Showing posts with label New Jersey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Jersey. Show all posts

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Ahh, New Jersey, How Do I Love Thee?

My first day back to work after three weeks off was as special as I had hoped it would be. I got a ten top from New Jersey who wanted separate checks. Ten. Separate. Checks. What the fuck, New Jersians? New Jerseyites? What in the hell do they call themselves anyway? There are New Yorkers and Texans but what are people from New Jersey? For now, I'll just call them assholes. I convinced the assholes to find a partner so I could give them five checks instead of ten and they were okay with that, but fuck they were on my nerves. The women looked like rejects from The Real Housewives of Poor White Trash New Jersey. They had come all the way into the big city to live it up in my station.

One lady wanted a glass of wine. "Hmmm, do you have white zinfandel?" Why was I not surprised at that request? "Yes, ma'am, we do. Is that what you'd like?" She tilted her head to think about it and as she tilted it, I was pretty sure I could see part of her brain slipping out of her left ear trying to escape and see the light of day. "That's like a rosé, right?" It isn't, but I told her it was pink and she was satisfied. When I brought it out, she told me she had an idea. This is what it looks like when someone stupid has an idea. Do the following: tilt your head, purse your lips, raise your eyebrows and inhale all at once. Did you do it? Do it again. This is what she did and then said, "bring me a drop of seltzer, a drop of ice and a lemon wedge. I'm gonna make me a wine spritzer." After she farted out that idea she looked around for validation like she thought someone would bestow the Pulitzer upon her for such brilliance. She thought she just invented the wheel. Instead, she had just reaffirmed that I hated her.

Another lady wanted a bite to eat. "Maybe I want hummus." But she pronounced it who-miss. This is the conversation she had with herself and the people around her who pretty much ignored her. "Do I want whomiss? I dunno. Honey, do I want whomiss? Would you eat whomiss if I bought a whomiss. I dunno if I want whomiss or not. Do I like whomiss? Would anyone wanna split a whomiss wid me if I bought a whomiss? I think I wanna try the whomiss." She ordered the whomiss. But first, "Are the pita chips fried? They aren't fried, are they because I don't want fried." I assured her that we do not fry the pita chips. Which is true. All we do is open up a bag of pita chips. Maybe someone else fries them, but we surely don't.

They ended up tipping me pretty well and they all ordered their two drink minimum. When they left, their glasses had huge lipstick smears on them and the air wreaked of spray tan and Britney Spears' Curious Eau de Parfum available at K-Mart for $20.64. I was back at work. Life was good.

And seriously, what do people from New Jersey call themselves? And people from Massachusetts too while you're at it.


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Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Dear Lady at Table 32,







Here is a brief list of all things I wanted to say to Table 32 a few days ago:


  • Do you really need to be reseated that many times in order to find the perfect seat?
  • It's tacky to tip the host and then still complain about where you're sat.
  • The drink has Blue Curacao in it, so yes it is actually going to be blue.
  • The Real Housewives of New Jersey asked me to tell you to give them their accent back.
  • That blouse looks like it came from the $5 and under bin at Chico's.
  • Black is not slimming.
  • You have on way too many sequins. The only person wearing that many sequins should be on an episode of "Toddlers and Tiaras" or be named Liza Minnelli.
  • You don't need to call me over to hand me an empty glass. I will get it when I have a free hand.
  • I see that your reservation was for two but you are alone now. You don't have to tell me that you decided to take yourself out tonight. It's obvious that your husband bailed on you and is at home relishing the two hours of solitude and trying to recall what it's like to not have his ears bleed from the sound of your voice.
  • Your hair is scaring me. And scarring me. For life. Frosted is not pretty.
  • You don't need to call me over to hand me another empty glass. I will get it when I have a free hand.
  • Do you really need more napkins or are you just trying to think of something to ask for every time I walk by you?
  • Seriously bitch, stop calling me over to take empty shit from your fucking table.
  • Using the phrase "it's a delight" does not make you sophisticated. It makes me think you heard it on that episode of "The Three Stooges" when they were plumbers at that fancy party and that one snobby rich lady said it.
  • Using the phrase "it's a delight" more than six or seven times makes me think you are supremely dumb and a trifle desperate.
  • Yes, I can get you an order of hummus and chips.
  • Yes, I can get you more chips.
  • I see you waving me down again. Let me guess. Your plate is empty and you want me to take it. Stop it.
  • The people next to you are sick of hearing you talk. They don't know you and don't want to be your friend.
  • Yes, I will get your check for you. You don't have to ask me for that. It's on my list of things to give to you along with a dirty look and a fist up your puss.
  • Yes, we take American Express. Your American Express card does not impress me. It's a green one.
  • You looked stupid when you took a picture of the performer after her show and told her she was "a delight." Enough with that phrase already.
  • I hate you. You annoy me. Don't come back.
Things I actually said to Table 32 a few days ago:

  • Can I take your order?
  • Yes, ma'am.
  • Good bye.

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