Get some Bitchy Waiter in your email!

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Tequila on the 16th Floor

Yesterday in New York City was one of those stellar days of weather where I can actually fool myself into believing that this really is the best city in the world. Beautiful blue skies and a light breeze with low humidity meant one thing: find a rooftop deck and get drunk. I took my ass over to the Press Lounge at Ink 48 hotel and went to the 16th floor and got my cocktail on. I ordered the Excelsior which was tequila poured over lime juice and ice with sugar and cayenne pepper garnished with a pepper dusted orange slice. Yeah, it was good, but for $16, it ought to be. The view was stunning and when I got there, the only other people on the deck were those of a movie crew who were doing some location scouting. It was all "and then Sarah Jessica could do this" and "then Sarah Jessica could do that." I assume it was Sarah Jessica Parker they were talking about but for all I know it was the Sarah Jessica Grenburg who works at the Marshalls in Rego Park Queens. The movie crew was a little distracting with all their tape measures and cameras, but one look at the Empire State Building was enough to let it not matter anymore.

After I ordered my second cocktail the deck was beginning to get more crowded. It was full of people who were there using a business Am Ex card. Seated next to us was a group who looked like they were in New York City for some dumb ass team-building workshop for their job. The group started out as one woman who seemed nice enough. She sat down on the couch and patiently waited for her friends or a server. After about five minutes she was joined by two women. One of them was all corporate America bitch with poorly highlighted hair and big clunky jewelry. As as she walked up, she asked the other one, "So how do we get a drink? I'm thirsty." The seemingly friendly and patient one answered, " I saw a waitress, but she hasn't gotten to us yet. I think we just wait." That's right, lady. You wait. But Corporate America Bitch doesn't wait. After about twenty seconds (yes, I timed it) she said, "This is taking too long," and she got up to presumably round up some service. She came back to her seat and said, "Someone told me she'd be right out." After another minute had passed, she was up again. She went right to a busser and spoke to him about getting a waitress. She came back to her seat exasperated as if she had done something really difficult. It's not the Amazing Race, honey. Relax. "Every time, I try to order something, they tell me to sit and wait. I'm thirsty." That's right, lady. You wait. Maybe she didn't see the other people pouring out of the elevator and spilling out onto the patio who also were thirsty. Maybe she was frustrated that her assistant wasn't there who would normally hop right to it when she needed something.

After an eternity, (two minutes) the waitress finally showed up to ask them what they wanted. And guess what: they didn't know yet. That's right. As is typical, these bitches who were in such a fucking hurry to order and were so incredibly thirsty had no idea what they wanted. "Oh, is there a menu? Ummm, lemme see...uh, I think I will have a, ummmm...." The waitress smiled but my x-ray waiter eyes showed me it was a fake one. "I'll have a prosecco," said one lady. "Oooh, prosecco, what's that?" said another. I rolled my eyes on behalf of the waitress who was still fake smiling.

After their drinks came, their group grew large enough to get a little too close to me; one guy sat down on the edge of the couch I was on so now his ass was a few inches away from my hand. I wanted to shove his eleven dollar Amstel Light up it, but changed my seat instead. Their incessant chatting about work and business and leadership exercises made me want to throw them off the deck and onto Eleventh Avenue sixteen floors below. Of course I wouldn't do that because most of them were way too heavy for me to be able to throw off the roof. In addition to the strength it would have taken, it would very possibly mean the end of my time on the deck.

I sucked down the last of my tequila, ate my orange wedge and stumbled to the elevator. By now the roof was full of corporate mid-level management all trying to impress one another. It was kind of disgusting and I made a mental note to always get to this deck at 3:30 to avoid all the bullshit. I took one last look at the Hudson River and New Jersey and then to the other side I glimpsed Times Square only four blocks away. It truly was a spectacular view. Even though the waitress was stuck serving big wig douche bags she at least had the view to help her through the day. And if it ever got really bad, I would suggest an Excelsior in a paper cup underneath the computer. It certainly was the highlight of my day.

(And yes, that is me on the deck with my cocktail firmly in my hand.)




Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.


16 comments:

Julie said...

I love you. You are my people and I am glad to have finally found you. I am a career bartender and have had that happened to me SO MANY times.....Um, Miss...can we get some drinks here?! Sure, babe. I'll be right there. Uh, hello?! Okay, what can I get you lovelies? Um.....well, what's on draft? ... The fuckin' taps are right behind me. This is a sports bar and we are packed to the gills..oh, and by the way, I pretty much know who gets served next....I am not ignoring you, I am being FAIR. Douche. And then it's always something like....A Bud Light. That's what you want....a bud light. That's what you needed to figure out......

KB said...

I like Julie's comment, too. We've all been there...

Lacy Brauner said...

Ma' am!!!
I'm from the south, and I'm not old,I prefer Miss..or my name..
We've been here 15 mins.
Um, no ass wipe, your seats still cold,i watched you sit down, your my third to greet,i just got fed to the wolves.
Are you guys interested in an awesome bloody mary?
We dont know! We need some time.
well, if I'd been sitting at a table for 15 fucking mind, I'd know what I'd want to eat tommorrow..
Hey, bitchy, why is it always the corporate douchers who think they know more then you? Really, they dont know shit, and are used to bossing other corporate monkeys around with' real jobs'
Love my job.hate the clientele some days.

Missy Berry said...

Have I told you lately, Bitchy, that I love you?!

Anonymous said...

Do you think your orange slice was clean?

Anonynonymous said...

Stupid fuck. He knows his orange slice wasn't clean.

OnlyHostess said...

The orange slice was also soaked in tequila. So it was delicious AND he'll live!
...At least as long as his liver tolerates him...

Laura C said...

Yummy, making one or two of those tonight!

Practical Parsimony said...

Did you feel the earthquake?

The Empress said...

You summed those corporate douchetards up perfectly. The horrible dragon ladies are the worst. It must be due to all those bad highlights and horrible team building exercises they equate to having a life.

WJ said...

This painted a picture so well in my mind that I was kind of pissed by the end of it haha. I hate dealing with people like that.

Mary A. said...

I am usually the one providing the team-building training the corporate dictards. The good news is, they always want me to come out for drinks/dinner/etc.

The bad news is, that means I have to sit with them. . .

Ana said...

Thanks for the tip on arriving early in order to avoid the douchebags! It's always 5 o'clock somewhere, right?

Mary said...

I really like your outfit. you dress very well. The view is beautiful. I miss living in the city.

Anonymous said...

Why are you covering your face? In a month aren't we going to see you on Dr. Phil, or are you wearing a paper bag over your head?

sally said...

I have a "friend" like this. It drives me crazy. We both like Mexican food so that's where we always end up, and she always orders a plain maragarita but it seems she can't order it unless the waiter stands there watching her read the margarita menu for five minutes.

So last time we went out I ordered for both of us right away "2 margaritas on the rocks with salt" and gave the waiter a raised eyebrow look that said "I'm paying don't worry about it."

Of course she got pissed about it and complained to me as he walked away. She doesn't like to feel rushed, you see.
Long story short I paid the bill, tipped 30% and that's the last time we will ever be in a restaurant together.
Stupid bitch.