Thursday, November 4, 2010

NANOWRIMO DAY 4

If you are just now reading this, and haven't read previous days click here to start at day one.


“Something tells me that if I let you follow me into the bedroom I’ll be late for work.” I teased before another burp escaped me.

“If I follow you into the bedroom you will get to work on time… you’ll just wish that you could be late.” Spencer replied, his voice in a low whisper next to my ear. He had come up from behind me and wrapped his arms around my stomach.

I wanted to laugh and get myself into the bedroom. I really should have. But I couldn’t. Not with him that close to me. Not when he was using his deep seductive voice. He was wrong. He didn’t have to make getting dressed a challenge to make me want to just skip work, I wanted to skip work with the mere tone of his voice in my ear. What I did say, albeit weakly, was, “I won’t be late?”

“Nope. Cause you’re going to go change now.” Spencer said chipperly, using his normal voice. He kissed me on the neck and patted me on the butt before giving me a firm push to the bedroom.

I walked toward it, trying to cool off. I wanted to smack him for that. I was still in a daze of desire when I entered the bedroom. I walked over to my closet and got my uniform out. I had to search to find my name tag, because it had fallen off of the nightstand into the crack between the nightstand and the bed. I banged my head on the metal framing of the bed when reaching for it, which reinstated the headache I had earlier. I downed another Excerdrine tablet which was still laying on the nightstand from earlier.

When I was all ready to go I still had about ten minutes until I had to leave. I walked into the living room and joined my husband on the couch. He was reading one of the books I had read last year. “All dressed. Ten minutes to spare.” I said, flouncing on the couch.

“You look good.” Spencer told me.

I reached up a hand to cover my mouth while I swallowed back another bubble of gas in my throat that was being difficult. “Yea, I know. All ready to go and flirt my butt off trying to get people to pay me. It’s G-rated prostitution.” I laughed.

“That’s why you’re so good at it?”

“Cause I’m easy?” I asked, offended.

“No, because guys will pay just to hear you say ‘I’ll be right back with those drinks. Not to mention to watch you walk away from the table.”

“You are so biased. I get paid well because I’m the best darn waitress they have. My guests enjoy themselves, and I earn the money fair and square.”

“I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. I’m not saying I’m not biased. I”m just saying that the experience of getting food served by you is worth at least 50% of the total bill.”

I laughed at that. 50% tips only happened if someone orders just a drink and pays with a ten. In other words, only bartenders see 50% tippage. “I wish my customers thought like you. Unfortunately, if you came to eat, it would still cost us money and do no good. Except maybe raise my tip out.” I sighed. “And time for me to get out of here. I’ll be back later.” I said, leaning over and kissing him. “Love you.”

“Knock em’ dead.”

“If I do that I won’t get my tips.” I said, just before closing the door.

Kid's Night

It was a madhouse when I got to the restaurant. It was kids night, and every table was already full. I clocked in quickly and washed my hands before checking the seating chart. I had the middle section. I sighed again, and then smiled widely before turning back to face the crowd. Sometimes, waitressing was a lot like working in an improv play. An improv play in which no body changed outfits and the costumes were boring, but a play non the less. I walked over to Josie, the girl who had my section during the morning and told her that I was there and ready to take over.

“Thank God!” She said exiting out of the POS screen. I just picked up 27, it’s an 8-top. Here’s their drinks, lets go switch them over to you.” I took the paper she handed me, but she ripped it back out of my hand. “Actually, go introduce yourself. I’ll get the drinks out to them while you do that.” She amended.

So I walked over to the double table and introduced myself. “Hi, my name is Marti. Josie was filling in for me until my shift started, so I’ll be your server from here on out. How’s everyone doing?” The eight teens sitting at the table chorused that they were all doing great. It looked like a horrible table to start the night out with. Teens never tipped properly. First of all, at best there would be about four checks. At worse, each person is paying for his or her own meal. Second of all, teens always assume that the others are leaving decent tips. If I got three dollars for this table, it’d be a miracle. No wonder Josie was so glad to give it up.

“Do you know what you want to order?”

“I need more time.” The blonde on the corner said as Josie delivered her drink.

“Ok, I’ll be right back then.” I said, scrambling from the table as fast as I could. I searched out the restaurant for Crystal. She was over in the back right corner. Lucky girl. I walked over to her. “Hey, how’s the day been?”

“Morning was great.” She said as we both walked back to the POS on the end of the aisle. This is hectic.”

“Aren’t kids nights always hectic?”

“Yea, but there’s this table I have, 98, the kids are passing around a bowl of popcorn. So far it’s not been too bad, but every five minutes or so they start fighting over it.”

“Popcorn? For real?” I glanced over to table 98. “That’s is definitely different.” I said, not sure about what exactly to say. “Why popcorn?”

“Apparently one of the kids are allergic to potatoes. So he can’t have french fries. His mother’s brilliant substitute is popcorn. Although, the other kids can’t just sit there and watch this kid eating popcorn, so it keeps getting passed around.

“Huh.” Was all I said. I mean, really, what do you say to something like that. “Well I better,” I began, before one of those annoying burps split up my sentence. “Excuse me. I better go check on my table from Hell.”

“The eight top?”

“Yep.”

“Sorry chica.”

I shrugged. Nothing I or Crystal can do about it. “See ya round.” I said, then walked over to my 8-top.

“Do we know what we want now?” I asked, noting that a few of the cups were nearing empty. I checked the list Josie had shoved back into my hand when I was talking to Crystal and made a note as to which once were low.”

“I’m ready.” Said a voice across the table from where I was standing. I originally thought that the teen was a boy, but the voice was that of a girl. So, I suppose I was wrong.

“Ok,” I reached for my notepad and pen. “What can I get for you?” I proceeded to take their orders, all of which had at least one modification. I repeated their orders back, then went to key them in to the POS. Immediately after that I refilled the drinks that had been getting dangerously low.

After that table was taken care of I went back to the front counter and folded some of the silverware that was laying out. All of my other tables were seated, but they were all being handled by Josie. It looked like most of them were almost done.

“What do you mean it’s empty?” I heard a voice scream above all of the other voices in the restaurant.” I looked up from my silverware folding and saw that Crystal’s table in the back, table 98, had been the one that caused the uproar. The mother was standing up and leaning over her child, trying to soothe her child over. I put down my silverware and walked over to the right hand area so I could see what was going on. I couldn’t hear the mother, who was trying her best to keep her child quiet, but I could hear the child just fine.

“It was my popcorn!” The child yelled, not giving over to his mother’s soothing voice. “They can have french fries. I can’t. They shouldn’t have ate it!” He continued to yell, pounding his fists on the table.
Crystal bypassed me and went up to the table. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The mother sighed and it looked like she was saying that the kid ran out of his popcorn. As if the whole restaurant didn’t already know that.

The boy was in near hysterics. “I want my pppopcorn!” The child screamed, beginning to cry. He was still ponding his fists on the table furiously. About a minute later he decided that nobody was giving him his popcorn, so instead he decided to punish the kid that ate his popcorn. He picked up the now-empty ceramic bowl and threw it toward the popcorn thief. The other kid ducked from the flying bowl and the bowl went right over his head, hitting the elderly lady sitting behind them right in the temple.

The old lady slumped over the table and Crystal immediately left the distraught mother and went to check on the old lady.

“Marti! You’re table is up!” Sage said as she rushed past me.

I blinked a few times, not entirely sure that what I just saw actually happened, then I shook my head and walked back to get the 8-top’s food. “Here you go.” I grinned, passing the dishes out to each of the teens. “Everything look good? Do we need anything else?” I waited a few moments while they all bit into their food and ignored me before walking away, refilling the one glass that was low, and going to greet my table that just got sat.

That table, at least appeared to be promising. It was a twosie. Probably a first date. The guy was young, probably about 25 and the girl maybe a year or two younger. I sold them both on a nice stack of onion rings, and they each ordered an alcoholic beverage, martini for the girl and Sam Adams for the guy.

After getting them their onion rings, and taking their orders for the night, I turned my attention to the poor old lady who was hit in the head with a ceramic bowl. She was conscious once more, though she didn’t look so tranquil now. I’m sure that table was not pleasant to have as a neighbor, and the flying bowl probably gave her a headache too. She’d probably be getting her meal on the house, with a gift card thrown in.

The teenage group was finishing their meals, and I divided up the checks before handing them out. Turns out there’s seven tickets, all of the guys were friends and all the girls were friends, but only one was a couple. With any luck the next people to take these tables would be a young rich guy that tips over the top.

“Thanks for,” another burp, “Coming to Applebee’s. Have a great night.” I said, as I waved the teenagers out of the store. I collected my tips for the table, 7.50, but only because the guy on the date tipped me four dollars. Everyone else tipped 50 cents. Typical.

The next table to get seated was a family of four, a mother, father, son and daughter. They seriously looked like the perfect image of the american family. The girl was even wearing a dress. She was about four. Her brother two. I went to get him a booster seat.

“Hey, How are we doing?” I said bending down to the table. “Would you like a booster seat so you can sit at the table like mommy and daddy?” The kid nodded his approval. I sat the booster seat down and lifted him into it, scooting the booster back to be next to his sister, who was enthusiastically coloring in the kids menu. I stood up straight. “My name is Marti and I’ll be your server today.” I said, addressing the parents.

“Hi Marti. We’ll take cokes all around. And and I’d like an appetizer of Dynamite Shrimp with a side of guacamole.”

“Dynamite Shrimp with a side of guacamole and four cokes, two of which are kids?”

“Correct.”

“Great, I’ll be right back with those drinks.” I said, walking off to place the order and wondering who in the world orders guacamole with shrimp.


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