I think I had 9 tickets going at once at one point yesterday. I know all but two tables were full and I was on my own. Everyone got fed. I didn’t get too weeded. No one complained. So I guess I am getting the hang of this.
Then, while out on a date last night, I saw a table of people I had served earlier. My date did not believe I recognized the customers because, as one who is in the biz, he says he always thinks he recognizes guests everywhere. But then I told him the nuances of what they ate (fries no chips for two, fries for one, one extra side of slaw, two ice teas, one Bud Lite) and how they wanted to split the check, but I forgot to do it–he thought I might be right. Ya think?
He laughed and got the group’s attention, telling them he had seen them at my restaurant when he was eating there and how the food was great but the service sucked. Very funny. But the customers had no clue their beloved, adorable waitress was me, and they said, actually, they thought the service “was okay.”
Geez, it’s such a small town, I think I see my customers everywhere–and I really do.
The new owners are begging me to stay on, having got wind of my catering, event planning and journalism backgrounds. “I’ve seen your resume,” laughed the new owner. I did not laugh back. I was too perplexed as to how he had seen my resume. No one has ever seen my resume at the restaurant.
“My sister is on the board of the yacht club, where you applied to for a job last week,” he laughed some more. “She called and asked if that was the same RG who was working for me, and how you had incredible experience.” Yeah, just not as a waitress. But wait, your sister? A board member? She saw my resume?
Good Lord. No wonder the yachties never called me back for a second interview. Oh well, the new owners seem to want me to hang in. And I’m making money and feeling more comfortable. But small-town stuff, yes?
My date doesn’t live here, but he’s down here all the time and he knows everyone. I am sure my being out to dinner with him will cause a slight stir with the local boys. But it’s so low-key, so small-town in these parts, there’s not much to really tell. “Hmm, she ate grilled fish, he paid.”
“But is it too quiet down there, too small of a town?” asked my pilot girlfriend from Fort Lauderdale when we talked on the phone yesterday.
It’s really quiet. Most nights I am asleep by 9.
It’s very small. I may not know everyone, but they all seem to know about me and where I work and how I just got to town and so on and on.
Too quiet? Too small? Maybe. Right now, though, it’s close to just about right.