The Waitress
So I want to kill this waitress
She’s worked here a year longer than I
If I did it fast you know that’s an act of kindness
But I believe in peace
I believe in peace, Bitch
I believe in peace
Tori Amos – The Waitress©
When I dine out with people that I enjoy and I’m in a good mood, I can be rather playful with my wait staff. I’ll usually test them with a small, innocuous comment or request that will tell me in no uncertain terms whether this particular waitperson is open to my unique sense of humor. Earlier this evening, Tom and I stopped into the local pub for some grub after spending an afternoon searching the junk shops looking for a chandelier for my back porch.
Sitting down, I grabbed the menu looking for something healthy, yet tasty that I would enjoy. I was torn between a healthy Cobb Salad or a less-than-healthy Chicken Fried Steak dinner. Tom was pushing towards the Chicken Fried Streak.
When the waitress asked me what I wanted, I very carefully pointed to the Chicken Fried Steak listed on the menu while declaring that I would be enjoying the “salad” this evening.
Without missing a beat, she said that the “salad” would be a great choice for dinner except that they were currently out of that particular type of salad and that I should perhaps try the “Southern Fried Chicken salad” instead.
“Excellent” I said, handing the menu to her, looking up to see Tom smirking openly.