honorary mention: that would be my last patio table of the evening. A young hyper guy with spiky blonde hair and an older foreign woman wandered in 15 minutes til close and told me that they were just there for drinks. I had to ask Young Guy for his ID and it seemed awkward not to ask for hers too. So i checked out his "high on life" picture and her Italian identification card. Young Guy joked around about how it was his big chance to get a girlie drink since nobody else was on the patio. After a prolonged "so what's good?" routine i went inside to get their drinks, a Bloody Mary for him and a delightful drink we offer called a Berri White for her. I dropped them off and noticed that his pants were unzipped. Once i went back in they proceeded to make out. 'Nuff said.
1st runner up: mom, dad, 2 young kids (son and daughter), grandma and grandpa. All was going well until it was daughter's turn to order. She asked for chicken and dumplings, with a baked potato and macaroni as her sides. Mom: "No, that's too many starches...you can't have the macaroni, pick something else." Kid: "French fries?" Mom: "No!! That's a starch!" Kid: "Corn?" Mom: "No more starches!!" Kid: "But i want macaroni..." Mom: "I said no! That's too many starches--how 'bout some spinach." Kid puts head down on table and starts to cry. Mom: "If you're gonna act like that you're not getting anything." Meanwhile the son was allowed to order a grilled cheese sandwich with macaroni, no issues. Helloooo future eating disorder!
the grand prize winner: this award can only go to you, table 32. Yes you, lady drinking Miller Lite out of a wine glass and your bleary eyed husband (?) who kept knocking everything on the table over...they kept staring around all crazy throughout the meal and at first it made me think i'd messed something up, but once i realized they weren't really seeing me i didn't concern myself anymore. Toward the end of their visit i noticed a big glob of what appeared to be tartar sauce on the guy's chest. But--but--he was eating pot roast, and she had grilled chicken--there WAS no tartar sauce on the table. There was nothing on the table that could be mistaken for tartar sauce, such as salad dressing, butter, gravy, etc. I started pointing him out to the other servers and we all stared at him from across the dining room. He had a black shirt on so the big chunky looking glob of ?? couldn't be missed. Someone optimistically suggested it might be soap. But he'd never left the table and it wasn't there when he sat down...i'm probably better off not knowing.
Last night, recounted by poem
1 day ago