So I don’t know if I have mentioned this or not or even if anyone gives a shit, but I am not waiting tables for a couple of weeks because I am too busy being an actor. That’s right. Someone is paying me to put on silly costumes and act a fool up on a stage. This has been the summer of not waiting tables because I have been lucky enough to go from show to vacation to show. Never fear though, because in a couple of weeks I will again have a pen and pad in my hand, an apron around my waist and a razor blade next to my wrists. My show opened last night and to celebrate (and to work off the hangover) I took myself to breakfast this morning in lovely Maryland.
My waitress was Nancy who was great. She had obviously been waiting tables for a long long time. I can imagine her taking orders on a stone tablet with a hammer and chisel when the special of the day was roasted Brontosaurus burgers with a side of Dodo bird. I ordered my breakfast (cheddar and bacon omelet, home fries, rye toast and Pepsi) and it came out moments later. No sooner had I taken the first bite when my gaze fell upon something that took away my appetite and nearly had the tequila from the night before coming up for a visit. No, it wasn’t a roach or a mouse or anything so ordinary. It was another waitress. But this waitress appeared to have only one eye. Wait, what? A one-eyed fucking waitress? This lady’s left eye looked like it had simply called it quits on that bitch and the skin grew right over it. I kid you not. She saw me looking at her (well, half saw me) and I looked the other way. Now how the hell am I supposed to eat my way through a hangover when I got Cyclops Sally eyeing me down? She walked away but I kept staring at her wanting to make sure that I was not imagining that a woman with purple/grey skin covering her eye had just served food to a table. I think somewhere in Maryland there is an actual pirate museum. Why didn’t this lady swing down to the gift shop and pick up an eye patch for $1.99 so diners didn’t have to be grossed out every time she attempted to make eye contact? How do you make eye contact with that? I guess it’s easier than trying to make eye contact with a lazy eye because in that case you have to make a choice about which eye you want to look at. In this case the choice was made for us: we look at the one eye that is not rotting. I said a little thank you prayer to Martha, the patron saint of waiters for allowing me to have Nancy as my server and not Captain Hook over there in the other station.
I finished my meal with my head down so I didn’t accidentally catch the gaze of Ol‘ One Eyed Wilma. As I went up to pay my check, she was standing there next to the register. She smiled and I said good morning. I wondered how she lost her eye and thought about how much it would cost to stick a marble up in there and pull an old Sammy Davis, Jr or Sandy Duncan. I felt like I should give her some money because in New York City when you see someone like that, they usually have a styrofoam cup in their hand asking for handouts. But she just told me to have a nice day. She seemed nice and friendly and like a really sweet person. I could just tell. I could see it in her eye.