The Stork

I recently earned a new nick name at work: “The Stork.” You know, that awesome bird that drops newborn babies on people’s doorsteps? (because obviously that’s how babies are made.) How I got this nickname was a result of literally, the worst shift I have ever worked, ever, the shift I like to call “The Baby and The Black Out.”

It started off simple enough. A couple came in with their newborn baby (I’m talking a week old, tops) and asked where would be the best place to set up a high chair so they could put the baby’s car seat on top of it. It was pretty empty in the restaurant, and when they set up in the aisle between two booths, I told them, don’t worry, I”ll work around you.


Midway through their meal, the place started to get busy. As I was hustling around their table to give another table their check, my hip brushed against the highchair and….drum roll…..the highchair toppled, and the carseated baby went flying.

Fortunately (and fortunately is an understatement), the baby was strapped into the carseat, and let’s face it, carseats are meant to get bumped around in the event of an accident. Surely crash test dummies have also tested the effects of waitresses as well as large vehicles hurling towards them. After getting over the initial shock, the parents calmed down, got their baby to stop crying, and were incredibly nice throughout the meal. The fact that they tipped me after I nearly killed their child was quite generous, I thought.

Think the shift is over? No. It keeps going.

After now officially earning the name “The Stork”, because according to my co-worker, I “drop babies”, I hoped things would return to normal. I went to the back to grab some menus when I banged my knee right against the pressure point against a very sharp corner. It was some of the worst pain I have ever felt in my life, and I’ve been tattooed multiple times. After a few minutes, I started to feel woozy. And a couple minutes after that…..

Yes….I blacked out. Apparently, this is something that can happen to people when they are in extreme pain. Having never had this experience, I thought for a moment I was losing my mind.

There is an upside to all of this baby dropping and blacking out though. I now know, no matter what happens during my shifts from now on, nothing can ever compare to the time I almost killed a newborn, blacked out, and hallucinated unicorns caring for me in my time of need.

They don’t pay me $8.00 an hour for nothing.


Twenty Something Waitress


“Just Say No”

When I was growing up, there was that turning point in childhood where the dangers of peer pressure were starting to become more and more imminent.  As a school-wide initiative, they set aside one day in class to teach all the 4th graders about the concept of “Just say No to Drugs.” I learned, along with many of my classmates, to Just Say No, loud and proud. It was 1992, I was nine, and clearly, I was about to succumb to the rampant use of crack cocaine on the school junglegym at any moment.

Probability wise, you know at least one student had to be absent from class that day. Multiply those absent students by hundreds upon thousands of classrooms learning the Just Say No campaign across America, and you will have the amount of people who now, as adults, don’t know how to Just Say No to a drug they never warned us about—our most absurd desires and demands. And where do these adults end up, you wonder? They end up in my restaurant, sitting at a booth as I hover above them, waiting for some kind of thing that resembles common sense to come out of their mouth, and instead feeling like I am being bashed repeatedly in the head with a cave man’s club.

Take today’s daily crisis:’

Continue reading

Twenty Something (Pirate) Waitress

Dear Friends,

In the spirit of the Halloween season which is now upon us, look no further than Twenty Something Waitress for all your costume ideas.

Here’s what a child’s pirate costume looks like:

Here’s what a waitress looks like:

And here was my interpretation of a Pirate Waitress in the Halloween of 1993:

Yeah. That’s me on the right.  Continue reading

I’m not the socially inept one…

I’m beginning to think that some of my customers think I’m mentally retarded.

Exhibit A: Well meaning but slightly neurotic 20-ish girl who comes in at least three times a week, fidgets in her booth sit for the entire meal, and looks like she is going to ask me for the check even before she has placed her order. It makes me a little nervous, and has not helped her earn any points on the customer likeability scale.

Yesterday she came in with a friend, and displayed her usual annoying, fidget like qualities. As she approached the register to pay, she whispered to me, “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to tip you very much because I hardly have any money…. But I come in here all the time.”

This caused a great deal of confusion for me.

I wasn’t quite clear how to respond, for many reasons. But here’s what I would LIKE to have said in response, sentence by sentence.

I’m sorry I’m not going to tip you very much.” Continue reading