The Strangest Day...
... and strange it was. Sit down kiddies; the story isn't long at all.
So work was just that. Work. My manager was pissed at me because of the prior day. and it was hot enough to melt lead on the concrete on the back dock. Something told me I was closing this night, even though I didn't want to stay in this god-forsaken place for ten hours. Normal shift meeting occurs, with one of the hostess' sittin' behind me, askin' if I was alright. I just nodded my head, and let the problems of this hell-hole run off my back.
Shift starts. And what a dead start it is. But no sooner when I begin relaxing, thinking Sundays aren't all that bad, we get rushed. Guest after guest after guest walks into the building. It's not long before I'm sittin' with an entirely full section (six tables are NOT that easy to take care of, especially when more than half of them are the ghetto-esque types who want something else every single time ya come to the table), and the kitchen is backed-up. Somehow, I manage to keep my cool and guide myself through the mess.
This doesn't happen once, mind you; three times I go dead to busy. And each time got a little worse, the final attempt of managing a mess ending with table's meals becoming comped. Less money for me, right? Right. But this isn't even the end of it. Oh no, not by a long shot.
All of a sudden, the newest host brings over a duece. Lord behold, it's a table I've had in the past that I was able to get along with GREATLY. Not to mention they weren't shabby tippers, either. I begin to see a little light at the end of the tunnel. Then the same host (who is obviously a greenhorn in hosting) sits me another table. It's one of the biggest coincidences ever, because that table he was bringing was the exact same table that sat next to the first table I just got sat. These two sets of people talked all night long and both tipped my very generously. Now he they both are again, sittin' in my section, AGAIN. The money is startin' to look good for Darrel. But the biggest bombshell was still ahead.
How many of you have the honor to work with a family member? I realized I did just that, with one of the other new hostess'. Except, I did not realize she was related to me at first. And, um, well, I've hit on her plenty of times before knowing. The story on how we figured that out is a good one, too. I went up to the host stand and started talkin' about how all my checks now say 'Cowboy' on 'em, and how I'm no longer known as Darrel Adamowicz, but Cowboy Adamowicz. This host, she looks at me and says, "what is your last name???" Then she proceeds to spell it out perfectly. Then she starts talkin' about my aunts and uncles. And she knows where they are living. Needless to say, I'm freaked. Here is this gal who I was fliritng with, and I just now discovered that she's my cousin. Talk about an interesting night.
Not great cash, but loaded with weirdness. Now I'm helpin' her locate her father, and all the while I'm purging my mind of this filthiness. This is the closest thing I have to a sister... and it feels good.
~The Darrel-ly One.