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waitronunit [userpic]

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October 25th, 2010 (09:44 am)

 


This is a test for other ventures. Sanity now.

waitronunit [userpic]

Christmas

October 25th, 2009 (12:50 am)

The local Safeway put up their Christmas trees two weeks ago. There is this queasy combination of Santa and Saw (the movies) going on in the lobby. It is slasher movie slash season of giving.  Orange, black, red, green, cob webs and tinsel. Motion detecting devices set of maniacal laughs and Jingle Bells. This all makes me want to bake a Snicker's fruit cake.

I have been thinking about Christmas lately anyway. I have been thinking of coming clean and posting a comprehensive Christmas wish list for all of my  out of town relatives. It would be a display of the differences between my needs and desires, ending in a clear argument for why they should just send their middle aged relation/student/waitronunit some money.

I need to go edit a paper that I hate.

It is snowing outside!!!



waitronunit [userpic]

The Economy Of Lobster

October 20th, 2008 (06:57 am)

I cannot sleep.

The restaurant was packed tonight. We invited anyone with an email address with us to come in and enjoy a half off  live whole Maine lobster. $15.95. We went from an average of ninety reservations while offering a dinner special to two hundred and ninety. The anticipation of the probable hell was head ache and panic inducing. I worked a long brunch and then slid right into dinner. Dinner started with a petrified manager clutching rain checks and seating the lucky few who would actually benefit from such a short sighted offer from our chef. We only had around one hundred lobsters in stock.

In this economy? Folks got dressed up and made the trip all the way out to our place, on the outskirts, if you will, nestled in a "plaza" and across the street from a "square". They were coming out to the famous fish joint, with the history of knowing their stuff and a reputation of mentioning that fact over and over again. Recently, when someone felt that service was taking too long, they could be heard shouting to a manager, "We just should have gone to Red Lobster!". From what I understand, everyone should probably go anywhere than where they are. In this economy, I think that people would just like to go ahead and do that, whether they really know it or not.



The floor re-opened for dinner at four thirty. We were on a count at twenty lobsters at five minutes to six, just as I was seated with three two tops at once. Out of blind anxiety, I went to each table, asked if they were tempted by lobster, rattled off the side dishes, probably forcing everyone into some rash decisions, and  was upfront about the need to hurry to make sure that they would get what they wanted. I raced to the computer and watched my index finger rattle and fly around the screen, missing its marks and deleting and allowing my brain to just go ahead and live with having put everyone on the same table. When I finished imputing, we had three on the count. Though I was suspicious of how successful I was at securing everyone's dinner, I went straight to each table and announced, with all the voracity of George W. Bush on an aircraft carrier, "Mission accomplished! What may I bring you to drink? " Then I helped run about thirty-five lobsters to everyone else in the restaurant waiting for mine to come out.

I did not get seated again-they saw the need to keep letting my volunteer lobster slinging work for them. One time, as I blurred past the lobby with five plates full of red shell fish on my arm, I saw the owner, slack shouldered and intent on one man's words. The man's voice was low, but his lips moved like a jack hammer. He was in a tucked in dress shirt and pleated jeans, his hand in  his pockets and his face jutting out from his neck, less than a foot from the owner's nose. I had already seen him lecturing the manager armed with his pathetic, excuseless rain checks.

It felt like being on the floor of the stock exchange, when it is working, that is.
And even though I am crazy exhausted, in this economy, I still cannot sleep and I wonder if I am actually working.

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