Stroller Bitches From Hell, Part 2

I served brunch on Sunday. It has been quite some time since I have had the pleasure of carrying mimosas and eggs benedict, but on Sunday I was shoved back into that world and it was not an easy transition. Brunch and I go way back. I served it for 6 years when I worked at the Marriott and then for another 18 months when I worked at VYNL. I thought I was prepared for the hot mess that is a Sunday brunch when I agreed to pick up the shift. My first table reminded me why brunch is only fun when I get to consume Bloody Mary's rather than serve them.

The restaurant opens at 11:00 AM so of course at 10:55, people start gathering at the door and cupping their hand at the window to peer inside as if that will make time move faster. Were we ready to open at 10:55? Yes, we were, but they can wait their asses outside for five more minutes while we mentally prepare ourselves. At 10:59 one of the douchebaggy types taps on the window and then taps his watch to let us know what time it was. The door was unlocked at precisely 11:00 and the hell began.

My first table was a young couple with a stroller that was bigger than a Manhattan studio apartment. I flashed back to the Stroller Bitches From Hell that I served on the Upper East Side. As per usual, the parents saw absolutely no problem with parking the baby in the only place that I was able to stand therefore rendering it near impossible to reach their table. I get it. People have kids and then they put them in strollers. What I don't get is why the stroller needs to be the size of an SUV. I was a manny (male nanny) for about a year (for real) and my baby was in the smallest stroller possible. Her mother told me she saw no sense in spending hundreds of dollars on a stroller just so it could be in the way all the time. As I pushed Lillian down the street, did I feel judged by all the other nannies because my stroller was not a Graco or a Bugaboo? Yes, a little. But on the plus side, when we went into a restaurant I didn't make the waiter do a hop, skip and a jump just to hand me a glass of water because my gigantic stroller was blocking the table. Anyhoo, the parents blocked themselves in barricading their table with their baby and stroller. So when I poured scalding hot coffee, I had to do so over their baby. When I passed plates of food, I did that over their baby too. When I cleared plates with dirty silverware, that also happened directly over their baby. They never noticed how much more difficult it was for me because all they cared about was their coffee refills. And their baby.

Later that day, I went to the coffee station only to be prevented by a double wide stroller that had been crammed into the side stand. I looked around to see who thought that was good idea. The lady at table 12 said, "Oh, we just put that there to get it out of our way." So now it's in my way, bitch. How about the next time I am filling ramekins with ketchup I just spread them out on your table so they're out of my way?

What is the solution? Do I expect people to not use strollers anymore? Of course not. But why not leave the strollers on the sidewalk and carry the baby in a papoose or baby bjorn or your arms? Or maybe the baby can take up temporary residence in the place it came from: the uterus. Just pop that baby back into the pie hole for an hour or so while you eat and when you get out of my station you can re-birth it and be on your merry way. This makes wonderful sense to me, but I can understand why some women may not want to put their baby back inside them while they eat brunch just to satisfy their Bitchy Waiter. It's only a suggestion. At the very least though, consider leaving the stroller out of the tiny restaurant that only seats 35 people. They get in the fucking way.

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