Presumably a member of the Cleveland Cavaliers dance team dunks the ball during a break in a recent Cavaliers and Celtics game. ???
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Life as a Waitress: Applebee's or Not
"Are you kidding me?" |
As evidenced by the ashes on his forehead, Buck had already attended Ash Wednesday services by the time we met for our weekly breakfast at Nick's Diner. Pointing to the ashes, I said, "I see you forgot to bathe again."
"May a plague of locusts descend upon you and your progeny. For, as you know, my friend, sins of disrespect do not go unpunished."
As we approached our favorite table, the one facing Bancroft Street and the golf course on the other side, our young, precocious waitress, Sara, was bringing coffee, and sporting smudged ashes on her forehead. "Oh no, not you too," I said. "Sack cloth and ashes! Spare me."
"Ashes, but not sack cloth. This little bitty skirt is not the least bit ascetic. I have the receipt to prove it."
Buck could not restrain himself. "Ascetic? What's with that? That isn't a word waitresses use."
"Meaning waitresses are stupid?" she asked.
Buck, who is usually adept at recovering from his impulsive statements, seemed to hesitate a moment before replying, "Not all, Sara. It was just a shock to hear the word, ascetic, come from the mouth of a beautiful young lass like yourself."
"Self-serving flattery never worked before."
"Of course, Forgive me. I hear you're doing well in your Shakespeare course."
Sara laughed, " Buck, I would love to engage you in a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed."
Just when I thought Buck was going to stomp out of the diner, he jumped out of his chair and high-fived Sara. "Perfect, you do know your Shakespeare!"
Observing those around us enjoying Nick's creations, I tried to direct the conversation back to the business at hand, namely ordering food. " I would like the the Boston Breakfast, please." Sara, getting the hint, asked Buck for his order which was "The Classic."
After Sara left to put in our orders, I asked, "So what are you giving up for Lent this year? As I recall, last year you gave up bungee-jumping -- without a bungee."
"Very funny, my friend. Explain to me again why I continue to share breakfast with you."
"Perhaps because I'm the only one who can tolerate you on a weekly basis. But seriously, what are you giving up for Lent this year?"
"Having sex with alien life forms."
"I see," I said. "I'm sorry to hear that your fantasy sex life has come to an end."
"You 're a sick person. And I'm not telling you or anybody about my Lenten resolution."
"Good plan," I said, "I like it. No one will know when you break it." At this point Sara was delivering our meals.
"Sara," Buck asked, "are you familiar with the story of Applebee's restaurant that fired a waitress after she displayed on Facebook a comment by a religious minister who refused to give her a tip?"
"Yes I am, and if you don't tip me, I will rent a billboard with your picture and the words 'Buck is so cheap, he stiffs waitresses.'"
"Take it easy. We're on your side. We know that you don't receive the minimum wage and depend on tips to pay your tuition."
" Did you watch President Obama's State of the Union speech Tuesday?" she asked. We both had.
"Then you know that a person who works full time for a year at the minimum wage will end the year below the poverty line. Then consider, where does that leave waitresses and waiters who depend on tips to make up the difference?"
We left an extra generous tip, thanking our lucky stars that our livelihood had not been tied to the so-called Minimum Wage.
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