When you wait tables at the same restaurant for almost ten years like I have, you eventually develop a relationship with some of the customers and they become your regulars. Over the years, after sharing stories about each of your lives, one day you realize they are no longer just a customer. They’re your friends.
John and Mildred come into the restaurant pretty much every Thursday for date night. If they know they won’t be there, it’s not uncommon for Mildred to send me a text message giving me a heads up so I won’t worry. I know about their jobs, their vacations, their families and they know all the same things about me. One night, John called Mildred his betrothed and then looked at me for my reaction?
“Are you guys engaged?” I asked, full of excitement.
“Finally,” Mildred told me.
“When’s the wedding?” I wanted to know.
John held his hand up, palm facing outward. “Let’s not rush it or anything.”
This was easily two years ago and the date of their wedding has been a running joke ever since. The only thing more consistent than their order, (Caesar salad to share, a burger, medium-rare with goat cheese and bacon for John and the grilled salmon with no couscous and sub green beans for Mildred with a side of sweet chili sauce for her and a side of mayo and Tabasco for him), is there difference of opinion on when and how the actual wedding would take place.
It’s been four months since I’ve waited on them (thanks, COVID), but since we live in the same neighborhood, we bump into each other hear and there. It’s always nice to see them and I especially love when Mildred sends me a text on a Thursday night to say hello. A few weeks ago, I made burgers at home and decided to have goat cheese and bacon on mine which merited a text message to Mildred to tell John how delicious it was. A few weeks ago, another text message from Mildred pinged on my phone asking for my email address. They wanted to send me a link to their Zoom wedding! I guess with nothing else to do during the pandemic, John finally gave in to a date.
Yesterday, I sat in my bedroom with my laptop and watched my two regulars get married in a backyard in upstate New York. As John sang a song a accompanying himself on guitar, Mildred made her way onto my computer screen and into their life as husband and wife. Tears welled up in my eyes because after years of seeing them almost every night, I know how perfect they are for one another. They make each other laugh, she calls him “mi amour” ever since their trip to Paris, he encourages her to continue her ballroom dancing classes and they truly love each other. When they were officially announced as husband and wife, I threw confetti at my laptop and wiped another tear from my face.
As a server, I feel lucky to call so many of my customers friends. It makes me proud that Mildred and John thought enough of me to allow me to be a part of their big day. Congratulations to them! I look forward to when I can put on my apron again and bring John a beer (21st Amendment, Brew Free or Die! unless there’s a beer special that also has a 7% alcohol content) and Mildred a cocktail (only one though, because it’s a school night). Waiting tables can be a mixed bag, but when you get to wait on people you care about and who care about you, it hardly feels like work at all.
I have never participated in dating apps because I’ve been married for almost thirty years. When I was dating back in the mid to late 80s, we had this thing called personal ads in the newspaper and you had to literally read the ad, write a letter, put a stamp on it and then see if they ever wrote back to you.
Most of us who work in restaurants have had the extreme pleasure of serving for a baby shower. Baby showers usually happen in the home of the mom-to-be or one of her friend’s, but on occasion, it ends up happening in a restaurant because no one is willing to have a gaggle of women invade their living room so they can play “the candy bar in the diaper” game and serve lame ass mock-tails like Virgin Peach Bellinis and Mother’s Milkshakes. When these unfortunate events do take place in a restaurant, the server is left with a pile of wrapping paper, plastic trinkets that fell out of the goody bag and a measly tip. Well, prepare yourselves, because it has come to my attention that there is now something called a Grandma Shower.
Or maybe extra Kleenex that she can stuff up her sleeve for snot emergencies and probably a sweatshirt that says “If Mom Says No, Go Ask Grandma.” Instead of the partygoers cutting a ribbon to guess the girth of a pregnant belly, they would cut one to guess the size of a swollen cankle. But then I had a realization that a Grandma Shower might not be at all what I first assumed it was.
There are plenty of cities and states around the country that have made it a requirement to wear a mask or face covering in public as a prevention to help stop the spread of the coronavirus. Somehow, the act of taking a precautionary measure has turned political. While I can fully attest that covering my mouth and nose with a piece of fabric is not the most comfortable thing to do in 90° weather, I’m certain that it’s better than being on a ventilator.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
America has found her new hero when it comes to standing up for racial inequality. Step aside, Martin Luther King, Jr. Have a seat, Rosa Parks. We have a brand new figure who will go down in history for doing more for racial discord than any other human being the world has ever known. When a small fraction of protestors in downtown Seattle turned to rioting and looting last week, a Cheesecake Factory was among those businesses affected. It wasn’t long before a local news crew caught this unnamed hero casually walking down the street with an entire cheesecake in her hand along with what appears to be a couple of wine glasses. While other protesters were carrying signs that said ‘I can’t breathe” or marching in honor of the life of George Floyd who was murdered by police in Minneapolis, this woman did something that really mattered: she stole a cheesecake. But who is this masked avenger? Where did she muster the courage to do something so very brave and so very important?