So I don't know if I have mentioned this or not or even if anyone gives a shit, but I am not waiting tables for a couple of weeks because I am too busy being an actor. That's right. Someone is paying me to put on silly costumes and act a fool up on a stage. This has been the summer of not waiting tables because I have been lucky enough to go from show to vacation to show. Never fear though, because in a couple of weeks I will again have a pen and pad in my hand, an apron around my waist and a razor blade next to my wrists. My show opened last night and to celebrate (and to work off the hangover) I took myself to breakfast this morning in lovely Maryland.
My waitress was Nancy who was great. She had obviously been waiting tables for a long long time. I can imagine her taking orders on a stone tablet with a hammer and chisel when the special of the day was roasted Brontosaurus burgers with a side of Dodo bird. I ordered my breakfast (cheddar and bacon omelet, home fries, rye toast and Pepsi) and it came out moments later. No sooner had I taken the first bite when my gaze fell upon something that took away my appetite and nearly had the tequila from the night before coming up for a visit. No, it wasn't a roach or a mouse or anything so ordinary. It was another waitress. But this waitress appeared to have only one eye. Wait, what? A one-eyed fucking waitress? This lady's left eye looked like it had simply called it quits on that bitch and the skin grew right over it. I kid you not. She saw me looking at her (well, half saw me) and I looked the other way. Now how the hell am I supposed to eat my way through a hangover when I got Cyclops Sally eyeing me down? She walked away but I kept staring at her wanting to make sure that I was not imagining that a woman with purple/grey skin covering her eye had just served food to a table. I think somewhere in Maryland there is an actual pirate museum. Why didn't this lady swing down to the gift shop and pick up an eye patch for $1.99 so diners didn't have to be grossed out every time she attempted to make eye contact? How do you make eye contact with that? I guess it's easier than trying to make eye contact with a lazy eye because in that case you have to make a choice about which eye you want to look at. In this case the choice was made for us: we look at the one eye that is not rotting. I said a little thank you prayer to Martha, the patron saint of waiters for allowing me to have Nancy as my server and not Captain Hook over there in the other station.
I finished my meal with my head down so I didn't accidentally catch the gaze of Ol' One Eyed Wilma. As I went up to pay my check, she was standing there next to the register. She smiled and I said good morning. I wondered how she lost her eye and thought about how much it would cost to stick a marble up in there and pull an old Sammy Davis, Jr or Sandy Duncan. I felt like I should give her some money because in New York City when you see someone like that, they usually have a styrofoam cup in their hand asking for handouts. But she just told me to have a nice day. She seemed nice and friendly and like a really sweet person. I could just tell. I could see it in her eye.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter blog.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.