Check It Out…

Ah, the restaurant check book, tool of the trade. It seems that I always carry one in my purse. I’m a waitress and that’s just how I roll. In fact, with my job, I have to be ready to come into work at a moments notice to cover a shift… any day, any time.

This leaves me with the responsibility of being prepared like a boy scout. I have frequently considered sleeping in my work clothes and installing a fireman’s pole just to be as quick and efficient as possible when I get the unexpected call to work, usually on my day off.

Over the years I have grown accustom to the spontaneity and dedication that it takes to pull this off. I have also told John that he may as well be in a relationship with a paramedic seeing that the over all disruption of plans and outcome is the same.

Tonight after working a double and getting out late, I met John at a sushi place that we haven’t been to in over a year.

The atmosphere is amazing and the food is great! I have to admit that I’ve missed dining there, but what can I say, the last time that we went was nothing short of a disaster.

It must be almostĀ a year since we dined at Dao Fusion and our last visit was memorable, to say the least. The restaurant was inviting. We enjoyed some alone time in an intimate booth and ordered a bottle of wine.

Photo of Dao Fusion Cuisine & Lounge - Stratford, CT, United States. Tatami room

The food was delicious.

Photo of Dao Fusion Cuisine & Lounge - Stratford, CT, United States. Never disappoints! Love this sushi!

The service impeccable.

You may be wondering why we never went back after our fine dining experience one year ago.

Well, the answer could very well have landed both of us in jail…

After the waitress brought our bill and we were getting ready to leave, I began placing all of my belongings in my purse… my cell phone, car keys and sunglasses.

We walked to John’s car and got in. As John started the engine, I was startled by a noise… the waitress that served us was frantically banging on the window of the passenger seat where I sat.

I pressed the button on the door and slowly lowered the window, looking perplexed.

“You took the check book!” She yelled.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“You didn’t pay the bill!” She said, “You took the check book!”

Before I could reply John leaned over and said, “She’s a waitress.”

As if that explained it all.

“Look, I am a waitress and I have no idea what you’re talking about. I paid the bill and tipped generously.” I replied.

“I need my check book.” The waitress demanded.

Laughing I replied, “I don’t have your check book.”

As I opened my purse.

There in my purse sat two check books.

One from my work and one from the lunch that we had just enjoyed.

Slowly and sheepishly, I slid the cash filled check book through the open gap in the car window.

The waitress grabbed it and stamped off.

“Well, we’re NEVER going back there again.” I said to John.

We both laughed as my cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

But guess what?

We did, a year later… tonight, in fact.

I double and triple checked my purse as we paid the bill and just for the record, no one followed us out to our car.

Today maybe it’s just the small victories…

Or just my life…

I swear…

 

 

 

 

You Can’t Blog While Driving Around With An 80 Pound Pig

I’ve been eager to get back to my blog after working long hours all weekend. I’m a waitress, which doesn’t seem very exciting… unless you work where I work.

After a long Friday night shift, I was back at work at 6 a.m. the following day. By 7:20 a.m I was pulling a large truck around to the backside of a farm to pick up an 80 pound pig that my boss had ordered for a pig roast that we were catering.

I stepped out of the vehicle and was greeted by one of the workers.

I told him the name of the restaurant and repeated the details that I had committed to memory.

“I’m here to pick up an 80 pound pig, gutted, split and de hoofed.”

My stomach turned at the thought.

“You need a fig?” The worker replied.

What? I thought, confused.

“A pig.” I stated.

He nodded, turned and walked into the shadows of the barn.

I chuckled to myself, you would think that this guy would learn to pronounce the word pig, seeing that he worked at a pig farm.

He returned with a large sheet of brown paper and laid it across the length of the interior of the truck.

That was my cue, I quickly got back into the vehicle and sat in the driver’s seat. I couldn’t bear to see this dead pig.

When I heard the back doors of the truck slam closed, I started the engine and drove away.

I glanced in my rear view mirror… thankfully I couldn’t see a thing.

Although it was the early morning, the temperature was already rising as I rolled down the truck’s windows to let in some fresh air.

I thought about how I’d rather be writing than driving around on a hot day with a gutted pig on his way to meet his barbecued fate.

I knew that this busy weekend was going to leave me neglecting my blog.

Oh well, I thought, I can’t blog while I’m driving around with an 80 pound pig…

But I can certainly write about it later.