Maybe you have heard that I have a new job and that it sucks big hairy donkey balls that have been shaved with a rusty razor. The restaurant is well-known and celebrities seem to flock to the place. In my short week there, I have seen famous chef Wolfgang Puck, famous lesbian finance guru Suze Orman and world renown pop star Katy Perry. I served Katy Perry on my first day out of training. As if your first day out of training isn’t stressful enough, I have to have the managers breathing down my neck to make sure I cater to the every whim of Katy Perry. As it turns out, she was polite, friendly, sweet, down to earth, kind and patient. All the things that my managers are not.
When she sat down with her circle of five friends, I decided I would treat her just like I do every other person in my station: like a person. Because that’s what she is. A person. Who eats food. The table ordered and then Katy (I call her Katy, because we’re close like that.) asked if we had mashed potatoes. “Um, I know we do for dinner, but I have feeling that we won’t have them this early in the day. Lemme check and I’ll let you know, okay?” I went up to manager Holly Hobbie and another manager who I have not written about yet (long story short: she’s a bitch too.) “I have a table that wants mashed potatoes. Do we have those for lunch?” “No,” said Holly Hobbie. “Oh, okay, because Katy Perry was asking-” Other Manager interrupted me. “Oh, is it for Katy Perry? Katy Perry wants mashed potatoes? I will go ask the kitchen if they can make mashed potatoes for Katy Perry since Katy Perry wants mashed potatoes.” She zoomed off as if the world’s very existence was at stake. Holly Hobbie let her glasses slide down her nose and said, “In the future? You should always say? Katy Perry wants mashed potatoes.” (I don’t know why so many of these managers say everything as a question, but they do.) Got it. So the next time anyone at lunch asks for mashed potatoes, I should say Katy Perry wants mashed potatoes. Other Manager came back from the kitchen looking like she had just had her stomach punched, completely defeated. “We don’t have any mashed potatoes. You’ll have to tell Katy Perry we don’t have them. I tried, but the chef just doesn’t have them. We would try to do it for Katy Perry if we could. Now if Joe Schmo wanted potatoes then…” I finished her sentence for her. “No potato for Joe Schmo!” I laughed and turned to walk back to my station. Other Manager called at me to return. With dead seriousness she said, “I’m serious. No mashed potatoes for Joe Schmo.” Wow, she was for real.
I went back to my dear personal friend Katy to break the bad news to her. “Yeah, just as I suspected we only have mashed potatoes at dinner and they’re just not ready yet.” And how do you think Miss Katy Perry responded? Like a normal person, she said, “Oh, okay. That’s totally cool. Just fries then.” I always thought I liked that Katy Perry chick and now I know for sure. She’s cool. I want to send her a big tub of mashed potatoes from KFC just to say thank you for being a friend.