Thursday, December 01, 2005

Stories From A Utah Cocktail Waitress

Yes, it is true, I have a second job as a cocktail waitress, or the more PC term "server". I guess that is probably because the word cocktail will surely send me to hell here in Utah. One must not speak of anything that reminds people that there is in fact something sexual about the word cocktail and especially if you say it slowly in two separate words.

So being the sassy type it is amazing that I am able to make any dollars serving as I think it is a basic requirement to like people. It isn't that I don't like people, it is really that deep down inside I long to be an actress and what better practice than pretending to really enjoy drunk patrons trying to get their groove on? Nothing, I tell ya, no acting school can provide that kind of real life practice.

Case in point, last night the most interesting couple came into the bar, the Sky Bar to be exact. I know, I know, you are screaming in your head, 'don't tell the internet where you work, there are CREEPS out there that might find you'. Trust me on this, after working in a bar in a slinky little number having all sorts of oddities think they are your number one man, the internet creeps do NOT make me nervous, they just better tip well!

Back at the ranch, I was working this hot Wednesday night in the bar and it was disco night - oh yes the crowd cheers. Into the bar walks Mr. Mafia and his lady. This couple would prove to be my entire night's entertainment. I kept wanting to call him "Joey" and he kept calling me "Dollface" which I think will be my new mob name, "Dollface Server Girl", yes people will shake just upon hearing that name. So "Joey" wanted his woman to eat something, but she informed me that "she was on her period and just can't eat". I nodded like this made some sort of perfect sense. Joey however didn't get the memo, and tried ordering anything pricey for her from the menu. After she refused all fifty menu items she settled on some pasta. Yes, perfect sense.

Joey on the other hand just wanted to drink, and Crown was the shot of choice. Yes, he and the DJ needed to drink. Now I am unsure how this came out sounding but I had to keep telling the DJ, "here is another drink for you bought by the gentleman in the ... well ... the one over there". I couldn't tell him, "Mr. Buttafooko wants you to drink this sonny", it just wasn't possible without breaking character.

I also play a therapist as well here at the bar. I had to console this youngin' from Georgia who had been stood up by a girl he had asked out from his work. We talked about how he will pick up and go on, how this girl has missed out, and all sorts of other ego stroking phrases. Yes, he tipped well.

At the nights end I had made my dollars, cleaned up the mess and made it home without being pulled over by one of the five policeman that escorted me home. The streets of Salt Lake City are safe again.

Till next time ...


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