This is the story of a very important man. He may even be the most important man in the world. His name is not Barack Obama or Donald Trump or even Jose Cuervo. His name is something that I was not privy too, because he was far too important to share such information with little ol’ lowly me. After all, I was just his waiter. This man was so important that when he walked into the restaurant with his girlfriend he did not feel the need to acknowledge my presence in any way.
“Hello, sir. Table for two?” He walked past me. I followed.
“Two for dinner?” He continued on his way to the back of the restaurant.
“Would you like menus? Are there just going to be two of you?” He headed to the door that leads to the patio, still not hearing me.
Finally, “Hey can we sit on the patio?”
“Yes, sir. Absolutely. Wherever you like.”
He and his girlfriend plopped themselves down at the one table that is not a two-top because he’s so important that he needs extra space for his huge fat ego. I handed them menus.
“Bring me a glass of Chardonnay while she’s deciding what she wants to drink.”
When I returned with his wine, she was ready for he drink. Or rather, she was ready to ask me what I thought she would like to drink. Judging by her decision to spend her evening with the douche bag across the table from her, I ventured she would like the Old Fashion seeing that it, much like her date, was short and squatty and full of a lot of crap. “Oh that sounds good but maybe I’ll have the Blueberry Vodka lemonade.”
The Very Important Man pointed at his almost empty wine glass and then raised his index and second fingers to indicate he is ready for glass number two. That must be “May I please have another glass of chardonnay” in Very Important Man speak. I obliged.
Three minutes later, when I brought their drinks, I saw the man had put on his Bluetooth and was now talking on the phone as was his girlfriend. To me, it sounded like it was a bunch of mumbo jumbo and I did not pay it much attention. What did catch my eye, however, was the fact that in addition to the Bluetooth, he also had a cell phone on the table. Oh did I say a cell phone? I meant cell phones, as in six of them. Yes, this man had six cell phones spread out across the table along wit a key chain that had about forty keys on I. Clearly, this man was the most important man in the world. What other reason could he possibly have for having six cell phones unless he was in the process of making very important decisions like solving world hunger, accepting the vice-presidential nomination and settling the dispute between several Middle Eastern countries? It just happened that the only conversation I heard was about where he had parked his car. Very important, indeed.
A while into their meal, the Very Important Man got up to go to the bathroom to make, what I assume to be, a very important dump. “What’s with all the cell phones,” I asked his girlfriend.
She rolled her eyes. “It makes him feel important. Or at least he thinks it makes him look important.“
“Oh, it’s working,” I confirmed.
“Uh huh, right,” she said with lips pursed and eyebrows raised.
Throughout their meal, the man kept checking his various phones for messages. No one called. He sent some texts. And probably checked his Facebook once or twice. He ordered a total of six glasses of wine. Seeing that he weighed about 340 pounds, it didn’t seem to make any difference in his behavior so I didn’t worry about it. I figured most of the wine was soaked up by his importance.
Their bill was $146 and V.I.P. left me a twenty dollar tip. Whatever. Thirty would have been nice but I got something much more important. He taught me a lesson that day that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. And now I can pass it on to you:
The moral of this story: “The men who carry cell phones, six, are probably compensating for very small dicks.”