My weekend (a pictorial part 1)

PART 1: Flair can be deadly

My weekend started with good intentions. Write a little, relax, definitely no nurses, goody trails,* pick-up trucks or pickles were in my plans.

I was supposed to have lunch with an old friend, but she wasn't available to pick up until later, so I bagged it for sushi at the Waterfront.

I know you're thinking "Why wouldn't you make time for the really hot girl?" but to be honest, this town doesn't have a whole lot going for it on the sushi front and I've been jonesing lately.




Besides, next week I can see the girl. I am a little over girls right now. As a wise person once told me: "Eat today, for tomorrow women are still going to be fucking crazy."

Actually, I don't think anyone ever told me that. I'm just having a moment. I have an inability to cope with rejection. That, and I have an inability to cope with waitresses that sit down with me at the table.

As someone who worked in the restaurant business, there are two things I can't stand about servers and familiarity.


1. The sit at the table with me people. What are you, my new best friend? Did I invite you to eat with me? I don't feel more comfortable with my server all cozy and across from me.

Aren't there other people you should be, like, I don't know, working to wait on? O.K., because I'm a guy, a small pass goes out to the really hot girl servers who sit with me.**

And this time, a small pass was given to mine (Lauren).


2. The squat at my table-top people. Now TGI Fridays asks their waiters to try to get their eye level below that of their customers because it gives the customer a sense of power and command in the waiter relationship and studies show it increases tip percentage and satisfaction levels in customers.

However, it makes your waiter look like a fucking squirrel begging for a nut.*** Am I wrong to ask my waiter to try and retain a shred of dignity and professionalism. It's just such a hard business, don't give anything away is what I'm saying, servers.

The job will beat it out of you soon enough.


3. Ha, I've overenumerated you. It is too, a word. Look it up.



That, my friends, is a beautiful plate. Unagi.**** Paradise roll.***** In a quirk of fate, I have discovered you can't bold asterisks.******

We will now pause for a moment of post-lunch agony. When I return, on to buying rubber boots and a tan raincoat. Strangely, I do not make up my life.

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*I didn't know what this was when I first heard the term, but now, a new favorite. I honestly thought it had something to do with Halloween. In retropsect, I was partially right.

**At Hooters, yes I understand this is supposed to be part of their restaurant model. Ironically, the few times I've ever been to that place not one of the girls has done it at my table. It's probably because I put out the same vibe when I'm there as when I'm at a strip club: I just feel slightly sad and embarassed for everybody involved, including me.

***Do not try to feed them. I know they look cute when they look up at you like that. Just trust me. Flair can be deadly.

****Eel. I'll eat anything without eyeballs staring back at me, and even that's not a hard-and-fast-rule.

*****Heh, let me tell you. Things to do in life: 1. Become International Man of Mystery 2. Be Cryogencally Frozen. 3. Travel through Time, Backwards and Forwards......

******I tangent, sue me. Part of the charm.