Speaking of things getting in your way, what is it with people who bring impossibly awkward items into a restaurant and then demanding that we find a place to put it while they eat? Just because someone decided to organize their life and go hog wild at The Container store does not mean that I have to store your huge plastic boxes for you while you eat in my station. “Table for two, and do you have someplace I can put this?” as they hand me bags and bags of crap from Macy’s. It’s New York City you know, so they can’t just leave that shit in the trunk of their car. It’s amazing what people will drag into a restaurant.
A few years ago when those Razor scooters were all the rage, one set of parents thought it was okay that their kid ride one into the restaurant. Seriously? Does this look like a fucking park? Leave that shit at home. Of course they sat at a booth and then left the damn thing sticking out so we had to walk around it every time we passed their table on a a busy Saturday brunch. After about the 525,600th time I had avoided it, I decided they needed to know that the scooter was in the way in a big way. I was going to intentionally trip over it. After years of stage combat classes and learning how to do pratfalls and physical comedy, I figured that knowledge should be put to use. I told my friend Bill to watch me as I headed towards the booth. Timed perfectly, my right foot “accidentally” caught the back end of the scooter and I fell to the floor all dramatic and shit making the scooter fall over as well and make a loud crashing sound. As I hit the ground, I looked at Bill who was standing behind the bar. He bent down behind it to conceal his laughter. “Oh my goodness, “I said loudly as I brushed myself off. “That scooter is in the way a bit, huh?” The entire restaurant was quiet at this point and every diner looked at the family and silently judged the parents who let their kid bring a fucking scooter into the restaurant in the first place. Immediately, the dad apologized to me and then reprimanded the kid for leaving the scooter in the aisle. The kid felt like shit. The parents were mortified. Bill was laughing. And because I am professional faller downer, I was fine. That table left me a huge tip. Falling down totally made my day that Saturday. So much fun. The big tip was just the icing on the cake.
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