Well kids, as everyone's weekend starts my work-weekendthing starts. C'est la vie de la waitress, bebe. Oh I just combined french, spanish and english? Holla for that dolla. Yay coffee! Alright. Here you go. My stream of consciousness as a waitress:
"Where the eff is my bread?"
"It doesn't look like they even touched this...do you think it's safe enough to eat?"
"Why am I here?"
"Who DOESN'T eat the full strawberry that comes with their dessert? What are you, dying in an overwhelming bath of strawberry overload? You lucky bitch you."
"Who rolled these napkins?"
"Oh my gosh, I can't believe I just judged someone for rolling napkins the wrong way.
My life. What has it become?"
"Dear God please let no one order a bottle of wine tonight so I don't have to stand awkwardly at their table and open it for the five longest minutes of my life."
"A MARTINI?? Eff you sir, you should have ordered a bottle of wine."
"What I wouldn't give for a bus boy."
"No but really, where is my bread?"
Got a good waitress horror story (either as a customer or server)?