To Serve And Annoy....

There are 4 types of waiters/waitresses in the world. Actually, there may be more than 4. But, for purposes of this conversation, I have narrowed them down to 4. If you would like to expand the list, go get your own blog. This is my blog, so there are only 4. Deal with it.

They are:

The Good Waiter/Waitress

These are the ones who take your order, make sure your drink is filled, bring you your food as fast as they can, or at the very least let you know what the status is, and then bring you your check in a timely manner. They get a big tip. Sometimes, I may even hug them. Don't hold your breathe on that one, though. I hug VERY few people. But, there aren't that many good waiters/waitresses in the world. So, in a moment of weakness, I may press my body against them. Don't read anything into it.

The Bad Waiter/Waitress

These people just plain suck. They are rude. They hate their job. They hate you for making them do their job. They get the order wrong, but expect you to eat it anyway. Then, when you have the nerve to ask for a drink refill, they make it seem as though you have asked them for a vital organ. These people, much to the embarrassment of my wife, get NO TIP. Zero. Nothing. I don't care about how little money they make. If they want to make more money, they should do a better job. If they did, they would get bigger tips, and make more money. So, as far as I'm concerned, they can suck it.

Waitresses Who Make A Fuss Over Your Baby

Please note that I said WAITRESSES. Not WAITERS. Waiters who make a fuss over your baby come off as either creepy, or gay. Or, even worse, the dreaded gay/creepy combination. You can imagine them giving away balloons, at the park, just because. They don't have kids of their own. They just want to give balloons to all the kiddies. It creeps me out. But, when you have a waitress, they can tell you how cute your baby is, and talk to them, and smile at them. This works especially good on moms. Particularly NEW moms. They can even be a lousy waitress. Your kid could be ugly. They could bring a big, rare steak to a vegitarian. As long as they make goo-goo eyes at your baby, they will get a nice tip. Like I said, I think it's a chick thing.

The Waiter Who Will Try to Engage You About Sports To Try And Pad Their Tip
God forbid you wear ANY sports paraphenalia when you land this dork. He will chew your ear off, because he happens to be an expert on sports. Even though you are there to enjoy a meal with your family, the "Sports Guru" will make everyone else wait while he shares his encyclopedic knowledge about a local sports team with you. Hell, he will make your FOOD wait, while he tells you about a game he went to when he was 4. He a dork, and you just want him to go away. He will get the bare minimum tip.

It was the last guy that I ended up with, when I took my family out, the other night. In truth, it was my fault. I mean, what was I thinking when I put my Jets hat on? Clearly, I wanted to have a detailed conversation about EVERY JETS GAME THAT EVER TOOK PLACE, when I decided to wear my hat, and take my family out to get food. So, really, it was all my fault.

I could tell RIGHT when he started talking.

Waiter: Jets fan, huh?

Me: Huh? Oh, the hat. No, not a huge fan. Just wanted a hat, and this one fit.

Waiter: Cool. Who was thier coach when they won the Super Bowl?

Me: Uhhh....I dunno. Like I said, I'm just wearing the hat.

Waiter: Whaddya think of Sanchez?

Me: Uh, well, he's good. I'm a big USC fan. I'm from Southern California. So, I hope he does well.

Waiter: Yeah, could be the year, huh?

Me: I...Uh...I dunno.

Then, he went away, and I was happy. It had been a long week, and I wasn't going to see my daughter this weekend, because she's going camping with the girl scouts. So, I just wanted some family time, with my little girl. This was not going to happen, however, with Super Fan waiting my table.

He came back to get our drink order.

Waiter: Weeb Ewbank.

Me: What?

Waiter: Weeb Ewbank.

Me: Okay....

Waiter: He was the coach when they won the Super Bowl.

Me: Uh...Okay.

Waiter: Beat the Colts.

Me: Yeah....

Waiter: But, you already knew that, huh?

Me: Actually, I think I might have.....

Waiter: Namath made that prediction.

Me: Yeah....

Waiter: Broadway Joe.

Me: Uh, yeah.

Waiter: What can I get you to drink, Namath?

Me: I...Uh...Namath?

Waiter: Yeah, Broadway Joe.

Me: Uh....I'll just have a diet coke.

Waiter: Gotta maintain your playing weight, huh Namath?

Me: Sure.

Then, he went away. And, for the rest of my meal, I would be referred to as "Namath." You see, since I was wearing my Jets hat, I was CLEARLY a HUGE fan of the guy who won the Super Bowl, 9 months BEFORE I was born.

You got it.

There was more of the same when he brought the drinks. Instead of a lemon, my diet coke had a lime in it.

Waiter: You see that I put a lime in there, instead of a lemon?

Me: Yes, I did see that.

Waiter: Because it's green.

Me: I noticed.

Waiter: Like the Jets.

Me: Yes, just like the Jets.

Waiter: Not the same shade, but close.

Me: It is, at that.

Waiter: I got your back, Namath.

Me: Thank you. That's making me feel all warm inside.

Waiter: Ha-Ha!! I got a Jets fan, wise-ass, here. That's a good one, Namath.

Me: Thank you, so much.

And, that's the way it went. For the entire meal. Everytime he came back to our table, he would randomly spout some Jets fact, that I didn't know, or care about. It was almost as though he had "Jets-Tourette Syndrome," and it was just lucky that a guy in a Jets hat showed up, or he would have gone nuts and shot the place up.

He took our food order:

Waiter: 16-7

Me: Huh?

Waiter: 16-7. That was the score of the Super Bowl, when the Jets won.

Me: I'll be damned.

Waiter: Ha-Ha!! Yeah.....

Then, he brought us our food. Even though it was been well established that I DO NOT like vegatables, I was presented a small bowl of....Ready?.....GREEN BEANS!!!!!

Do you know WHY?

Well, because they are GREEN, of course.

And, WHO ELSE IS GREEN?

That would be the Jets.....

And, WHO is a HUGE Jets fan?

Not me. But, since I was stupid enough to wear my hat, I was being assaulted by my own waiter.

Waiter: 17 for 28, for 206 yards.

Me: Let me guess.....Uhhhh....Were those Namath's stats for the Super Bowl?

Waiter: Ha-Ha!! Yeah, of course YOU know that. What was I thinking, huh?

Me: Yeah, after all they were MY stats. You know, since I'm Namath, and all.

Waiter: THAT'S RIGHT!! HA-HA!!! I'll get your check.

Then, he brought the check, and the "Jets-Tourettes" kicked in, again.

Waiter: Jim Turner.

Me: Jim Turner?

Waiter: Kicked 3 field goals to help win the game.

Me: Ahhh...Got the internet back there, do ya'?

Waiter: Ha-Ha!! Well, we can't ALL know everything about the Jets, like you, Namath.

Me: Yeah, just like me.

Waiter: Hey, good luck this season. You folks have a good night. Don't stiff me, Namath. I hear Jets fans are bad tippers. HA-HA!!!

I tipped him 15%, because he annoyed me, and my wife glared at me for it. On the way out, my daughter told me that he thought the waiter was weird. My daughter and I are a lot alike.

When we got out the door, there was a trash can. For just a moment I thought about throwing my Jets hat into it. But, then nobody would call me Namath, anymore, and I don't know if I want to live like that.

I'm going to start wearing my Kermit hat, again.

Casey