one too many
student by day, bartender by night. the rants and raves of your bearer of beer.
hey old guy, it's 2009. get with the program.
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Me:
hey, how ya doin?
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Gramps:
[nothing, stares at me]
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Me:
can I get a drink for you?
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Gramps:
I'm sorry?
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Me:
Would you like a drink, sir?
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Gramps:
I want a burger.
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Me:
Okay, what kind of burger?
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Gramps:
Pardon?
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Me:
What kind of burger would you like sir?
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Gramps:
[blank stare]
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By this time I'm annoyed and my patience died three minutes before he even walked in. Homeboy has been at the bar at least three times before and I feel like I'm being punk'd. I took a menu, flipped to the burgers, set it in front of him and walk away to take care of the 17 other people at the bar and pour the number of drinks for the waitresses before returning to him.
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Me:
Figure out what you-
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Gramps:
(cuts me off) I'll have the Black and Bleu burger. Well. With fries, crispy.
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Me:
(pissed) Okay. What kind of fries sir?
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Gramps:
Excuse me?
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Me:
Straight, curly or sweet potato fries.
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Gramps:
[nothing]
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Me:
Regular fries. Curly fries. Or sweet potato fries.
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Gramps:
I'm sorry, what?
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I repeat myself two more times. Talking extremely loud and slow, like I do to my senile 90-year-old grandmother. He decides on straight fries (like he always does) and asks for "a glass of Coors Light." You got it, buddy. Twenty minutes later he has his food and all seems well. While I'm making my rounds (busy), he grabs my attention, beckons me overs and asks, "Did you love Michael?" Uhhhh.. I reply casually with "Of course, who didn't?" repeat myself three times, and cash him out. Thirty minutes of annoying bullshit for no tip. Imagine that.
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A word of advice to our dearest elders:
I know you're older than dirt and have a tendency to forget things, but when you go out to a restaurant, bring your reading glasses, turn up your hearing aid, and leave a goddamn tip.
