the only work i liked from my pennyroyal show

holey matrimony

much to the chagrin of my employers, i love voodoo doughnuts. there's something about combining santeria with baked goods that just absolutely tickles me. what i didn't realize was that shop doubles as a wedding chapel. you can tie the knot under the "holey donut" and it's legit. at a price of $300 you get: a wedding, a voodoo priest to perform it, and donuts/coffee for 6 apres nuptuals. i've changed my mind on marriage-if i can get married under a big donut, AND it's legit-then marriage is for me.

if you are old enough to buy it...

amazing. truly amazing and true story.

yesterday, i waited on a fine pair of hipsters. greasy hair, carefully placed. plastic sunglasses, ironic tattoos and high-waist shorts to boot. except for the dude. he had cutoffs.

so they walked in the restaurant with a brown bag, and me being the intuitive and slightly seasoned server that I am, I knew exactly what to do. i grabbed my cork opener, 2 buffed wine glasses and a serving napkin. prepared as i was for the wine service, I wasn't prepared for what was to happen.

i set down the wine glasses and ask "may i see your i.d.?" and what i got in return were glares, a sigh, and then a flash of a 1985 and a 1984. the latter was all i needed. they should have saved their breath.

but, i plunged forward with the service. the two decided to put their wine on ice for a while, before opening, and when i came back with an ice bucket i noticed that there was no sticker on the bottle. (legally, we cannot open wine without that sticker) i asked why there wasn't a sticker and they responded that "the law changed and stickers aren't being used anymore." wierd, i thought. all of our wine bottles still have stickers. but, i still wanted to serve it to them (but knew i couldn't legally without that sticker), so i asked them if they could tell me where they bought it so i could verify. i was met with a blank stare and a "can i just order while YOU figure this out?!"

we're almost there. as i walked back into the restaurant to talk to my boss, i could see the fumes coming out of her grease-laden ears. after weighing the issue, my boss decided to let me serve it to them. i return to the table to tell them the good news and i see only the guy. as i tell him that we will serve it to them and that " i am sorry for the trouble", i see it....the girl...sitting on the curb, pouting with her head in her hands.

maybe i read the i.d. wrong. was is 1994? 2004? because i sure as hell don't serve alcohol to children.

waiting tables

a while back, i wrote a blog rant about proper manners in a restaurant. i will be posting the "best of's" periodically and some new encounters as well.

this was from a few years back when i worked at abbey road pub:


"i went up to my table of four ladies (i use that term loosely) and asked them if they wanted to go ahead and cash out right then. one of the ladies, clad in an oversized tie-dye tank top reminding me of why i hate tourists and "deadheads", proceeded to tell me "not yet", because she hadn't finished picking her teeth. needless to say i was rather dodgy when i later took the receipt and cash from her hands."

break it

i was just informed by a blonde crew-cut clerk, upon asking for a veggie burger at the "scoreboard grill" on campus, that my vegetarianism (never mind the couple years that dairy/eggs were a no go for me) is against the word of wisdom. while verbally i expressed that the clerk should "get a dictionary and look up the word 'sparingly'" and that he was "full of crap" as well-i couldn't help but wonder what the kid would say about my coffee habit and sailor mouth.

p.s. said clerk continued to inform me about how much beef he ate in brazil, on his mission, and how tasty it was. i think i just stared at him-wondering why his mouth was still moving and how quickly i could pay for my grilled cheese.