I work in a restaurant, *everyone who knows me sighs heavily*, I KNOW I MENTION IT A LOT. I just can’t help sharing my stories about working in a restaurant, it has left me with a number of hilarious experiences stemming from various encounters with rather eccentric characters. I’m not saying that waiters can’t be stranger than the customers, I can guarantee that I’ve come across as rather odd. I’ve asked someone how they’d like their chicken done. I’ve come to take orders without having a pen. I’ve replied to a man’s complaint about it being too stuffy with a “thank you”. I’ve sang happy birthday terribly to a young lad whose family chose not to sing along. The list goes on, unfortunately. Yet I like to think that I make quite a normal customer, well at least not weird enough to make it to another waiter’s blog post.
As the only single girl in work, I’m often sent to tables with young good looking lads by my boss and co-workers who worry that at the ripe old age of 19, I may be doomed to be a lonely spinster forever. Alas, nothing ever comes of their efforts. That’s not to say I don’t have my admirers, it’s just they’re not exactly ideal. I attract a bizarre species of male customers, who usually dine alone.
Tom was my first ever admirer. He was a socially awkward middle aged man who stuttered through conversation regarding his daily life, world news and literature. He carefully examined the menu each time he came yet he’d inevitably order the minestrone soup and sea bass followed by apple pie and tea. He was a man who obviously did not stray from his comfort zone. He did not tip but he once gifted me a book “As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning’ which is actually quite a beautiful and poetic read. The second gift I received from him contrasted greatly with that sweet, thoughtful one. He gave me a Trump dollar. Yes, you heard me, a Trump dollar. In fact, it states that it’s worth 4 billion dollars. Tom had recently discovered internet shopping and decided to start a Trump merchandise collection. He didn’t have any strong political views, he simply stated that Trump merchandise was a great way to start a conversation. Amongst his collection was a Trump bobblehead and the classic matching Make America Great Again cap and t-shirt. My personal favourite was his Trump head talking pen with Trump’s greatest quotes such as “I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will make Mexico pay for that wall”. However you may have noticed my use of the past tense in this paragraph, I haven’t seen Tom in a few months now. Perhaps his Trump merchandise obsession left him with little money to spend on dinner out yet alone enough to fulfil his role as my unofficial sugar daddy.
Thankfully, another man has come along to fill the hole in my heart. The first time he came, he came alone, I seated him and hurried back to the bar to exclaim to my co-workers his likeness to Klaus from The Vampire Diaries. Only one other girl had seen it and completely agreed with me. I was a little giddy, curious if it was in fact the actor that played Klaus. I was soon to find out that it wasn’t. His personality uncovered this evidence. He was odd. His eyes followed me as I walked up and down the restaurant. He spoke at a speed of about 50 words per minute (fyi this is very very slow compared to world averages, yes, I may have done some research). He would thank me for his food about 10 seconds after I had given it to him and I was already about 3 metres away. He clumsily spilt his beer all over himself and his table resulting in his move to a different table. He was not the charming Klaus I knew from The Vampire Diaries, he was much creepier (yes, creepier than a character who is a literal vampire). This is how he gained his nickname of Creepy Klaus.
Creepy Klaus came again approximately a month later with his mother but after that I didn’t see him again, that is until recently. Until this third visit to the restaurant he had not shown much interest in me apart from the constant staring. When he came up to the till to take care of his bill, he made what I believe to be his first “move”, but not before searching his many pockets for his wallet for what felt like an eternity. He gave me his card and as I typed the amount he owed into the card machine, he asked my name. I answered politely and asked him the same, (I’ve forgotten the answer which is why he’s still being referred to as Creepy Klaus). Then in an extreme moment of discomfort, I handed him the card machine while he simultaneously reached out his hand for a handshake. An awkward three way handshake involving the card machine, myself and Creepy Klaus ensued. In the act of this handshake, Creepy Klaus ended up hitting a button on the card machine. This not ONLY cancelled the transaction but also meant that the machine had to be restarted which lengthened this uncomfortable experience. He began to enquire about whether or not we did take-away. My co-worker and I informed him that we did. Then he announced that he would like a take-away. This struck us as a little strange considering that he had already eaten an entire pizza but hey I wasn’t one to judge so I asked him what he would like to order. He pointed to the fridge full of beers and this conversation played out:
“I’ll have one of those”
“Oh….ehm…I suppose you could if you like…”
“How much are they?”
“About four euro, I think.”
“That’s a bit pricey.”
“Well we are a restaurant y’know, maybe try Tesco around the corner.”
“Oh yeah, I might.”
*Creepy Klaus pauses*
“Well I better go then…”
“Okay bye now, thank you.”
*Creepy Klaus keeps eye contact as he leaves slowly*
It must have been this enchanting conversation which fed Creepy Klaus’ infatuation with me. I was informed by a fellow co-worker that a rather strange man had been in and had asked for “the tall waitress’ name”. Following a vivid description, it was confirmed that he was in fact Creepy Klaus. Whilst I was slightly flattered, I was also insulted that he had forgotten my name regardless of the fact that I had forgotten his. I haven’t seen Klaus in the restaurant since the card machine incident but that’s not to say I haven’t seen him. On the night that I went out to celebrate the end of my Leaving Cert, I was dancing away on the dance floor, slutdrop here and a shimmy there when I saw a pair of unmistakable staring eyes across the room. There Creepy Klaus stood at the bar, looking directly at me, with a scotch on the rocks in his hand (that’s how I remember him but perhaps the alcohol I consumed embellished the story in my mind). That’s when I shimmied away.
As an avid supporter of the rule of three, I hate to only discuss two admirers in this blog post but I must admit that Tom and Creepy Klaus are the only notable suitors whom I have come to know through working as a waitress. Yet I’m not complaining, two has been just plenty but who could be next? I’ve already experienced the sugar daddy and the stalker; bring on whatever peculiar character is coming.