
The show I was cocktailing for had about 70 people in the audience and after it was over about 68 of them thought it was a good idea to stand up, get in the aisle and stay there. No amount of "excuse me's" and "pardon me's" did anything. These people were like fucking statues. Where was a giant pigeon when I needed one so it could swoop in and shit all over their heads? Throughout the performance, they were in my way too. I only have a narrow little space to maneuver thorough in the dark while carrying a tray with martinis on it. You would think that people would understand that by pushing their chair away from the table, my narrow space becomes even narrower. I must have tripped over one lady's chair about ten times. And at least one of them was for real. The other nine were me just kicking it so she would think, "Oh, I must be in this fine young man's way" and then scoot her chair in. She never got it. (But then she gave me $40 on a $21 bill so I didn't mind. I send out an internet apology for all the intentional kicks, lady at table 28X.)
The point is, too many people are unaware of their spatial relationship to their waiter and I need them to move, move, move right outta my life. I even made a fucking video about it.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter blog.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.

No comments:
Post a Comment