Riggle me this, childhood heroes.

Last night, I waited on an actor named Aaron Lohr. Who? you're wondering. The star of such hit movies like Newsies, The Mighty Ducks (and their sequels), and Rent. Still not sure?



Ok so maybe that doesn't help, but when Newsies came out I was thirteen. And Aaron was my first man-crush. Since I was always super skinny as a kid, seeing this man(or teenage boy, rather) who was ripped, sparked my interest in my body. I wanted to look like this guy so badly. To the point of starting to workout in high school just to try. It didn't really work, sadly.

However, since this man was at my table and he's not a big movie star or anything, I thought I'd actually tell him that he was my hero as a kid and my inspiration for working out. This is something that is frowned upon at most restaurants and even frowned upon by myself. But, I was really ready to just say something.

SO, I walk over to his table to check on him and his friend, and as I'm about to ask if they need anything, I hear him in the middle of a story.

"so she grabs my g-string, pulls the string out of my ass and snaps it, then shoves a dollar in my pouch and spanks my ass."

Um, WHAT?????????????

What kind of conversation is that? I mean, what? So, there was no way I could tell my childhood hero that he was, in fact, my hero after I heard that! I mean, WHAT?????

Good lord. Word to the wise, waiters ARE listening when you talk at your tables.

Riggle me this, waiter rant!

As a server, and I know I write about this a lot, we are subjected to ill treatment. Actually, that's not just servers, that's anyone in the service industry. People like Steven Slater happen everyday, however, their freak-outs don't usually require the police or an inflatable slide. Sometimes, they are just your run of the mill, beat up your heart, defeating, humiliating situations in which you just don't get why they have to happen.

Last night, I was working in the club of my restaurant. I had a table of two complain to me that their service was less than perfect. I can't say I disagree with them, but their complaint was that I didn't refill their waters and I didn't get their drinks in a timely manner and I didn't check in with them enough. The man said to me, "You can ask anyone who works here, I come in all the time." My reply was, "yes I know, I've waited on you before." The man, "No you haven't." Well, I'm not really sure what to do with that because I most certainly have. I remember anyone who's asked for my name over five times. And in my defense, I filled his water about eight times in the course of thirty minutes, when he ordered his drink, I put it in the computer, then walked to the bar, then walked it back to his table. A task that took all of forty-five seconds. And in the club, I generally don't verbally check in with my tables because of the music, but how about the six or seven times I walked by your table and made direct eye contact? Does that not count as checking in? Aren't you an adult who can ask for things they need?

Anywho, that happened. Then I went over to this table of five; four men, one woman. And the woman was a total bitch. She had been dominating most of the men at the table. She even went so far as to tell one of the guys' son's that he couldn't have a coke because that was too much caffeine for how late it was. It was just a tacky move, she wasn't even the kid's mom! Anyways, I let them sit for a few minutes with dessert menu's then I went to ask them if they would like anything before the show was over. She immediately said, "JESUS! Would you stop talking to us?" I mean, what?!?!? It was 100% out of the blue. I can't even begin to figure out why that would be an outburst from her. BUt the kid at the table said, "Actually, I'd like to order something, please." There it is. Please. One of the most important words in the English language. I was damn near ready to comp anything this kid wanted just for having manners. I just think it's amazing that a woman of forty is so rude, yet this kid, clearly in her company, had wonderful manners and treated everyone with respect. It was fantastic, so it definitely made up for the bitch. A little bit.


Then the other shoe dropped. My first table that complained left after the show. The man stopped by me and said goodnight. I apologized again and he told me not to worry about it. I assumed that meant we were all cool. Oh no. Oh no no no no no no. The woman at that table came up to me and said, I shit you not, "by the way, I just wanted to let you know that you're incompetent. That's why you're just a waiter." I had no idea what to say. A million things come to my mind in retrospect. All of them equally if not more hateful than that last. But, at that moment, I was defeated. I retreated into myself and allowed all of the blather of the evening to take over and I just sank. So, I looked at her and said, "I'm sorry you feel that way," I walked away to the employee restroom and had to fight back my tears. I just don't understand. I thought, from the guy saying not to worry about it, that we were cool. I know that I messed things up a little bit. I'm not denying it. But why did she have to just dig that knife in a little bit deeper?

I've concluded that these two women, while having an attractive exterior, have dark and ugly souls and one day karma will kick them in the ass. Even if it doesn't, I still take a small bit of joy in hoping that it will.

Riggle me this, a complaint, you say?

SO, yes, I work at a restaurant. I'm sure you all know this already. It's not the most glamorous of jobs, but it's my job. Usually, my nights are fun and kind of boring, but last night, the best thing happened. I was complained about. It doesn't happen often, but I LOVE when it does.



This woman, who was insanely skinny and beautiful stopped my manager on her way out and told her that she was irate about her experience. She was dining with her boyfriend, his sister and his mother for his birthday. The sister was a quite large woman(this is important to the story, I promise). Anywho, this woman was pissed because I was rude and condescending. She said that when someone asks a question at the table about the food, she expects a full on definition, not what I said.

Sidebar-the question asked by the large sister was, "What's the difference between marbled and lean?" So, this is a question asked by basically everyone dining at my restaurant everyday. Being that this woman was large, I was very careful not to use the word "fat." According the the skinny bitch, my response was a very bitchy, "do you kno what lean is, 'cause marbled just the opposite." The wording was spot on, but the tone was totally off. I was actually really pleasant. I asked, "do you know what lean means?" and waited politely for her to respond with a yes. Then i said very lightly, "well marbled is just the opposite." And she was very happy with that description. Apparently, skinny bitch was not.

She also said that my restaurant is very expensive and she expects top notch service when she spends so much money. First of all, it's not that expensive, especially by New York standards. Secondly, she got top notch service. I was in one of my happy moods with my tables. Literally, every other table gushed to my face about how nice and wonderful I was. So, I had no idea what her problem was.

But, she continued. She was also thinking that her sides were not delivered to the table. She said that she ordered the seasonal vegetable and it never came. Well, my manager asked is she had squash on her table. She answered yes. ANd he informed her that that was, in fact, the seasonal vegetable. Well, this kind of slowed her down, but not really.

She then spouted about how it really wasn't that important to figure out what was delivered and what wasn't, but given the circumstances, if she had not been with her boyfriend's family, she would have made a spectacular scene upon leaving. She would have let me have it and made sure the whole restaurant would have known how awful of a server I was. But, lucky for us, she was so much more classy about it and bitched out a manager in front of all of the people she didn't want to make a scene in front of. She also claimed to be a twenty percent tipper, but tonight she could only feel comfortable leaving a fifteen percent tip.

So... in response to all of this, I have this to say.

First. Me rude and condescending? Yes I am. I am very proud of it. But, sorry lady, I wasn't rude nor condescending to you. You are mistaking me being incredibly nice and wonderful to you for some sort of bullshit in your own fucked up head.

Second. Not willing to make a scene in front of your boyfriend's family? Well, too late, you certainly made one when you decided to rant about everything in front of them and the staff. I definitely heard all about what a trashy piece of shit you really are. And class? you definitely don't have it. Nor do I, because I'm blogging about how horrible you are. If either of us had any, we'd just let it go and be on our separate ways by now.

Third. Let's rethink your math. Your bill was $250. You left me $45 bucks. That's an 18% tip, not 15. So, don't think you're super smart or something, because you're not.

Fourth. Though you might be skinny and hot, your personality makes you ugly. Ugly beyond belief and I feel sad for that man if he decides to one day marry you. He's going to regret that decision for the rest of his life if he does.

So, to wrap all of this up. Bitch, you got great service. I know you think that I'm a douchebag, and to some, I am. But to you, I was amazing. I own up when things go wrong, but not one thing happened to go wrong with your table. If you had issues with things that go right in your life, then I suggest seeing a therapist for not being able to see the world as it is.

And in that, thank you for listening!

RIggle me this, WHY? WHY? WHY?

OK, so if you didn't read my previous post, then read it and come back. I'll wait.


Ok, are you back?


Yesterday, Monkey ate my cell phone. Matt being the wonderful boyfriend that he is gave me his old cell phone to use as a temporary. And guess what! I freaking lost it today. Somewhere between the lockeroom at the gym and the gym floor, I misplaced my phone and now it's gone. Good lord! I can't believe my luck is so bad today. At least I know it can't get any worse. SO now I'm off to have a wonderful rest of my day.


XOXO

Riggle me this, why do you eat everything???

My dog ate my cell phone. I woke up yesterday morning to this sitting on my dresser sitting next to a perfect cell phone.
I hoped and hoped and hoped that it was Matt's phone and not mine. (Matt and I have the same phone.) I picked up the good phone, and it was matt's. My heart sank. I had to fight the urge to beat the shit out of my dog. I don't beat him, but this definitely tempted me.


Somehow he pulled it out of my shorts pocket which were folded on a chair in my bedroom. I dont' even know how he got them out.

I couldn't believe it. Sometimes I feel like I'm living in the movie "Marley and Me." There are moments that he misbehaves and I want to send him away, but other moments that I'm overjoyed and filled with love for him. BUt, this is really what my phone looks like right now, so I had to post it.


He really is the best puppy ever. I just have to remember that he's a puppy and he likes to eat things. HAHAHAHA. I mean, how could you not love that face?

Riggle me this, why is it so difficult?

I have a lot of friends who claim they are "ready for a boyfriend." I think knowing you are ready for something like that is definitely the first step towards getting what you want. But what happens next? Do you just go out and find it like a simple snap of your fingers? Do you troll the internet looking for a hookup in hopes that they might turn into something else? Or do you hit up the bars with your friends hoping that the bartender or one of the patrons might actually strike up a conversation and it could lead to something more?

I think what you're supposed to do is all of the above. I mean, really put yourself out there with the best intentions and hope for the best. I suppose that's what I did. Granted, that doesn't make me an expert, but I can at least share what I've learned.

Too often, my friends or whoever tell me that it's very difficult to meet someone. It's actually not difficult to meet anyone at all. It's difficult to find someone who's willing to jump with you; someone who's willing to put themselves in harm's way in the possibility of getting hurt. It's scary. That part is definitely something I know a lot about.


Sometimes, I wonder what made my boyfriend stay with me. I try to imagine my life without him and I simply can't. Yes, I know how lucky I am. I have someone who literally has stayed with me through a lot of bad, but also a lot of good. He is someone who supports me without question and constantly challenges me to be a better person. In the beginning of our relationship, I wasn't so aware. I was like everyone else I know; scared out of my mind.

I thought that if I was in a twosome, suddenly I lost too much of my one-ness. I thought that I would become someone I didn't know. I also thought that my life would just become so boring and I would end up resenting and regretting my choice. But now I now that it's just not how it is. I found someone who really has improved my life.

Someone told me recently that he didn't know me anymore. Well, yeah. I've become someone even I didn't know. I used to make fun of the people like me. The people who were in love. I used to joke that love was for suckers and that I would never fall in love. Here's a little secret, I only did that because I really wanted it. It was so much easier to make fun of love than own up that I was just as sappy and romantic as everyone else. So, it's easy to imagine not knowing me when I didn't let anyone know me.


But that's how it goes, right? When we're single, we tend to hold back from fear. Fear of being judged, of putting ourselves out there and getting hurt. Isn't that how it happens? We sit around and tell ourselves that we just haven't met the right one, and more importantly, it's never our own fault. We can't possibly be the ones that are crazy. We aren't the ones that do anything wrong, oh no. And if you think you haven't ever done something like this, well maybe you haven't. But chances are, you have. And it's one shitty thing to realize. Trust me, I know there are several people in this city who think I'm insane. And from their perspective, they would be right. If they knew the whole scenario, they might re-think everything. And as much as I hate to admit all of that, it's true.

However, that's not the point, now is it?

SO, back to the whole relationship thing. I know someone who recently said that it's far more easier to meet someone if you're heterosexual than homosexual. Well, that's just not true at all. I know far more straight people who are single than gays. I mean, look at how many websites we have for meeting each other. Yes, most of them are hookup sites, but they still connect us. We seemingly outnumber the straight people of the city, have so many bars and parties to go to that it seems we are in CONSTANT contact with each other. Straight girls, I think, have the worst deal in the city. They are our best friends and are always just meeting more gay men. I mean, one of my best friends has finally gotten into the habit of meeting a new gay with, "you're gay? I'm sure you're a lovely person, but I already have my quota of you people." And that's not such a bad thing to do, she needs to meet more men. As do all of the women I know.

In reality though, it's difficult to meet anyone, anywhere. THere isn't a city in the world where you won't hear single people talking about how hard it is to meet someone. But then, let's start from the beginning. Are you really ready for someone? Are you ready for someone to come into your life, possibly make a small mistake, or be rude, or take you for granted, and stay around? Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying mistakes like

cheating or beating you. But, I'm just wondering. Out of everyone I know that says they are ready, are you really ready for something? Or do you want something easy and one-sided? Because then you'll know.

Riggle me this, I clean because i love?

So, when I was younger, and, I mean, YOUNGER, I lived for going back to school. Getting school supplies was my favorite thing in the world. By the beginning to middle of August, I would have all of my pens, paper, notebooks, and if possible my textbooks for the year. Yeah, I know, I'm a school nerd. BIG TIME! Don't judge. I loved, and still do, learning and yes, I getting a fun tingle in my belly when I see a sale at Staples. Call me any name in the book you want, and I promise I'll just smile it away, because I love school supplies.

The past few years though, I've found my love for school supplies to be as strong as ever, but something new has come around with it; cleaning supplies. Well, more specifically, basic cleaning supplies. I know, I know, I'm old. And most of you would say it's just because I'm all coupled off and stay at home all the time. But, you'd be wrong. This love affair has been building since I was about twenty-four or twenty-five, long before I even met Matt. So, yeah. Take that judgey mcjudgies.

Anywho, if you need advice on how to clean anything in your apartment, or house for that matter, you really need only a few things to clean anything. Windex (not to be like the dad from MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING, but Windex clean everything!), Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, a broom, a swiffer wet-jet, and a vacuum. That's it. Well, maybe some paper towels too. But seriously. There is no need to go by all of the harsh odor chemically bullshit priced cleaning supplies to get everything done. And, yes, I'm well aware that I sound like some sort of desperate housewife in need of a good lay, but I think cleaning is a wonderful wonderful thing and everyone needs to know about it.

Two days ago, after about two years of battling with my shark hand-vac and being dissatisfied with my always almost clean rug in my living room, I purchased a real honest to goodness vacuum cleaner. Cue the chorus of hallelujah. It seriously was the most miraculous thing of my month, which now in retrospect of writing this, makes me a little sad that this one purchase was the best thing about July for me, but whatever, I'm excited. I have a new vacuum and my rug has never been cleaner. I don't even think it was this clean when I bought it. Vacuuming it makes it looks brand spanking new and it feels so soft and wonderful. And that's saying a lot, considering I have a dog that sheds as much as he does.

So, I love cleaning. I'm a dork. I'm a nerd. I love school supplies too. I doubt either thing will change anytime soon. But, hey, that's me. I can own my nerdiness and wear it with pride. And I have a super clean apt. Do you?

Riggle me this, why do you hate me?

So, yes, another story about work.


Why are servers the most hated people in the world. Do people think we're dumb? Do people think that we aren't educated, or human beings, or anything worth giving a little kindness and consideration to?

I mean, I definitely know the answers to the above, but I feel like many people think that the person waiting on them have no real life experience, brains, ethics, morals, passions, interests, or a soul. But, it's not the way it is. Many people forget that Suze Orman was once a server, but let's face it, the bitch is smart. She managed to begin her empire off of her tips. Does she even have an empire? Either way, it doesn't really matter.

But, there is a hatred towards servers that we deal with on a little bit deeper level; foreigners. Tonight, someone said to me, after 15 minutes of looking at the menu and not ordering anything, "we're french, we need time to translate what you call a language"

Now, I'm sure what he meant by this was, "we're not from here, we need time to translate (then the what you call a was supposed to mean 'i'm searching for the word') this language. But, the way it came out was, "i'm french and far more superior to you and your country, our language is better and I spit on you." So, now it's up to me to not only maintain my own sanity, but I have to defend my country too? For real?


Ok so maybe I don't. i just have to walk away, which suits me just fine.

Riggle Me This, Angry Lesbians!

So, why ARE the girls just so angry?

This is something I wonder about every time I encounter angry lesbians. I just don't get it! I know a few lesbians that I get along with famously, but there are some that just seem to hate anything with a penis. Some tend to hate cute little gay boys even more, something that I will just never understand.

Last night, at work, this is what happened.

I greeted my table of lesbians with a pleasant "hello," and "how are you?" And was greeted with a grunted "hi," with an added eyeroll from the more butch woman once he looked me up and down. The second lesbian was a little bit nicer, clearly the lipstick lesbian of the twosome, minus the cute factor. She was a little, but not much nicer.

Their drinks were pretty typical, the butch one ordered a beer (typical) and a water and the lipstick said to me, "I'll have two glasses of water, room temperature, as if they've never had a thought of ice a day in their life." For real. That's what she said to me. I was like, um, ok crazy.

So then, as is standard in my line of work, I was multi-tasking. Big surprise for a waiter. But as I was getting drinks for several tables, they apparently felt they were waiting too long, so they pulled aside the sweet little host and told her they were very upset, very, very, very upset with how long their drinks were taking. This was informed to me as I was carrying a tray of about 14 drinks to my section. I did make sure to drop of their drinks first, but instead of a thank you for their drinks, I got, "so, i'm gonna have..." That's when I stopped her and told her that I would be right back. Instead of saying, "ok," I got, "we're ready to order now. hurry back."

So, I was trying to figure out how to be nice to them without being condescending or losing my cool with them. So I went back and took their order. Each of them had about 6 or 7 special requests for their food. This is something I don't understand about people in restaurants. 1 or 2 things different, ok, but seriously, 6 or 7 each. Why even bother coming out? Stay the fuck at home! Anywho, as they were ordering they each made a point of repeating everything about 3 times and slower each time as to make sure that I (apparently ignorant and stupid) understood the words coming out of their mouths. Then, the kicker was that the man of the table then says to me, "and that can all come out as it's ready, we're really not fussy at all."

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??? NOT FUSSY, MY ASS! I had a full fucking page for both of their special requests! We're not fussy. O-M-G!!! I wanted to punch them both in the vagina. (and no i don't support violence towards women or anyone, so don't get all up in arms about this and call the authorities on me or anything crazy).

So, if you think it's done then, you'd be mistaken. Every few minutes they needed something new. The manly one pointed out that her blue cheese dressing tasted more like ranch and didn't actually believe that it was what she ordered. Then her salad didn't have asparagus in it. Then, her girlfriend didn't have enough intelligent conversation to add, god only knows what their problems were, but they became MY problems.

Newsflash people! I'm a waiter, not a therapist. Don't unload on me because that's what happens in the movies. We're not best friends. We are in a 2 hour relationship because I want your money. Basically I'm your whore for 2 hours, you pay me, then I never see you again. That's how this is supposed to work. So don't give me your life story because I don't care!!!

And maybe, just maybe, I'm the one that's angry and not the lesbians, but I still blame them. And I will never have the answer to why lesbians hate men and gay men so much, but I will continue to try to bridge that gap somehow!

Riggle Me This: why are people so effing WEIRD?

So...was it a full moon somewhere tonight? Or were the crazies just out in full hot, lack of a better word, fullness? It was just one right after the other tonight and I can't for the life of me figure out why I had to deal with so much bullshit tonight.

To kick off the evening, I had a party of about 15. Four, yes, four were children under the age of 5. All of which were, I guess, supposed to be under the supervision of me. Because I didn't have other tables or anything. Shout to the parents, "i'm not your babysitter. You are. I shouldn't have to deal with your child throwing cars, toys, or crayons at me or the people around you. You have kids, we don't, you can handle it, we shouldn't have to!"

Anyway, they were basically fine, except their idiot son kept falling off his chair because no one was watching them, and the one single older guy at the table kept making insanely bad jokes all night. He was like the embarrassing dad, the kind that try really hard to keep up with the trends, even if the trend was about ten years ago. He had on a purple polo with a popped color, and all of his jokes were in the spirit of annoying server jokes that we have all heard a million times. I think everyone now knows the type I"m talking about. Well, joke after joke, I just smiled politely and tried to blow it off, because well, he was annoying. But as they were leaving, I was saying my thank you's to them, he looks at me and says, "That was awesome, you're hot, I should give you my number."

Perplexed, I responded, "you need to behave."

"I did behave tonight, that was the problem."

I was shocked. Who invited old ass gay uncle Rodney anyways. I don't know if that's really his name, but that's what I'm calling him. Seriously, though. Who invited him??? I high-tailed it to another table and just tried to move on.

During that whole fiasco, I had walked by a table of 3 gay men seated at another one of my tables. One of them accidentally elbowed my ass. I turned to excuse myself when he said, "wow you're rock solid!" Well, yes I was flattered by his obvious compliment to my rear end, but i didn't really know where it could go. They looked mid-forties, and like they had money, so, i figured I should flirt a little bit to get a bigger tip, right? So I go through the motions with them and smile a lot more than I normally do and blah blah blahblahblah. I set their bill down and one guy pays with a black AMEX card. I'm thinking to myself that I'm gonna get a huge tip. WRONG! I should have known better. People with black AMEX's never tip over 15%. It's like a stupid rule they have to keep the money they make. ON a bill of $162 they left me 18 dollars.

18 DOLLARS!!!! Are you kidding me? I almost chased them down just to homo smack the shit out of them. They got to touch my butt, they got to have me actually flirt with them. And yes, I have already entertained, briefly, the notion that my flirting was bad and that's how they were telling me. BUt, I've flirted many many times before, and this was top notch for me. TRUST.

Onto the next guy. This guy was hosting a bunch of people from some foreign country and he was really trying to impress them. He ordered a bottle of Shiraz (we have 2 by the bottle) and he said he didn't care which bottle. One bottle is $32 and one is $56. I figured I didn't wanna just assume he wanted the more expensive, so I gave him the cheaper one. So I go to the bar, I get the glasses, I get my wine key, I get the glasses set on the table and I finally present the wine and he looks at it all confused and asks to see the menu. I figured he just wanted to double check the vintage on the menu and the bottle. NOPE! He looked at me square in the face and said, "i wanted the other one." I almost lost my shit on this guy. I mean, are you for real? You tell me one minute that you don't care which one, but I bring you one and you say you wanted the other one?!?! Just order what you fucking want? I am not a damn mind reader.

There were more instances tonight, but these were the standouts. As I am writing all of this, I'm trying to figure out hat was going on tonight because seriously, I can't riggle myself enough brain power to understand why I have to deal with crazy people and all of that bullshit. So if anyone has the answer, please let me know!