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.