Girls in Uniform

I laughed ’till I cried today. So did one of the hosts who I am supposedly training to be an ace maitre d’, but she already is, so now we just have fun together.

We LOST it laughing this afternoon.

I laughed so hard I had to excuse myself from the podium, walk into the kitchen, and explain to the GM I wasn’t crying, I was laughing-crying.

“You’re crying!” he said, a little shocked.

“No, really, just laughing too hard.” And then I laughed again, and wiped away more tears.

But you could see him wondering what the hell was so funny at the podium that I was now in the kitchen wiping away tears. Oh, but these were FUN tears. And when I returned to the podium and saw my coworker, I started laughing hysterically all over again, and had to leave, again. I was a mess for 20 minutes.

The scene: 3:30 p.m. Two absolutely, positively knock-out, gorgeous highlighted blonde teenage girls walked in, sporting blazers and rolled up skirts “to there” and untucked collared shirts. I was wearing a tailored suit AND having a good hair day–and they waaaaaay intimidated the hell out of me.

“Um, we’re here to apply for jobs,” one said, but kind of asking, as teenagers do when they are smart but speak like they never know the answer to one damned thing, and thus, always sound like they are asking a question.

Two assistant managers were at the podium, sorting through call-outs and the pre-holiday madness known as “large parties.” They both turned around at the same time and saw the girls. A moment of silence followed. Jaws slacked, nay, dropped. I am telling you, these girls were, um, very pretty.

“Hey, don’t you still need hosts?” asked the one manager of the other, completely serious. Of course, I knew we had as many nighttime and daytime hosts as we needed, but I also knew where this was headed.

“Yes, but maybe not until later in the year. Tell you what,” said the other manager. “Fill out applications, and I can talk to you for just a second, and I’ll put you on my “next hire” list for spring and summer.”

But of course. And we all stood there gawking at these beautiful, smiling girls in semi-awkward silence.

Now, it was up to me and the other host I was training to get applications from a lower cabinet. We both knelt down at the same time, and started giggling. And giggling some more. And then laughing silently so hard that it hurt our sides, and we had to cry.

And thus began the excusing myself from the podium, while the uniformed girls stood there, perplexed, asking for pens to fill out their applications, but nevertheless still very aware of their own beauty (yeah, because you should come prepared with a pen during a job hunt, I would have advised them, but I was dying on the floor, laughing.)

In the end, they left, blank applications in hand. I sort of felt bad that my coworker’s and my hysteria may have sent them out the door, rolling their eyes. It’s true, we were the ones acting like the doltish teenagers.

On the other hand, it was a priceless moment.

The two managers didn’t get the joke, didn’t see the humor. In fact, they frowned at me and my coworker.

Uh huh.

Right.

Not funny.

TOO FUNNY!

Okay, maybe you had to be there.

But here’s what I know: The management job I was asked to apply for at the last minute went to a nine-year veteran. But I am still happy to be a senior staff person. Hell, I’ve only been here 10 days! I was shocked I was asked to apply at all.

And I laughed my ass off today.

The managers didn’t.

I have the job I want.