Criminal Waffle Queen

 

(It was a strange and wonderful night.)

Yesterday, Othello the Spaniard decided to take a day off in order to go fishing with his buddies. So he was replaced by a woman named Denver who has been bouncing around various locations until she can find a fulltime slot.

I could tell that she was a skilled artist right away. Everything she did was fast, fast, fast. She made the coffee fast. She cleaned the dishes fast. She cooked the waffles fast. You get the idea. A real pro.

I said, “This can’t be your first time on the floor.”

She said, “I’ve been in the game for many years. But I took five years off to raise my children. I was a stay-at-home mom.”

Anyway, my ass was dragging because it was my fourth ten-hour shift in a row. Therefore, I gave her section one. That’s where all the action is during the night shift.

At the beginning of the evening, she had the vast majority of the customers. And you should have seen her go. She was dancing around like a ballerina. I know that some of you will scoff. But being a good server isn’t easy. You have to have lots of energy and a good memory. Unfortunately, I’m a little lazy and I can never remember a fucking thing.

Yet there’s good news. Even though my tables were few and far between, my customers kept giving me great tips. Then a wonderful thing occurred around ten p.m. These four ladies sat in my section and wanted water. So I brought it to them with a smile on my face. They were blonde and very attractive. I even popped a Woodrow just gazing upon their lovely faces.

The oldest one said, “Would you mind taking our photo with my phone?”

I said, “You bet. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.”

After that, they ordered a triple hash brown, a double hash brown, and a plain waffle. Their bill only came to $17.25. Then they handed me a hundred-dollar bill and told me to keep the change. That’s an eighty-three dollar tip for those of you who are counting at home.

I said, “Are you girls stoned?”

The youngest one smiled at me. “No, we’re perfectly sober.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “This is insane.”

She said, “It’s our pleasure.”

Then they walked out the door after finishing their meal.

I guess that kind of shit happens once in a lifetime. I’ll be telling that story on my deathbed.

Anyway, let’s get back to Denver. She was a little disappointed that the store wasn’t busier. She was used to working at Waffle House in the mornings where the action is fast and furious.

I said, “Overnights is all about pulling your twenty to thirty tickets. The customers tip better than the morning crowd.  You have section one, so there’s no way you’re walking out of here with less than $250 for the shift.”

“But it’s goddamn boring.”

I nodded. “Yes. And let’s hope it stays that way. Excitement is for young people. I much prefer slow and steady.”

During the night, I got to know Denver a little better. She’s going through a rough divorce, and her husband now has custody of the children. Plus she has two felonies on her rap sheet. One is for assaulting a cop for which she spent five years under house arrest. And another is for possession of meth which landed her in jail for six months.

With that said, she’s still the greatest waitress I’ve ever laid eyes upon. And it was a real pleasure to work with her.  Conversely, when I’m tied down with Pork-Chop Jane, I feel like I’ve been crucified by the time 7 a.m. rolls around. I love the girl to death, but she’s the laziest chick in the universe.

Overall, it was a wonderful night financially. I only wrote 14 tickets but ended up making $270 for the shift.