didn't get a table until seven thirty, so I was stuck talking to Alex and John to pass the time.

Me: So John, did your wife already nix any of those baby names you were thinking of?
John: Yeah, she looked at the list. Then she said, 'Gertrude?'
Me: I had to try. Jenny and Shane didn't go for it, so I figured it was worth another shot.

In the midst of all the baby talk...
Alex: You're next.
Me: I don't think so, bub. Kids are not in my game plan.
Alex: Yeah, uh huh.
So now Alex has claimed veto power in my life. Good to know.

The conversation quickly degraded, because two of those participating were male. Somehow, the topic turned around to John talking about the time he went to a diner that was a gay hangout, then it went to the question of "gay-dar," until finally it wound up with John impersonating Alex as a gay man.
John: Hi, I'm Alejandro and I'm attracted to men.
Alex: F* you.
Me: That's ironic.

John: Hey Ali, I think the kitchen fairy wants you.
Me: First you say Alex is gay, then you call him a fairy. Do I detect a general theme here?

During this lull we had the overly friendly toothless guy.
John: I catch about every other word, but he can't finish a thought anyway, so it doesn't really matter.
-Crazy man sat down, had a few pints, and accosted not one, but two innocent guys who came in for a beer. He did that thing where as soon as you came within a certain proximity, he assumed you wanted to be his new best friend. Normally, I have little sympathy for bar patrons. Tonight, however, I actually felt sorry for those two who accidentally sat at the wrong end of the bar. At one point, while I was walking past, I heard Toothless ask his new best friend, "Do you read the Bible often?" Yeah. You get the idea.

At one point, Like a Virgin came on the radio.
Me: Aw, where's Donny? Hey Alex, you get up on the bar and dance.

After a couple of hours it finally started trying to pick up. I got a few tables (two of which I could have skipped entirely). A fairly regular couple walks in. They're kind of lame tippers, but always pleasant and low-maintenance, so I give 'em a friendly greeting. They order two 10oz. beers. They always order 10oz. beers, and it's ridiculous.
Them: Oh, we don't want a pint, just a little one.
Me: Okay.
Them: Give us another round.
Me: Here ya go.
Them: Give us another round.
By the time all is said and done, they've gone three rounds with their little beers and they might as well have just split a pitcher. Can we say neurotic? To make things worse, a few times the bartenders have accidentally poured a pint instead of the 10oz. I bring 'em over and say, "Whups, the bartender made a mistake in your favor and you get more beer for the same price." Instead of the expected, "Hoorah!" I get a disappointed "Oh." Boggles the mind.

Annoying table 1 - two gals, two guys (one of whom is wearing a cowboy hat). The gals decided they wanted Patron margaritas. Not-cowboy paid for the round and decided I ought to have $1.50 on a $24.50 round. Gee, thanks. Round two - $1.00 on $23. Oh boy. Round three...
Me: Twenty dollars, please.
Not-Cowboy: Twenty even?
Me: Uh huh.
Not-Cowboy hands me a $20 bill.
*Sigh*

Annoying table 2 - a handful of trivia (i.e. Wednesday night crowd) rejects. A couple aren't too bad, the others are known amongst the staff for being monstrous pains in the ass who tip insultingly. Yay! They wander in one or two at a time, and I'm not too bothered until I see Ms. Special sit down. Ugh. When I worked Wednesays, she'd say to me every now and again, "Why don't you work Trivia" and I would say, "Because I'm not a bartender." Two weeks later, she'd ask the same question. For some reason, she seems to like me or something. Either that, or I'd just be a change of pace. F* if I know. Tonight she was there with guy-I-wanted-to-smack-in-the-face.
Guy: I want a tequila and grapefruit juice.
Me: What kind of tequila? We have....
Guy: Is that one a certain something?
Me: I'm not sure, lemme check. (Start to walk away from the table)
Guy-I-wanted-to-smack: Yes, I do want another.
('Cause I was asking, right? Dumbass thought it was his turn to talk to me, and acted all smug and "you don't know how to do your job and were about to forget me" when I was going to be right back to check on everybody else in just one [expletive] second as soon as I checked on the tequila to answer the guy's question.)

Of course, they committed one of the mortal sins - and then they paid and committed another, but that comes later. I would walk over to the table and this is what would happen:
Me: How's everybody doing?
Table: (Ignoring me, save one or two people who would look at me like I had two heads)
Me: (Walking away, 'cause people who ignore me are, by default, not in need of my services)
Then, two minutes later I glance over and one of the bastards is waving frantically in my direction. So, of course, I had to do something else first 'cause the bastards could wait.

Pay-up time comes and Ms. Special and her date add another chickie's drink to their check. I print out the check, drop it off. A few minutes later, I stop by the table to check on everyone and pick up some empty glasses. Ms. Special and GIWTS ignore me. I drop off the glasses, start walking toward the front to say hello to K.C. and Ms. Special and GIWTS are waving a card at me. A gift card, no less. I loathe them. Some places run gift cards just like a credit card and print out a little line that says "Tip" which allows the customer to tip the server off the gift card. Yeah... no such thing where I work (one of the downsides of not being a chain, I think). $30 tab, $0 for me.

Why don't I work trivia? Ha!

In other news, I scored a couple more bottles for my latest jewelry project: a Cockburn's and a Jagermeister, which means some dark green for smashing up and making into stuff. Kind of comical, too, 'cause I put the empty bottles into my bag and they clanged against each other a bit on my way out.
K.C.: You sound like an alcoholic.

And there you have it, the Saturday that shouldn't have been.