10 July 2007

reason 9, 639 that i don't have a religion



turns out - I'M NOT REALLY MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!! I KNOW! get this.

i had a table the other night at work. two tennis playing ladies and a friend. they're in their mid-twenties*** and i waited on them one other time. the guy was fun - i think because he doesn't play tennis over there. kidding. anyway, this time they were talking about marriage when i got the the table with their drinks. the guy asks me what age i think people should get married, and if i'm married.

me: "yup. i'm happily hitched, with an awesome wee dude to boot!"
dude: "how old were you?"
me: "30."
dude: "do you think people should wait until they're older?"
me: "i guess it depends, but sure! i'm VERY glad i didn't end up in unity with any of the yahoos from my younger years. i had stuff to figure out first."
girl 1: blank stare
girl 2: blank stare
dude: "see?"

who knows. i often stumble into these conversations.

i go back in and realize i'm a big old liar.
i go back to the table to set the record straight.

me: "ok, i wasn't 30 after all."
girl 1: "oh?"
me: i laugh, "we never remember our anniversary - i have to call my mom! no, we got married when i was 29. no. wait. i was 28"
dude: laughing "which is it?"
girl 2: blank stare
girl 1: "what do you expect from someone that can't remember her anniversary."
me: "welll, it is in october. i know that. see, we had two different ceremonies - i don't have a religion, so my part was just he and i with no one officiating. his part was a short 10 minute deal in the catholic church. so we celebrate the anniversary between the two ceremony dates."
girl 1: "wait a minute! have you ever been baptised?"
me: "nope."
girl 1: "well, you're not really married. the first sacrament is baptism, and if you've never been baptisied then you can't be married in the catholic church. your husband is ruined too because of this."
dude: laughing his ass off.
girl 2: blank stare
girl 1: no! seriously! i looked into it when i was dating this guy i wanted to marry and he had never been baptised so i broke up with him!"
me: thinking, lucky, lucky, LUCKY guy.
me: "so you mean to tell me that not only am i going to hell, but so is my partner?"
dude: laughs so hard beer shoots from his nose
girl 2: blank stare
girl 1: "pretty much. can i order some spinach artichoke dip?"

while i'm inside ringing in the food, they have two others join them. i go back out to the table.

"hi! the heathen is back to fetch you some drinks!"

i. kill. me.

girl 1: blank stare
girl 2: blank stare
girl 3: blank stare
girl 4: blank stare
dude: more beer shoots out of his nose.

i whip out my picture of bebe and ask the girl with the direct hotline to mary and god or whomever, "what does all of this mean for this little guy?"

she replies with a grimace.

me: "oh no! him TOO?!?!?!"

i leave them be. and go back inside to tell my equally heathen co-workers about it and laugh.

this is why i love "guests" like these instead:

the woman has a shirt on that says, "i make up stuff."

LOVED it. i told her that i wanted one, but i wanted it to say, "i make up stuff in my head" since i do that fairly often.

the guy with her thought that was really funny, and we all ran with the fun for a few minutes.

guy: maybe we could just keep adding on to it - i make stuff up. in my head. on tuesdays."
me: "only during odd numbered years."
guy: "while i'm in the bathroom."
me: "scrubbing out the toilet."

you get the picture.

of course i forgot what beer he ordered by the time i made it back to the machine to ring it up. i went back and forth between newscastle and pale ale, in my head, and chose pale. even though it didn't seem right. i took the drinks over.

"this doesn't look like newcastle, it looks like pale ale!"

"it IS pale ale. see? i TOLD you i make stuff up in my head! ahhhh, i LOVE the circular joke that just won't die!" more laughin, more FUN! no hell to banish me and mine to!


*** i'm not carding to be mean. if i do, you look young enough. i'm old, in bar years. we can be shut down and i can have my serving license swiped for all of eternity and be fined if liquor control shows up unannounced and decides to card people randomly - which they love to do. if i've served you and you don't have you i.d. on you - i get to pay more money. no fun. i know you're 22 and you shouldn't be persecuted like this, but...

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22 May 2007

and it all suddenly comes rushing back...

work. oh, sweet work. peaceful kara is missing right now. she is very busy. you have been warned.

while i should be thankful for the cash flow and just keep my pie hole shut... THOSE TENNIS PLAYING PEOPLE!!!! weekly, they make the trek
from their homes to play tennis near the bar... dear tennis people, hear me now!

*i'm not your pet. contrary to popular belief, snapping and/or whistling at me to get my attention will not make me move faster, nor will it magically disappear the other 10 tables i' am waiting on. i have a name. ask for it. use it.

*i know you have all the Latest Most Trendy tennis playing equipment. i can see it as you haul it through the door after your big match in bags that are larger than you--the big match, by the way, that you somehow played without breaking a sweat in 90 degree weather. your perfectly coifed hairs are all still in place, your make-up flawless. but i digress. you really don't need to heap your goods in the pile along with the luggage of your party of 15 other equally as friendly fellow tennis folk in the middle of the walkway. see those other people at the other tables i need to get to and can't? i didn't think so. and how is it that after i ask politely to pass through, you move back to the same exact spot you were in?

*if you don't know what you want and i say, "i'll give you just a few minutes to look at the (one page) menu" - i mean i'll be back in a few minutes. seriously. the time you spend discussing that volley that saved the world could set me back 20 minutes.

*no, you can't "just have" the drinks on my tray that are meant for another table. i promise i'll bring yours after you order and i ring them in.

*we don't have orange slices. is this really a reason to scream at me? i'll be more than happy to give you a list of things that need screaming about if you so desire...


*we're a restaurant. we sell food. when you order extra food, you are charged for it. that's how it works.

*i know we're on The Plazie, but we only have three wines to choose from. red, white and pink. no need to get pissed when i tell you so. there is always the place next door that will sell you a bottle of water for 12 bucks - and charge you $300 to reserve a table. have at it.

*your wallet sized tip card that breaks down the 10 and 15% tip you should leave for the total of your bill does not take into account the 10 times you've one-stepped me. my brilliant wit. my finely honed serving skills. the 2 minute/two bite check back after i've dropped your food. the refill i got you without your even asking. my smiling, sunny face as you verbally spit on me: "what else do you do besides (long, dramatic pause) this???" it is simply a basis from which to begin, a minimum if you will... i make 3 bucks an hour. my tips are subtracted from that pay. there is no such thing as a paycheck. in fact, i will most likely owe money at the end of the year. i see your wad of hundred dollar bills when you pull your wallet out to pay. in fact, you taking a great amount of care making sure that EVERYONE in the place sees your wad. i think that table upstairs missed it - you should go show them too.

*how is it that my two-year-old has better manners than you? please and thank you and excuse me are very easy things to say. it is called Basic Level Of Respect. here - i'll just help you. when you elbow me, causing me to drop a tray of drinks for the nice people that i have FINALLY been able to get to because you held me at the table for 10 minutes while you tried to decide between the spinach artichoke dip and the grilled chicken salad (should you be naughty?) - excuse me or i'm sorry works nicely in these situations. when you barrel into me with your ginormous bag or orange tanning lotioned body, same deal. when you trip me or shove your chair into me... you get the picture... i think? i hope?

*you voted for bush, didn't you? and would do it again, wouldn't you?

see you next week, tennis people. same bat time, same bat place.

ah, the service industry never does really change...

there.
patience restored.
that's better.
carry on.

note: teeheeeheeeeee


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