turkey, naming conventions, contest
being a regular makes me uncomfortable. like a pervert. especially when you're in that floaty period between person who comes in there a little too often and the person whose own mother didn't attend but has a cadre of bodega workers weeping and throwing themselves on the casket at his funeral.
there's something about walking in the door, night after night, and asking someone to make something for you that you should be capable of making yourself that just feels imposing.
it's like,
"oh great. here comes the girl who orders a turkey burger, pays, accepts her purchase and politely thanks me. EVERY SINGLE TIME. piping hot cup of christ cocoa, WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER??!"
i'd say about 4 out of the 5 guys know me. but they all look alike. and I CAN'T GAMBLE. because then i'm a racist. also i might get the wrong order.
and i can't ask them their names, either, because that's mad patronizing. i had an old boss who used to do that. get everyone's name, the minute he spoke to anyone on the phone.
"hello, who's this? desiree? hello desiree. i'd like three calzones..."
DON'T ASK DESIREE HER NAME. JUST ORDER THE GODDAMN CALZONES. dudes used to do that when i worked at bennigan's. go practice your dale carniege elsewhere. this is not the russian tea room. just eat your jalapeno lobster steak poppers, make a cell phone call, and take a giant shit in the men's room. i'll be in the back smoking pot with the dishwashers if you need me. wait. what's your name? arnold? i'll be in the back smoking pot with the dishwashers if you need me, ARNOLD.
7 comments:
make up nicknames for them. works for people who are just dumb, too. See: GWBush.
I actually really, really like being a Regular. In fact, I love it. I like having a regular order, usual drink, whatever. But it *is* awkward when you decide you want something besides what you've been ordering for the last ninety calendar days. Sometimes, the staff isn't even listening when I order, and I get my usual large black ice coffee instead of my I'm-having-such-a-bad-day-I-need-a-big-fat-mocha-with-extra-whipped cream-and-do-you-have-any-chocolate-sprinkles-back-there? I don't say anything. Does this make me a People Pleaser? It's worth it for an on-the-house drink once in a while, and a relieved grin when every other customer is getting a snarl.
i once had to stop going to a particular gas station because i felt too chummy with the staff
and yet i managed to eat lunch in the same diner every day for a year, where they still refer to me as "yes, please"
I'm sorry, what did you say? I was staring at Ashlee Simpson's tits.
so was her DAD, apparently...
AHHHHHHHH! How did I not notice that until you said it?! AHHHHHHH!
That guy has said so much twisted shit about his daughters in the past that this type of photo is probably one of many.
I'm pleased to say that I didn't recognize either one of them until reading these comments.
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