The couple stood at the hostess stand, heads together, pouring over a menu. After what seemed an interminable time, the hostess stomped over and slapped down the two menus on my bar counter for the two to sit, notifying me they were here for drinks and small plates. As she whipped around to walk back to her podium I caught the look on her face which only could read, 'Your problem now.'
The couple was interesting to say in the least. I refer to them as a 'Bob and Susan' couple. The woman, perhaps early thirties had dark, shoulder-length hair that was swept to one side and secured with a barrette. Her red, sweatered-turtleneck was adorned with a simple yet elegant gold necklace, and her complexion was fair. She was a silver spoon, country club loving, daddy's girl all grown up. She clearly held the guy's balls in some sort of death grip seeing as how he was catering to her, waiting for her opinion on everything before making even one decision one way or another. Some call that chivalry. To that degree? I call it spineless.
He was mid-thirties. Not a bad looking guy at all, but you could tell he was the computer geek of the bunch-- the "nice" guy. Side parted hair, glasses, argyle sweater vest. He's the push-over kind of guy who lets her pick out his outfit every morning. She was arguably the prettiest girl he would ever have a chance with, and he was whipped because of it.
You know those kinds of people you'd rather not have to talk to, but it's your job? That
would be them. I cleared my throat and placed down two bev naps, ready to go through the motions.
"Good evening you two. How is everything tonight?"
...Nothing. I got nothing. I raised my brows at the couple and proceeded. "This is our cocktail menu, and on the back of the food is our wine list in case you two are interested. Let me know if there is anything I could do for you." I stepped back and allowed the two for a minute to brainstorm.
First check back? Inconclusive.
Second check back? Inconclusive.
The girl was getting irritated. Raising her voice a few decibels, she began talking in a whirlwind of circles going a mile a minute.
"Is that what you wanted? A cocktail? I don't know if I like any of the ones that I've seen. But what about a wine? I think I'll have a wine. That sounds good to me. Or maybe I'll just get hot tea. Were you hungry? What were you looking at? Let's get an appetizer. Oh, you want the ahi tuna tartare? I've already had tuna today. Mmmmm. No. If you want it you can get it, but I'm not hungry anymore. I think I'll do the tea. Oh, no, that's right I have tea at home. There's no point in buying tea while we're out if I just have it at home anyway."
Seriously? It's a fucking drink order, not rocket science. Are you thirsty, and what are you in the mood for. Complicated, I know. I set two waters in front of the two, still deliberating.
So what do I do? I screw around by my cashwrap for a few minutes, penning out the first few lines to this blog because they are already getting on my nerves. Sensing that they have gotten quiet, I turn to look over my shoulder. Ready? No. False alarm. They have a tongue down each other's throats. Funny, I didn't realize there was a game of tonsil hockey on that evening. I may or may not have let out an audible "ugh" and frankly I don't care if it was.
I turn back to my work and in a few short, but awkwardly long, minutes they are back to sitting with their hands folded neatly in front of them, menus stacked. My signal has arrived.
"I'm so sorry to do this to you," the woman says with a halfway sneer across her face, "I just realized that we are cooking dinner on Tuesday and we need to go grocery shopping."
"On Tuesday? It's Friday," I retorted almost snorting at the horrible attempt of bullshitting a bullshitter.
"Yeah, well with the holidays we need to get it done before the market closes."
Yeahhh...there are three 24-hour groceries that are local, and mind you, it was only 5:30 on a Friday. The grocery stores were no where near closing time, and even if they were, they would still be there tomorrow and the day after that.
"Well? Happy shopping." What? Honestly, I had nothing else to say to the couple that could neither be polite nor make sense. What I wanted to say was something along the lines of 'up yours for taking up the middle two seats at my five-seater bar for absolutely nothing' but I resisted the urge.
On the way out of the restaurant, a waitress overheard the couple.
"Did you like her attitude? I didn't like her attitude."
"No, not at all, you're right. I didn't like it either."
Spectacular. Glad you tarts could finally agree on something.
-Malia Etienette
Photo Credit:
Follow the White Rabbit- www.hateandanger.wordpress.com
Nerd Couple- www.imgfave.com
Indecisive- www.calbuzz.com
Ecard- www.dailyedge.ie
Liar- www.playbuzz.com
Quote- www.pinterest.com
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