| I had a most interesting night at work tonight. Another server and I split a party of twelve that was divided between two tables. She had seven adults at hers, while I had five teenagers at mine. It was fine for the most part; the teens were fun and weren't that demanding. However, there was this one, awkward boy at my table. I presumed he was probably in his middle teens, and he seemed like the sort that might very well have been able to recite a few of The Decemberists' lyrics had I asked. Throughout the meal, he did odd things. These odd things include, but are not limited to: building a giraffe out of butter balls, carrots, and who knows what else; doing that bizarre trick where one pretends there's an invisible thread tied to one side of one's upper lip so that as one pulls upward, one raises one's lip; and demonstrating how far back his fingers bend. This last one was accompanied by the statement, "They're like caveman fingers!" Anyway, towards the end of the meal, I noticed he had out a red, ultra fine tipped Sharpee and appeared to be writing or drawing something on the back of one of our flatbread crackers that we serve at Shaker Village. Since I was at the table to pick up the teens' plates, and I asked him if he was done. He covered the cracker with one hand and informed me that he was still working on his food (in his defense, there was quite a bit left on the plate). As I was walking away, I heard one of the girls say something about a "number," and I wondered whether this kid was actually leaving me his number on a cracker. Sure enough, the next time I went back, the teens had vacated. There, placed prominently in the middle of that awkward boy's plate was this: 
Needless to say, the serving and kitchen staff all got a huge kick out of this. As we were all laughing about it, an older woman emerged from the ladies' room and overheard our talk. I presume she was one of the adults from the party, as she went on to explain to me that she understood that under normal circumstances, this would be very creepy. However, apparently this teenage boy was only fifteen, and all of the kids had been greatly amused by this whole idea. Of course, I wonder what prompted him to have such an idea in the first place. Regardless, that was my night (or rather, a part of it). This is by far one of the funniest things I've had happen to me since I started waiting tables. [Dear readers, I feel compelled to beg you not to actually call dear, poor Ben. If I was more technologically-inclined, I would black out at least a few digits of the number.] |
