But I never worked at a restaurant like the one I was at yesterday for Jugs Night Out.
Our poor waitress — she was new, and she was not confident. When I was a teenager and I worked at a Mexican restaurant, I would smile as I wrote down customers’ orders phonetically then rush into the kitchen to make sure I understood what they wanted. Usually I didn’t.
(There seems to be this divide between people who want a server to write down orders, and people who want them memorized. I prefer to have mine written down. I always want more mayo or sauce or hold the onions — unless they’re carmelized — and if I’m going to spend My Chemical Romance’s hard-earned money, I want to get what I want.)
Also, going out to eat with Wii is always amusing, because she wants what she wants — and is much more specific than me. I want meat and cheese and sauce, and maybe some french fries that are extra crispy. Extra sauce — but I’ll take it on the side if it doesn’t end up on the meat. Wii is very specific. She has dietary restrictions, eats really clean, and wants to know how things are prepared, what are the ingredients, and if the fruit is ripe. Or fresh, or in season or something.
I get it — but I also know that if she’d gone to my Mexican restaurant, she would have run the risk of getting her food spit in. But she’d never have eaten at my restaurant. Everything was cooked in hydrogenated oils. Maybe servers are less inclined to spit in the food in nicer establishments.
Anyway this poor waitress encountered Wii, and what little confidence she had totally evaporated. The waitress didn’t screw anything up particularly — all of our food was right, except Nice-Nice’s took extra time — but she was flustered and forgot napkins and silverware and chopsticks and had a difficult time dividing the bill when we were finished.
She was training, and her trainer totally left her in the weeds. I suppose training on a Tuesday makes sense, because, like, who goes out to eat on a Tuesday? — except that this restaurant is new and hip and trendy and DELICIOUS. It’s called Cowfish and you should totally go there.
The upshot was this: the manager comped our entire dinner. The.Whole.Meal. And Mary F. Poppins had drinks; Nice-Nice, Little Miss Popular and I had apps. I ordered a to-go sushi roll for My Chemical Romance.
It was awesome! I can’t wait to go back.
Afterwards we went to Pinkberry — apparently the theme of our night was yuppie food — which was okay. The toppings were awesome; the yogurt was meh.
Porcelain, the only baby with us, was pretty good despite being awake the entire time. I look forward to our next JNO!
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