<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3440559\x26blogName\x3dWonder+Boy\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://wonderboyblog.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://wonderboyblog.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-9208151565435014371', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Life is only what you wonder.

Friday, January 16, 2004

Is It Really So Strange?

I utterly loathe the wintertime.
Now, more than ever, I'm convinced that Hell isn't a place of fire and brimstone, flames searing at your flesh.
Hell is a cold place.
A butt-ugly cold place.
A place of snow, ice and eternal frostbite where you're naked and you shiver forever, unable to find any warmth.
I think I'd actually prefer the fire.
When Robert Frost wrote about fire and ice he knew what he was talking about.

I waited on this really strange family last night at the restaurant. All five of them had smiles like jack o' lanterns. You could maybe, maybe make one full complete set of teeth from all of them. They were really loud and weird, like they didn't get out of the house (trailer?) much.
The one guy who looked like Willie nelson on crack called me over and held up the steak knife that was part of his place setting .
"Whudya call this thang?" he asked.
"It's a steak knife" I answered.
"Hell," he said, "Thet ain't no knife!"
Then he pulled out a huge pearl-handled hunting knife from his belt and opened it up.
"This here is a knife!"
Then he proceeded to cut his steak with it.
I went to the Server Station to tell everybody.
"You won't believe this! A guy at one of my tables took out a fucking hunting knife and is using it to cut his steak!"
So they go look in my section and there he is, hacking away with it.
Afterwards he used it to pick his teeth!
Maybe in some areas this is S.O.P., but I've never seen anything like that in my life.
Before they go I give them a tip tray with individually-wrapped butter mints. Two per person. I'm only supposed to give one per person, but that seems stingy to me.
Anyway, they ask for more, so I bring more,
Then they ask for even more.
I said fuck it and got two salad bowls and filled them to overflowing with mints and put them on their table.
I actually got a good tip from them, so I invited them to come again.
"Y'all come back now, ya hear?"
The moral to this story: It doesn't matter how strange you are, leave a nice tip and all is forgiven.

Speaking of work, I hope I'm in a decent section tonight.
On Fridays, they always stick me in the back of the restaurant and I'm getting sick of it.