Here, Take My Wheelbarrow

My summer is nearly gone! Less than 2 weeks left now before I kick off the second year of my college career.

A big huge shiver that is one part fear and one part excitement just crawled down my spine. Mostly excitement- definitely mostly excitement.

Nothing nearly as interesting as finding my toe twin has happened recently, so I've decided to draw on everyday experiences as inspiration for this post.

Since I've been working my life away this summer, why not tell of the strange folks we have gracing us with their presence in the restaurant?

Being a waitress has it's perks- I meet all kinds of winners who pay me to smile and make sure they're never in need of a mountain dew or a refilled ice tea. 

As rude as I may sound, you must put yourselves into my shoes for just a moment (my work shoes stink, so you won't want to stay very long): When it's 90+ degrees outside, as a server, it feels like someone has wrapped a giant wool blanket around your shoulders and they won't take it off. Instead, they order you around- they need butter, extra napkins, straws etc. and you're just hot.

In an attempt to maintain sanity, you just have to roll with what you get.

Even if that means laughing at customers behind their backs.

All in good fun.

Last Wednesday night there was one particularly unfortunate man that ate his cheeseburger at the counter at 7:45. Now really, at that time and location he pretty much ran full-speed into the spotlight.

He tried to have a conversation with me as I cleaned the menus (far away) across the counter, but I just wasn't feeling it. I mean, he was telling me how he liked another restaurant better.

Not necessarily the way to strike up conversation. Sorry bud.

Anyway, his cheeseburger must have been a lot for him to handle, because he lasted quite some time. He proceeded to tell myself and the rest of the serving staff :

1. That he owned his own bar but no longer owned said bar because Amish ran him out (or something like that)

2. He thought my co-worker would have been a great bartender because she just smiles

3. That the male server working that night was lucky to be working with a bunch of ladies- then he quoted "Country-boy can survive" and decided to call this guy Waylon even though it was not his name

4. My other co-worker was of Italian heritage (she isn't)

5. In 1969 he was headed to Woodstock, but Jesus had other plans for him so he ended up in rehab.

I'm telling you, this guy stole the show.

Just when we thought he was done, he went into a whole argument in favor of the legalization of marijuana in the United States. Apparently, the government won't legalize it simply because they make money off of it being illegal (this stated as his closing argument).

While he was pretty convincing, he was also a bit out-there and it was pretty tough to take him seriously. Again, sorry Bud.

There are always plenty of stories of unfortunates coming in and catching our attention- like the lady who spent a good 15 minutes walking around the restaurant with her skirt caught in her underwear, or the man who was impressed by my menu- washing skills who tried to convince me that his Southern accent was on account of him growing up at the southern end of the street (clever). Then there's the folks who's originality gets me every time with their responses to two very simple questions:

1. "Would you like to wait for the rest of your party to come in before I seat you?"

- Oh they're right here.

"Awesome."- as we awkwardly wait because I'm not sure if that's a yes or no.

2. "Anything else I can get for you today?"

- "A wheelbarrow!" - fits of laughter, you're too funny. Maybe you and the guy who sat here before you can get together sometime, you seem to have a strangely similar sense of humor.

But the best way to end an unusual week comes after seeing a long-lost... customer who has suddenly found himself back in our doors.

This customer has become so frequent a guest, that we've actually given him a name: Flip.

He will literally flip out if you make the mistake of asking how he is on any given day as this question is far to personal for his liking.

Also, he wears glasses which double as sunglasses- with lenses that flip up.

Ergo, Flip.

Anyway, Flip had been gone for a really long time- not that we really minded, except that he's always good for a story or two. You see, he's special.

My theory is this: Flip suffers from long-term memory loss and cannot remember his country of birth.

He goes back and forth between accents from week to week, or minute to minute. Ha- he flips through accents. His name is just so fitting.

Now to be fair, he does have some kind of European last name- he paid with a credit card one time, but I totally forget the name. I just know it was odd.

But he asks for a table in a French accent and adds "Merci" onto the end of his sentence. Then after finishing his meal he walks out and says, "Wiedersehen!" in a suddenly acquired German accent.

Sometimes, he's Russian.

Every time, he's special.

Anyway, Flip had been gone for quite some time.

Since December (according to his friend).

You see, his friend and dining buddy had apparently injured his back last December, and was therefore out of commission until now.

But he's healthy now, and apparently was happy that I noticed their absence.

You know me, the butt-kissing waitress who gets paid to smile.