Can You Find the Word to Describe This Man?

guess what this is

guess what this is

I want to paint a picture of the man who is sitting in my station and see if you can determine what kind of person you think he is. His “type” can best be described in one word. Or maybe it’s two words. Let’s just call it a compound word. We will will wait to the end of this post to use the word, but I bet you a hundred bottles of Massengill that you will know the word before you read it.

He walks in and breezes past me and the other server who are standing at the front of the restaurant holding menus ready to seat people.

“We’re gonna sit at that back table,” he says as my nostrils fill with the aromatic distinction known as Drakkar Noir.

I follow him and his girlfriend to the booth that we save for four-tops. Lucky me, he’s chosen my section. I hand them two menus and he informs me that there will be two more people and maybe three. I assume that the possible fifth person is a tiny human being who will be sitting on a thimble and using an overturned teacup for a table since the booth he has sat himself in has no room for more than four people. I walk back to the front of the restaurant to retrieve two more menus and and check on my other table. In the two minutes it takes to do this, I see another server taking two beers to the man and his girlfriend.

“When did they orders beers?” I ask.

“He flagged me down and ordered them,” says my co-worker. “Good luck with him. He’s a real peach.”

Know what word yet perfectly describes this man? I bet you do.

As I walk to his table, I notice how he is sitting. He has his legs spread very wide and both of his arms are splayed across the back of the booth. His chest is puffed out, his chin is thrust forward and his lip has a slight curl to it.

“So, yeah, we’re waiting on some people. Can we get some fries? I’m starving. And I’m gonna need another beer pretty soon.”

I put the order in for the fries and I soon see two people, a man and a woman, join their table. The fifth person does not show up which is fortunate because I cannot remember where I placed the thimble for him to sit on. It seems to be some type of reunion, the two guys having not seen each other for a few years and the two girls meeting for the first time. There are lots of “good to see ya, bro”s and some back slapping and that weird thing that straight guys do when they greet each other. My friend calls it a “shug.” It’s when two guys shake hands and then it becomes this half hug kinda thing that says “we’re good friends and really close but we’re not gay or anything like that.” After about two minutes of introductions and “how have you been”s, the conversation hits a brick wall. Of course, I am standing nearby with my pad and pen in my hand taking notes on the fascinating exchange of words.

New Guy says, “So what do you do now, bro?”

Guy With Legs Spread Out To Make Room For His Enormous Penis says, “I’m at a finance technology start-up. Been there for a little while and it’s all good. I don’t mean to be rude, but I really don’t want to talk about work, alright? I mean, I talk about it all day so when I’m not there, I kinda hate to talk about it, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, of course, of course.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Then silence.

He has effectively rebuilt the brick wall halting all conversation yet again. I decide to sweep in and take an order.

I tell them the dinner specials and get drink orders for the new couple. Moments later, I return with cocktails and as I am placing them down, Mr. Technology Start-Up begins to orders a slew of appetizers for the table without so much as asking anyone else what they want. I can tell that he is the guy who orders a lot of food at a table and then at the end says, “Hey let’s just split it four ways.”

“Hold on,” his girlfriend says. “Let the guy put the drinks down first, will ya? What’s your hurry?”

I take their appetizer order and go back to the sidestand to take some more notes about the table. The guy’s Drakkar Noir has now faded and I can’t seem to get the smell of vinegar out of my nose.

Know the word I would use to describe him?

Ten minutes later, I go to the table with their appetizers. “Do you guys know what else you want to order? I can take the order now but I won’t put it in until I see that you’re done with this.”

The guy is on his Blackberry texting something and lifts his head long enough to say “Yeah, we’re ready to order now but don’t bring it out until we’re done with this.”

His girlfriend looks at him with partial disgust and says, “He just said that. Why don’t you listen?” I like this girl and how she seems to be on my side. “He’s a professional waiter, will you let him do his job?” Now, I question my liking of this girl because she just reminded the table and me that I am a professional waiter and I spend most of time at work trying to forget that.

The rest of the night goes without incident. Other than his apparent non-use of words like “please” and “thank you,” the table is fine. As expected, they split the check down the middle even though I know that the first couple owed more money than the other couple did. I say thank you to them as they leave the table and I give an extra warm smile to the girlfriend who, although called me a “professional waiter,” was very nice. The tip is an exact 20% which I am happy to receive.

I watch the man leave and I search for the perfect word to describe him. His vinegary attitude and stream of warm pulsating words leads to the one perfect word to describe him. Or is two words? It’s a compound word: douchebag.

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