Thank God for the absolutely ridiculous customers at Logan. If it weren’t for them, I might have to go another day oblivious that I’m a 6 out of 10.
Yes, this is what the middle aged man I was waiting on this evening informed me after we had the following interaction:
“What’s up with these fingers, Alison?” (By that he meant the chicken fingers. Obviously.)
“Umm, I’m not sure…uhh, what?”
“They’re weird. Look at them. They’re weird.”
“Well, we use a black bean breading for them, so they’re a little different from standard chicken fingers.”
“You should have told me that! Why wouldn’t you tell someone that? It’s not on the menu!”
At this point, his friend says, “Actually, it was on the menu.” But this doesn’t stop him.
“Alison, what are you going to do about this? I cannot eat these. You should have told me. What do you think this will do to your tip? What am I gonna do about this?"
Sweet. Baby. Jesus. This is my life. I’ll spare you from the rest of that spectacular conversation, but obviously, I offered him something else, we took the chicken fingers off his bill, and the world made sense again.
For a minute, that is. I made the fatal mistake of telling him we used a multigrain bread rather than wheat bread for his sandwich.
He freaked. “What do you mean, Alison? Multigrain? What kind of grains? How can you not know what kind of grains are in this bread?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s just a standard multigrain, like a 7-grain bread you could buy at the store.”
“But what are the seven grains, Alison? Knowledge is power. You need to know things like this if you expect good tips.”
REALLY? REALLY? Knowledge is power?! Yeah, I'm feeling really powerful from all that knowledge I gained at IU right now. Really powerful.
Somehow, all of this insanity led to this man telling me that I was a 6 out of 10—whether he was talking about my waitressing skills or my looks, I have no idea, and care to leave it that way—and telling me that if only I combined my terrific smile with better knowledge, I’d make great money.
When I gave him a look, he said, "What, you think you should be better than a 6?"
This is when I made a last-ditch effort at charm. I smiled my most dazzling smile: "I was hoping for a 10."
Wow, thanks. Guess who left me a $4 tip for all my trouble? (I should have known. He asked me what my name was at least four times before all the craziness started.)
Just when I think I’m rid of this lunatic, he’s back, standing at the end of the bar, waving me over.
I walk over, and he asks me to look up the phone number to a grocery store. Then he yells at me when I tell him we don’t have a phone book.
Can someone call IU and ask for my job back?