How it all started

After five eight-hour shifts of training and, one week of classroom instruction, this first time waiter was, finally ready to begin his career at the tables. Now to make my own money and not have to give it to the person who was training this very special waiter, I thought with a smile. It was Sunday morning, a slow start in most restaurants. However, I was glad to start making cash as the bills were piling up at home, so I did not care about the hours. Besides, I needed to buy my son new shoes for school and this was the game plan to do just that after my first eight-hour shift.

Lee, party of one, table thirty five, the host came over and said to me. Great, I am on my way to money I said to myself with a smile and headed for the table. Approaching the table of one, I had my story down pat. Trained by some of the very best; heck everyone told me so. I would do just fine the managers' looked on as I made my way to the table, a smile on their faces as their newest rookie was about to greet his first customer. Stand back folks, there is a new waiter in town.

"Hi, my name is Lee, I will be taking care", and before I could finish the party of one raised her head from somewhere in her fur jacket and screeched like cat claws being dragged down a black board, "Do you have any nibblets?" Oh, no what are nibblets? Where were nibblets on the menu? Looking down at my very first guest huddled in the corner of the booth as if she was trying to get away from me. Popping her head back out of the fur cave, she repeated he request "nibblets." This time, she also starts snapping her fingers as she waved them in the air back in forth in front of her mouth like some sort or mariachi dancing lobster trying to feed herself, as she brought the snapping claw-like fingers to her mouth.

Looking down at the lobster guest at this point, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. This master of indecision just stood there pen and note pad hanging in my hand wondering if my eight-hour shift was up yet. Thankfully, the lobster started to drag the cat across the black board again as she screeched "Brrrreeeeaaadd and butter." I want "Nibblets" again, the lobster screeched, snapping with her claws pointing to her crustacean mouth in the process of her waving frenzy.

Now we were getting somewhere. The shoes are as good as on my son's feet. Smiling now, this master of animal whispers asked the lobster woman if she would like a drink with her nibblets. Waving me away from the table with her left claw as the guest pulled her lobster head back into the fur cave the words "nibblets" echo ever so slowly out of her cave like woolen hood.

What the lobster woman taught me that day was something that for years I would tell anyone I would train in this most glorious profession. ~ Never ever, take it personal. ~

Awkward but true stories

It never ceases to amaze me that folks in a major crisis will show up at a table to air all of the dirty laundry in such a place as a restaurant. Sure, I know what you are saying right now: "Folks will not act out in public" so it is a safe place to meet and chat in safety and no chance of embarrassing confrontations. Man, you are so wrong.

"Do you think I am beautiful?" Without a doubt one of the most awkward and at the same time saddest tales from the table I have ever witnesses. A family of five consisting of Mom, Dad, both in their late forties, two sons and a daughter; all the children were of college age. The family sat at one of our most prized half-circle booths in the back of the restaurant. As I approached, they quieted down a bit. The mother looking down at the table tears running slowly down her face. "It's always a toss-up to me, what is worse, crying or breast feeding makes me the most uncomfortable approaching a table".

Sitting between her two sons' shoulders touching as if the young men were offering her protection from whatever was happening at that moment. There was a lot of tension at this table of five. Reading the mood of a table is one of the most important things any waitperson must master in their quest for the tip. This pointed headwaiter had become wicked good at doing so. And this mood was anger and so much sadness.

Evening folks, my name is Lee and I will be taking care of you tonight. "Excuse me," mother stuck between the bookend sons blurted out in a desperate quiet pleading tone. "Mom, stop it!" the left bookend son interrupted. Since the mother was not a child, waitpersons are usually obligated to answer requests from adults. Yes, ma'am how can I help you?" I said. Raising her head, the mother blurted out in a soft tone. "Do you think I am beautiful?" Looking at the mother you are stunning ran through my head. Long brown hair, high cheek bones, sad blue eyes from her crying and quite a body for any age women. "Yes, I checked her out on the way to the table." But this pointed headed waiter is not a fool and just blurted out. "Excuse me ma'am." Now the daughter chipped in. "Mother, just stop it right now." The father just turned his head, wanting to be anywhere but here right now from his look. Brushing off her daughters' request. The mother repeated her request to me.

"Do you think I am beautiful?" Any waiter knows when they must answer a question, and this was a time to answer this question. Turning my attention into a narrow mode as the horror of the rest of the family had brought them all to silence, the sad woman pleaded for my answer. "Yes, I think you are stunning and quite a woman. Yes, you are beautiful," I offered. Still looking just at the woman, not sure what was to happen next.

"What do you think of a man who would cheat on a woman who stood by him for years, raised his kids and worked hard to give him a great family? And stood by him no matter what?"

"Mom, stop it!" came a chorus of pleads from her three children. However, mom was not done just yet. "Only to find that man was cheating on you with a woman that was his daughters' age!" Glaring at her husband, the woman started to cry again.

Looking back at me, she pleaded for an answer. Well what do you think of a man like that? Taking a deep breath, I said "a man like that sucks." Well, time to go, the daughter said, standing with the rest of the family and heading quickly for the door. The two sons arm in arm with the mother in tow between them. The father was already out the door.

"Hey guys, welcome!" Without a doubt, this was one of the most head scratching moments at the tables. A busy Friday was at hand when I approached a party of two with my customary busy night greeting "hey guys" how are you tonight. Before this pointed headed waiter could finish my fast greeting. "She is a miss and I am a sir," do you get that?" Came the command from the left chair in a kind of mainly voice.

Coming from the owner of the voice was a glare that this nitwitted waitperson would not forget for years to come.

"Did you hear me?" repeated the almost manly voice. Yes, I heard you tough guy. Never say what you think; always stick with the script, is my motto. Yes sir, of course you are a sir and the lady is a miss. Following up this with a "pardon my stupidly look" The almost manly man seemed pretty happy with flexing his muscles in front of the miss and...