fancyd

I got the asshole of the week award early, reverse back to Wed . Service started up and we have like 3 checks on the board, Brett asked the food runner why table 9 (wine room) hadn't ordered any appetizers, Adolfo looks at Brett like he sprouted s third head, of the 3 checks on the board 2 were for table 9, it was obvious that the newest check was their 5 & 6th courses, they had already eaten 4 of the 5 on the new check..light dawns in Bretts eyes and he sates the obvious....Everybody kinda stops and looks around, making sure we all absorbed the stupidity for a second, I couldn't resist, I let loose a loud "WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER!".....la familia bursts out laughing, I giggle, but poor Brett, man his face was crest fallen....you cannot, I repeat absolutely cannot be sensitive in the kitchen, everybody is an asshole !! But we all have bad days. So I felt bad for about 30 seconds, and then let it go, he didn't though, but that his problem.

Then Thursday morning, I walk in to work, doing a double, some luncheon deal, and Gerry opens the door. Smiles. He communicates in the simplest ways sometimes. I love people that don't have to talk to convey something. I like conversation, but ceaseless chatter drives me batty. My best friends all know that silence is not uncomfortable. I probably write more here in this journal than I say out loud. I like being quite and observing, but I also like being a smartass. It is a compromise thing. The wisest thing I learned was to keep your mouth shut and eyes/ears open.

"Silence is often misunderstood, but never misquoted'


Funnily enough, when Brett walked in the door, Gerry opens the door, and yells (in a redneck southern accent) "I don't fry chicken anymore !"
He kept saying that the entire luncheon. It was hilarious !!


Rewind, back to Thurs, I was in dish pit scrubbing up some pots/etc and one of the servers is clearing plates from the dessert from the luncheon and just stacking em on eachother. Typically they should scrape the remains in the trash and then stack em. "Dave is there not a trash can over there?" He looks at me and puts on what I am sure he feels is his most charming smile and says "why yes there is, thank you for asking." I looked him dead in the eye, no smile, eat shit and die server look in my eye and sweetly say 'it's my pleasure'...he was already getting on my last nerves when I was garnishing the soup course....kept trying to grab the plates before I was finished. "Dave, if your arms are in my way, then I can't finish the plate....

But here is the kicker of the Dave thing yesterday, all the servers went to a pub down the road between meal periods and started drinking, I was smoking a stogie when some of them came back and they came over and started talking with me. Some of them meander away and suddenly it is just Dave and I. He strikes up some unintelligible conversation, the preclude to the question...and then finally the hammer drops...'we should go out some time D, you should let me take you to dinner or something'....I am thinking this guy is a moron and a fucking masochist. I am familiar with those types, who like women to spit on them and treat them like shit, it makes me sick to my stomach, so I resisted the urge to say something vile, and politley declined the offer.

First off all I dont shit where I eat. Second I look at professional servers and think they are mostly sorry sacks of shit. I mean come in, your almost 40 and all you have done with your life is wait on tables?!?! Get some vision!!!! Have a dream !!! Don't waste your life on cheap drugs and being in constant servitude. Man I wanna meet the server who is proud but working to something better. There is an art to service, I respect those people like butlers.maids.etc. But I only respect the ones who have some class about it.....anyways....more to say ....but I got to go !!

Everybody have a great weekend !!!



Remember "I don't fry chicken anymore !!"