The restaurant was frickin’ pretty crazy last night (as is the case on Saturdays.) I got a nine top and as I approached the table two more tables got sat. So starting out I was already in the weeds. I start taking drink orders. One women asks me a million wine questions. She wants a Barolo but doesn’t want to pay 100 bucks for one. Well that’s how much they cost! Meanwhile this dude from across the table starts gesturing me emphatically about something. He tells me he has “spliffs” waiting for the table. What the fuck is a spliff? Were they smoking? Anyway, I go back to the bar the apparently the guy ordered 6 half bottles of fucking Champagne. Really? He couldn’t have ordered 2 conventional bottles or even a magnum? I gotta open 6 little bottles at the table?
I get that underway while and take the order of another table at the same time. I return to the 9 top and return to the woman who needs a Wine for Dummies to decide what she wants. Finally, I get her to make her choice (the cheap Barolo.) I go back to the bar, and one of the bussers comes up to me saying that table wants to order. “No shit they wanna order.” I get back with the bottles of wine in my hand and one of the women says, “We want to order, we’ve asked for you 3 times.”
“You see those six bottles of Champagne and these two bottles of wine. I had to get those. I had to back and forth to the front of the restaurant to get those. Plus your friend over there needed a Kettle One and soda right away. Now, I would be more than happy to put these down and take your order.” I’m not sure she knew how to react. The night was pretty much like that. Everyone had a birthday party, and everyone needed their check split multiple ways. That nine top split it seven ways to be exact.
And as the new girl I had to close which takes FOREVER. We got out around 1:30 am and one of our bartenders was having a birthday part next door. I walk in and instantly some douche bags at the table behind me yells, “Hey bitch, we’re trying to watch the game. MOVE.”
What a fuckin’ night?
I get cut from work. I’m so glad I don’t have to close on Saturdays. I go across to Woody’s for Javier’s birthday drinks. Man, everybody’s there. That guy knows how to party. As I’m about to sit down, the chick from the table across from us says, “Hey, want a tequila shot?” What a way to start the night, right? Then she starts playing with my necklace. But she’s got a wedding ring, so I go chat with the rest of my group.
An hour or so later, the closers finally make it out of the restaurant. The new girl Jill, starts bitching about something. And I’m all like ,”Why you gotta hate?”
“Because that table is full of a bunch of dickwads!”
“That table over there?”
“Na, they’re cool, gave me a shot when I walked in.”
“Well then why don’t you go sit with them?”
I get the details about them being assholes and I figure it’s just misunderstanding. I figure, I’ll go over to the table, chat with them, make a joke or two, tell them she was offended and then they’ll apologize.
I go over.
“Hey guys, thanks for that shot earlier–”
One guy: “Yea why don’t you buy us shots?”
I realize this wasn’t such a good idea. I make a few jokes that don’t go over too well. At that point, I probably should have just left.
“Look, my friend took offense and that wasn’t cool.”
One of the guys gets out of his chair and squares up to me.
“Yea well she needed to fuckin’ move.”
I don’t back down. His friends get out of their chairs. At this point I don’t realize how over my head I’m getting.
But what I also didn’t realize was that Javier and ALL his friends were squaring up behind me. And we probably outnumbered them 3 to 1. The owner comes over and breaks it up before it gets too hot. I sit back down but I can feel the eyes of all those guys glaring into my back. But Javier and all his crew congratulate me for sticking up for the new girl.
Meanwhile Jill is hella embarrassed. At first she’s mad at me for making a scene. Guess she doesn’t like attention. But we end up talking over a couple of drinks. Apparently she almost never drinks. Been doing something called Moderation Management. Also she’s looking for an apartment. I think I just figured out our roommate situation.
-Big Mack Attack