Archive for July, 2009

Our Menu Has Two

Posted in In the News, Uncategorized with tags on July 6, 2009 by pageadventurer

Some writers at the Chicago Tribune created a list of phrases to ban from restaurant menus. Quite amusing.

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Fat Kid

Posted in Uncategorized on July 6, 2009 by alimcnally

“Matthew, sweetheart, tell the nice lady what you want,” the trophy-wife woman at Table 3 asked her overweight son.

The kid looked over the menu like it was the first piece of literature to ever fall into his hands. I stood there for about three minutes while this kid looked at the menu, which in table-time translates to three hours.

“Um… I think I’ll have the Pad Thai,” he finally whispered.

The mother shot him a look so intense that it probably gave him, his ‘roid-pumped father, gaunt sister, me and everyone else in the restaurant cancer.

“How large is that portion of Pad Thai?”,” she asked, emphasizing the word “large” while keeping her nuclear glare on her husky offspring.

I showed her using a rough sketch with both my thumbs and forefingers. I tried to cut the kid a break by underestimating it (The Pad Thai’s huge). She looked like she was going murder him.

“Nevermind,” the boy squeaks in defeat. I bet my parents, who live two hours away, could hear this kid’s stomach rumble and think it was the wake of a blitzkrieg. “I’ll have the tofu salad… Dressing on the side.”

“Anything to drink?” I asked.

“A Coke,” he mumbled.

“A Diet Coke,” the mother corrected the boy, giving him another small dose of her eyeball radiation. “I’ll have the same. Dressing on the side.”

The pressure to be thin in this country, particularly among the Yuppie set, is enormous. Then again, America’s obesity rate continues to climb or stabilize in each and every state. Australia thinks this is so funny, that they plastered it on their headline news.

Our country is the butt of a few fat jokes in the rest of the world’s national headlines. And this poor kid’s radioactive mother has absolutely no sense of humor.

Revenge is a Dish Best Served… Flatulent

Posted in Uncategorized on July 2, 2009 by pageadventurer

It’s Thursday lunch and the only three Americans, Mary, Derek and I, are all working doubles. While we all get along with our imported coworkers very well, our interactions are different when it’s just us. Could it be the American Bubble? Nah, I chalk it up to good ol’ pop culture.

“Table 14 is horrendous,” said Derek, our busser. “They are the constipation to my mastication.”

I glanced over at the table of five and just about every preconceived notion of costive customers was confirmed–a group of older, seemingly rich housewives and their variations of Dooney & Bourke handbags. My feminist side wouldn’t allow improper assumptions of rich older women as housewives, so I checked the time. Two o’clock in the afternoon. They’d already been sitting there for almost an hour and so far:

-they had just finished appetizers
-each ordered a glass of chardonnay instead of requesting a bottle
-weren’t paying any attention to their server’s repeated shouting of whether or not they were ready to order entrĂ©es.

“Waiter! Waiter!” one woman yelled across the restaurant, waving her hands around like a mentally-handicapped child who just saw her teacher outside of school. “More wine!”

Yep, definitely housewives. Probably from the same cul-de-sac.

Derek grumbled to himself at the drink station, filling their individually-ordered glasses of wine.

“I’m not going to tell them that it’s a better deal to just order a bottle,” he said. “And when I walk by their table, maybe I’ll leave them a little gas.”

He sauntered away with his tray full of glasses. After passing out the wine, he leaned his butt towards them, giving me a coy look from over his shoulder. I don’t think he actually did it, but I picture the many times I’ve smelled strange odors in public. Could I have pissed someone off to the point of them farting on me?

“I’ve done it before,” said Mary, another coworker.

“Really?”

“I mean yeah, if a table pisses me off enough,” she said, “I’ll just whisk by their table and–fart!”

Mary’s worked there a little longer than me. She knows all the tricks of passive-aggressive revenge for our more unpleasant customers, like bringing out takeout containers instead of boxing up food for them, seating repeating offenders in the worst tables and simply placing the offending tables at the bottom priority. Nothing health-code violating, just subtle reparation. But nothing like farting on a table.

“Don’t they eventually figure out that it’s you?” I asked.

“I don’t care. It’s not like they’re really going to say anything,” she said. “What would they say to me, ‘Excuse me miss, but did you just fart on me?‘”

“I guess that would be stupid,” I said.

“Exactly. I deny it and make them look like the idiots they are,” she said.

I watched her walk towards her tables, checking for a slight grimace from the patrons at said tables. While I didn’t see or hear anything highlighting at particular disturbance, I can’t help but wonder whether my tip averages have gone down due to my asshole coworkers or if it was simply because of poor service.

Just a Quick Note…

Posted in Uncategorized on July 1, 2009 by pageadventurer

If you are trying to hit on me, please at least get my ethnicity right. For example…

Suitor at Table 2: So how long have you worked here?

Almost a year.

Do you like it?

Um… yeah, it’s good. [What kind of question is that?]

So what part of Thailand are you from?

I’m not from Thailand. I was born in Korea and adopted when I was four months old.

Are you sure you’re not Thai? You look Thai.

Yup, pretty sure I’m not Thai.

I walked away shortly after telling this man that I was sure I wasn’t Thai. Getting me to second-guess my ethnicity is not going to get me in the sack. I can guarantee that for sure.

Well, sober anyway.