Hold The Sausage.....please!

After having over thirteen years of work experience in "The Serving" industry, not much surprises me when it comes to dealings with the public... until of course,someone surprised me. Usually, in the past, I have been known to start my posts with something like this.. "It was a beautiful day at 'Ned's.' Well, not this time. It was a gloomy, overcast day at the beach, and despite this fact, Ned's was a 'Full house.' Everyone and their mother's mother's came out to partake in the 'Ned's breakfast.' Women, men, and children from all over the beach lined up to get their hands on some good ol' breakfast sausage. But I think it's safe to say that after today, they (the customers) may be less interested in sausage for the time being, or maybe, more interested? You can decide for yourself after you finish reading this ridiculous story. The air was thick with the smell of pancakes and bacon, and it lingered all the way out to the parking lot. Despite the cold;dozens of fisherman lined up around the pier with their lines in the sea, just waiting for their next catch. It was only a few hours into my morning shift (I started at 5am) and already very busy. I had easily around twelve tables going at the same time,and the other server probably had around the same. I just took a new tables order and I was on my way to the kitchen to give the cooks the food order when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a middle aged mexican man walking by Ned's with a fishing pole, a forty ounce beer, and no shirt or shoes on. But unfortunately, that wasn't too abnormal of a sight to see on our fishing dock. What caught my attention was how everyone in the restaurant was staring at him. Like they all sensed he was...interesting. So after the moment passed, I snapped back into work mode, gave the cooks the order and went back to business. Food orders were literally flying in and out of the kitchen. Plenty of hot sausage was being served. I made my rounds with the coffee pot, topping off peoples cups. But just as I came to one particular table to fill up a man's cup, he happened to be taking a bite out of his pork sausage when that mexican fisherman with the forty ounce beer came standing right next to the window. The man that was busy chowing down on his link, had failed to notice the fisherman who was bearing a link of his own. The next thing I heard was the sound of people yelling and gasping. But what I heard next was even more classic. It was from a little boy in the restaurant and he pointed and said "Dad! Look! you can see that man's weener!!!" Me, not being a fan or pork, ended up being a real blessing in disguise. I hadn't had pork sausage in over fifteen years, and I sure as hell wasn't going to start eating it now. Based on the massive response from the customers, (several of them started spitting out their sausages onto napkins.I am not joking) I got the feeling that many shared my same sentiment in regards to sausage. The only exception I believe, was the little boy who was fascinated my the man's very own personal sausage, because when the fisherman started to walk around, the little boy shouted this out "Look, it's flopping all around. His weener is flopping!!" He thought this man's unfortunate bodily movements were just absolutely hysterical. And now, looking back, it really was hysterical. The fisherman was arrested shortly later after he continued to stand buck naked and fish while drinking his forty. He didn't give a damn. He just wanted to fish naked. He kept saying how it was his "God given right as an American to fish naked!" Good times, people. Good times.

I was temporarily locked out of my account, but now I'm back!!!

Man, that was pretty upsetting for me. Not being able to access my very own account with ALL of my writing and post etc was a bit traumatic for a little while there. Whhhhew!! Its fixed, or at-least I think it is. I am back in action people and ready ready ready to write!!

Back from the dead

Well, it has been several months and many days since I have written anything and I am here to change that!!! A lot has happened and I intend on catching you all up. I have written many things but just haven't put them into a final format quite yet but I intend to change that very soon. First of all I must share with you that I am no longer working at "Ned's" but don't worry, I still have plenty of stories to tell! I stopped working for Ned's back in April and it has been one of the best things to happen to me in a while. And although if it weren't for Ned's I wouldn't even have this blog or an ex boyfriend and a trip to Europe ( I'll explain later), I am VERY thankful to not be working there. Sometimes in life you need someone to pull the rug out from under you and force you to make changes in your life. And that's sort of what happened to me and Ned's. I just needed a little push in the right direction (hopefully) and I didn't really have the balls to do it myself. So they (Ned's) did it for me, and although they pretty much screwed me over, it was I that benefited in big scheme of things. So I owe the staff at Ned's for Fu*%@#g me over, a big THANK YOU.... BITCHES!

With this being said, I still have several more "Serving and Waiting" stories to write and I will incorporate them in my blog wherever I see fit. And Marilyn, if you still read my blog I just want to thank you again for encouraging me to branch out and write more!! You rock and this one, like the last goes out to you!!!!

More than just a server? ( A shout out to you Marilyn)

I have decided that this blog is no longer strictly going to be about just serving and waiting but also the journey of becoming more than just a server who is waiting. I have had a few friends and followers ask me why I don't write more often and about more than just the stories of Ned's. And I have given it a lot of thought and come to the conclusion that I can continue to keep the blog called "Serving and Waiting" as long as I incorporate the journey of going after my dreams and the stories along the way. So I will do just that. Thanks Marilyn for pushing me and encouraging me to do more with my writing. Forgive me for taking FOREVER to write anything. I will make you hold me accountable to stay more frequent. This is my goal for everyone to see and hold me accountable. Please call me out if I don't follow through, which Marilyn, I know you will. Haha

Holy Helicopter

It was around 6 a.m. on a beautiful Thursday morning. The sun had just risen and the view was stunning. I couldn't have asked for a more peaceful way to start my day. As I sat at an empty table at Ned's, I peered out to the ocean and focused in on what appeared to be a stumbling drunk man trying to get the front door open. This man, whom I assumed to be homeless by the looks of him, ended up being a regular named "Frank." Yeah, we'll just call him Frank. And in that instant when Frank stumbled into my perfect morning view, I knew that this was just the beginning of a weird day and the very ending of my so called "peaceful" morning at Ned's.

So as I watched "Frank" struggle with the door, my busboy came over and tried to intercept the situation before it got messier than Frank's getup. He (the busboy) wasn't successful. Frank managed to barge in and slam right into a nearby table while simultaneously and unintentionally squishing the busboy behind the door.

Frank-1: busboy-0

Frank then staggered in my direction and muttered something about wanting to eat some "Pegs and Roast", which I assumed translated to "Egg's and toast." The busboy then came over and tried to make Frank leave (apparently he had been kicked out the previous day), but good ole Frank wasn't having it. He wanted his damn "Pegs and Roast", for cryin out loud!

So after about two minutes of slobbery deliberation, Frank was granted his "Pegs and Roast", just this one last time.

Frank-2 : busboy-0

Frank eventually sat down (right next to me) and began to stuff his face. And while doing so, Frank made strange grunting and humming noises. Oh, and did I mention that Frank smelled of liquor, body odor and grandma perfume? Well he did. And on top of his refreshingly hungover scent, he wore a blood stained white collar dress shirt, his shoes were unlaced, and his hair (or what was left of it), was a mess. Frank was quite the sight. Just what every woman wishes she sees first thing in the morning, right? As a matter of fact, I couldn't justify what I was seeing before my eyes, it was too friggin' early for that kind of crap. I decided to roll with it. Besides, Frank seemed to have mellowed out now that he was granted his one last meal. No one was going to get hurt, at least for the moment anyways...

I couldn't take the noise (coming from Frank) or the smell (of Frank) anymore, so I decided to get up from my table and do some work behind the counter (which was far from Frank). And while Frank worked on his meal I figured it was the perfect time to get away without him noticing. I was very wrong. Frank must have had some drunken radar that specifically zeroed in on me. I mean the man could not take a hint. But I guess he was drunk and apparently drunk people (named Frank), don't take hints.

Frank stood up from his unfinished breakfast, crumbs of toast were all over his mouth and other various parts of his face, and ketchup soiled his already blood stained shirt.

He then walked right over to me and said "Hey, have you ever heard of the band called "Cheap Trick?" His stale breath surrounded all of my personal spaces. Gross. "Yeah", I said, "I know Cheap Trick. They're cool."

"Oh, they're soooo old, but they're cool and old, like me. And they sing a song that I want to dedicate to you and I am going to sing it to you right now. Tell me if you've heard of it, okay?"

"Ummm yeah, okay, I said." I looked beyond him and caught a quick glance at the handful of customers in Ned's. I noticed all eyes were on me and I automatically regretted looking. And Frank began to sing.

"I'd love you to love meeeee. I neeeed yoouuu to want meee. I'd love it if you'd looove meee." Oh, pleaseeee wont you loove meeee."

Oh good god. It was horrific and he clearly butchered the song.

"Yeah, I know that song. It's a nice umm, song." Oh did I hope he was finished.

And then he told me how even though he was old and cool, he could still dance like he was young and that he specialized in particular dance called "The Helicopter." I said a silent prayer to God and asked him to please make this man stop. Please, please don't let him show me this helicopter crap, I begged.

"Lemme show you how I can still dance. I am old but don't let it fool you. I'm damn good at "The Helicopter." He then showed me how you have to wind up to get in the perfect helicopter spin and then leap in the air at just the right moment before you then unwind in the opposite direction.
"Please don't hurt yourself or anyone else, I said. And be careful not to hit the tables."

"Oh, I wont, cuz I'm really good at it."

He wasn't. He fell and dramatically knocked over an entire table and several chairs, and hit his head on the way down. The sound of crickets echoed throughout Ned's as Frank laid silently on the ground. Needless to say his helicopter days were long behind him.

After Frank sobbed to me about his woes and confessed his love for me, I finally was able to escort him out of the restaurant, peacefully. And apparently after he left someone called the police on him and he was arrested for giving "The bird" to some people and being an all around public nuisance. Yep, just another day in the office for me. And that's all folks!

Cal State Fullerton after dark-a column

Hey Y'all, I know this has nothing to do with serving and waiting but again, bear with me. It is a column I wrote in my opinion writing class about CSUF at night. Our teacher chose this topic and this was my first attempt of ever writing a column. As it turns out, I got a 99 out of 100 points possible. Who would have guessed? Especially because the topic is damn boring. Anyways, here it is. Enjoy.

I am here in College park’s cozy Nutwood Café sipping my chai tea, just after seven on a Monday evening. Prior to my being in the café I wandered aimlessly around campus trying to get a taste of what goes on after dark here at CSUF.  And I will tell you what I have discovered:  Not a thing.  There was absolutely nothing going on so I decided to hit up good old Nutwood Café for my usual cup of tea.  

Monday evenings here at CSUF sure are empty and calm. The younger (and much louder) crowd seems to not be here and I like that.  Some may call me boring for preferring the empty and calm over the loud and lively but I’m left wondering, aren’t we here for our education anyway?  I mean, how are you supposed to learn with all that noise?

 

Speaking of noise, as I’m sitting here in the café, these two ladies are discussing their wedding plans in my left ear and the Lakers game is blaring in my right ear. I really want to catch the Lakers game; after all, this is game five of the playoffs.  And I’m wondering if the “Lake-show” is going to live up to its expectations? Or is Utah going to give them a run for their money?  Either way, the Jazz won’t be going to the finals. The Lakers own that spot.

Now that I have decided that there is not much going at CSUF this evening, I am convinced that this is where the action is. Right here in Nutwood Café, watching the playoffs and drinking my chai tea. This is the life.  The only thing that is interfering with my contentment are these wedding- crazed women to my left. They are talking so damn loud and it’s not like there’s any other seats for me to move to.

 

I feel like I am in a theatre watching two different movies at the same time, and there’s no wall separating them.  This is what my movie sounds like:

Ladies in my left ear:

“Yeah, that’s what I was telling James he should do about the suit. He should definitely just spend the money and buy one. I mean, otherwise the rental might not even fit him right and he’s going to spend a fortune either way.”

 

Lakers game to my right: (different random dudes commenting on the game)

“Shit Kobe, what the hell do they feed you?  Wheaties maybe?”

“Ahahaha, too bad LaBron is a better athlete.”

“Yeah right dude, Kobe is the best athlete in the NBA hands down.”

“Nope, LaBron is a better athlete. He’s a house. Kobe is overrated.”

 

Ladies in my left ear:

“ I really don’t like James ‘s mother. Between you and me, I think she’s a neurotic bitch.  And if she thinks she’ll be watching her grandkids she’s insane.”

“Hey, what do you think of purple and green for my wedding colors?  Don’t you think that would be a pretty flower arrangement?”

Lady, I could care less about your flower arrangements and your purple and green colors. In fact, the only colors I care about are purple and gold now shut the hell up so I can hear the game!  This is what I feel like saying to the two wedding crashers to my left.

I instead sip my chai tea and go to my happy place, the one that doesn’t involve women discussing their weddings. And when I come back to reality, they are gone. Yes! They are finally leaving. Too bad the game is pretty much over.

The Lakers manage to eliminate the Jazz from finals 107-96. No surprise there. This season the Lakers are by far the best team in the NBA and that makes for a boring season. Just about as boring as a Monday evening here at CSUF.

Apparently, I'm a Racist

Today at Ned's was quite the experience and I have no other way of putting it.

I found out something about myself that I never knew before. In all my years of living life and being you know, me, I suddenly discovered that I am a racist. Or at least according to some random insane customer I am.

Well I'll be damned(in a total hick/white-trash accent). Shoot, this here falla sure teached me a thing er two. I tell yah, we had ourselves a genius in this here restaurant I reckon. Now lets get ourselves a confederate flag, hook-up the trailer to the tow-hitch and have ourselves a party, celebrating my new found racism!

Some people really are stupid. I would use the word ignorant to describe this customer but why waste such a smart word on someone who's just plain stupid?

Curious as to how this moron came to the conclusion that I am a racist? Well, I'll tell yah.

It was a very hectic Thursday at Ned's. I run the whole restaurant on Thursdays and I am the only server. So since it was such a busy day, it was hard for me to pay extra attention to my customers. I usually chat with some of my regulars and mingle more when I have the time. But

today, I was too busy to even remember my name let alone socialize.

I had over 17 people filled tables and they all demanded something from me. It was pure madness. And in the midst of all this chaos, I had one other serious issue to tend to. I had to pee like a racehorse. So, I decided that the customers could hold their horses while I took care of business.

I was literally in the bathroom for half a minute when I returned to the dining room from the revealing door that reads "Restrooms" right smack dab on the top in bright green letter's.

And before the door closed behind me, a man grabbed my hand and aggressively shoved his bill and some money in my hand. Next he yelled "Hey are you going to take care of this or what? Where have you been? God! This is ridiculous."

I am not going to lie, I gave him the "I am flipping you off in my head right now" glare. He had it coming. He didn't have to be such a jerk. I mean seriously, why couldn't he take care of the bill with the cashier who was literally six feet away from him?

I gave Mr. jerk-face's bill to the cashier and asked them to take care of his payment. I had about 13 other people to deal with and this man was not at the top of my list of priorities if you catch my drift. Besides, he was finished, why did he absolutely need to receive his change from me personally? That's what cashiers are for.

I thought nothing of it and resumed to my duties as personal servant to all. Little did I know I had become a racist.

As I started to take some elderly folk's order, I heard a man's voice within earshot yelling, "Are you a racist or something? Why did you push my sister? Why are you so nice to everyone else but mean to me? You're a racist aren't you? Why are you a racist?"

I looked over at my poor elderly customers and apologized for the situation while in the meantime, the man was still screaming at me. And I mean, really screaming. Then I started to realize what he was saying and I became completely confused. "Racist?, I said in puzzled way. "Huh? Why am I a racist? I have no idea what you're talking about. I then looked at the guy and then I glanced over the whole restaurant and I came to the realization that Ned's was completely full of white-folk, myself included. But what the hell was he? He could have been a purple hippopotamus for all I knew or cared(he was asian, I think). Like I said, I was so busy you could have told me I was Tina Turner and I would have went with it. For crying out loud, did he really need to pull the racial card on me because I am white and had someone else give him his change?

Long story short, I kicked the man out. I told him he was acting inappropriate and threatened to call the police and so he left.

Well my friends, this is where the story ends. Now you know how I have become a racist. If you don't want this to happen to you, never let the cashier give your customer their change, especially if you're white. Now please excuse me, I need to put on my white cape.