« Delay the Pardon | Main | A Missed Opportunity - How I Could Have Tormented a Jerk for an Entire Plane Ride »
October 05, 2005
The Waiter Who Was More Upset than I was that My Water Glass Was Empty
Picture it, Sunday afternoon, the Victorian Room at the Barbary Coast Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada. After deciding to forgo the Bellagio’s scrumptious buffet due to the insanely long line of people waiting to be seated, my dad and I found ourselves sitting in the Barbary Coast’s Victorian Room, which is basically a glorified coffee shop. Our waiter could have easily been mistaken for a middle-aged high school wrestling coach. He was stocky and had features that would have made the men on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy quiver. After glancing at the waiter’s nametag, I spent a few seconds wondering what a Lithuanian man would sound like. Pure Russian, it turns out.
The waiter and I got off to a rough start when my attempt to order the manliest of men’s drinks failed.
"Russian" Waiter: What would you like to drink?
Thinking Fool: A Shirley Temple, please.
The waiter's eyes glared at me as if I had just asked him to obtain a nuclear weapon.
"Russian" Waiter: What is that?
Thinking Fool: 7-Up with grenadine.
The "Russian's" stare remained intense, yet was saturated with a sense of puzzlement.
Thinking Fool: "Cherry 7-Up?” I said with a questioning tone. (For a brief second, the waiter's intense stare made me wonder if I had just made up the name of the drink or ever actually consumed one outside my dreams.) “Umm, how about a cranberry juice?”
"Russian" Waiter: You want large or small?
Thinking Fool: Large.
Towards the middle of the meal, the waiter returned to our table for a few seconds. It was his first trip to see us since taking our order (a different waiter brought out our food). As he was filling my water glass, the waiter became noticeably agitated.
"Russian" Waiter: Sir, your glass is as dry as the desert and you didn’t say anything! (You have to love the phrase, "Dry as the desert!" Can't imagine too many Russians get to use that one.)
Thinking Fool: Oh, well, nobody was around for me to say anything. Plus, I knew you’d be back eventually. (I'm not the type who usually gets that miffed by waitstaff blunders.)
"Russian" Waiter: (Incredibly perturbed) "Sir, you should have yelled!"
Yes, I’m certain that would have gone over well. “HEY WAITER. MY GLASS IS AS DRY AS THE DESERT. GET OVER HERE AND FILL IT UP WITH SOME WATER, NOW!” I think he would have come to the table, peered into my soul, grabbed me by my shirt, and said, "If you ever show me up like that again, so help me God, I’ll puncture your larynx with a steak knife. You understand?”
I didn’t bother telling him that he forgot to bring my cranberry juice. I would have rather had a Shirley Temple anyway.
Comments
Hmm, Long ago and far away, when I was a wee one, I was told that a Shirley Temple was ginger ale with a marichino (spl?) cherry in it. It was something cool to order for a child or adult who didn't want alcohol. Well, it's good that I learned the update. But then, I'm a devout gin and tonic girl now.
Posted by: Lois at October 10, 2005 03:14 PM
