Monday, January 21, 2013

A Southern Gentleman's Response to Sweet Tea

Howdy do from my bedroom,

This morning I woke up and was pleasantly surprised to see my 8th grade history teacher had messaged me on Facebook. I would like to share what she wrote me.

"Just spent the last half hour reading your blog posts. I enjoyed them! I think you have found your thing! My favorite was the one about the rude family you waited on. Might I suggest a second installment? I'm dying to find out what happens."

I edited out something because I am not sure if you are still a teacher (which I hope you are because I learned a lot from you) but I want you to know that I really took this message to heart. Thank you Mrs. Hodges! So, per your request, I have decided to write a bit more about my Cracker Barrel life. It is quite entertaining, so here we go.

I would like to start with this, after I read this message this morning, I really started craving Cracker Barrel so I decided to go get some breakfast. Breakfast is perfectly reasonable at 3 in the afternoon, or anytime of the day for that matter. Breakfast food is the best food. Period.

Admittedly, I had an ulterior motive. I kind of wanted my job back, and while there, I planned to talk to my former boss about this. when I arrived, I walked up to the hostess stand behind this family of four what looked to be like brothers and sisters or maybe two husbands and their wives. There was only one hostess, and she was currently seating someone so I was going to have to wait for a few minutes. Fine with me, I was in no hurry. A moment later, I see this woman approaching out of the corner of my eye. She was middle aged with a cropped hairstyle and had a shiny brown jacket on. She moved ahead of myself and the couples in front of me. For a second, I gave her the benefit of a doubt. Maybe her guest was already seated in the restaurant and she was peeking in to see if she could see him. Perhaps she just wanted to know if there was a wait before she waited in line. But this is Cracker Barrel, so what I really knew was going on was actually really going on. This crazy old lady was skipping!

The sweet little hostess returned and of course the old bat is the first one she sees since she found fit to place herself in the front of the line. She asked how many and the lady said she had two and proceeded to follow the hostess into the dining room. ARE YOU SERIOUS!? HOW FREAKING RUDE CAN YOU GET! What is even worse is that when she walked up to the front of the line, she looked at each and everyone of us, myself and the four people in front of me, and acknowledged our presence and position in line! We all just stood there stunned and made jokes about it because at that point, what could we do other than laugh at the audacity this lady had. Needless to say, it was a clear sign from God that I didn't need that kind of stress back in my life again. I will not be going back to work there. Ever.

Let me take you back to the rude family from a previous post. If you haven't read it, this family was so bad they made several servers leave the building in tears. In fact, our store was trying to make it possible for them to not be able to eat there anymore. They always had something to say to our manager too, and nothing that made us look good. They were doing what I call fishing. Fishing- complaining enough until you get a free meal. This family did this frequently. What's even worse, they almost always got their way.

I had other encounters with the family that were almost always the same. Whether the BBQ was on the plate or not, they always had something to complain about. One day, they came in to eat dinner and I saw the hostess leading them to my section. I had had enough. My boss was standing by the computer where the servers put in orders and I walked up to him and said, "I am sorry sir but I am not waiting on them. I can't. I will physically lose my mind." He looked at me, then out at the dining room at them sitting down in my section, shook his head and sent someone else out there to take care of them. I feel bad for subjecting others to that kind of treatment, but there was no way I was going to be able to handle them. I really didn't want to get fired for having a meltdown in the dining room, so I figured this was a better alternative.

In an almost anticlimactic ending, I did not see them after that day. I have no idea if they were actually banned from the restaurant or not. For the sake of the servers still working up there, I hope they did. Dear sweet little girl, I hope when you get older you tell your parents that they need to calm down or you aren't letting them go out in public anymore.

At this point I would like to tell a story where I went wrong at my job. When I say wrong, I mean deathstar level awful. One day I had this table of older white haired gentlemen. They were sweet, charming, and southern. Most of them had on Columbia fishing shirts and Sperry type shoes. The attention to detail I have is ridiculous sometimes. I wish I could apply this kind of memory usage to school, but for some reason memorizing equations and remembering what someone ordered last Sunday are not the same.

Just like most southern gents, these men loved their sweet tea. They were sucking them down left and right. It's like they were storing it all somewhere in their bodies like camels do with their humps. One of the men asked me for a refill, so I dutifully retrieved the sweet tea pitcher from the kitchen. When I brought it back out I took the man's glass and filled it up. I was standing behind him and not beside him. Wrong move. As I went to hand him his glass back, I lost my balance with the tray and sent the whole pitcher of tea flying. My unintended target for the sweet tea was this man's entire backside. He was completely soaked in the sticky, sugary beverage. His shoulders tensed up, I imagine from the cold ice rolling down his spine. He turned, looked at me, and I waited for the blow. I thought for certain he was going to start screaming, cussing and pitching a fit. I probably would have.

To my surprise, he laughed. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn't imagining this. He was laughing! Like a deep-hearted throaty, slightly mischievous laugh! He looked at me, and said, "Now darlin', I thought we agreed you were going to aim for this fella," as he slapped his friend on the back. They all broke into a fit of roaring laughter. I was in total shock. He wasn't going to yell or ask for me to be hung from the rafters after all!

This is a fine example of a good man. He had every reason to be angry with me, but instead he just let it go and laughed. It is a perfect example of "don't let life get you down." I wish I could remember his name. I feel I should add, they tipped me ten bucks and stacked their plates so I could grab them easily. It just goes to show you, the population is not made up solely of assholes. There are still some gems out there.

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