One of those weird moments from my 1st job upon the battleground of the dining room

Ok picture this. Im a college kid working the highly dreaded Sunday morning shift requiring my well deserved hung over ass to arrive at 10 freaking AM. I have it from several sources my appearance looked like warmed over death, reeking of the stench of booze and beer sweat, all while suffering a never ending thirst and a massive sinus headache. Thank God we served Mexican food as the salsa was a life saver from a sinus pain reliving standpoint plus think of all the lycopene fighting the good fight vs the alcohol generated free radicals ravaging my system.

The college burg I live in a consists mere 17,000 souls but it serves as a central hub of shopping and dining for a cluster of 6 or more counties. People are one and two generations of the farm with the college being the major employer plus some light manufacturing. I am happy with a mere $1 tip per head. Hey it was the early 90s times were cheap and I had just gotten that wage raise from $2.08 to $2.13 per hour. WHOO HOO!
We had one regular table on the Sunday AM shift which NO ONE wanted to wait on because NO ONE could please them but Rick the uber server. We all got NOTHING ever from this family while Rick would get a fiver. To this day I suspect Rick could out earn me on the exact same tables no matter his sobriety level nor the amount of sleep deficit he had.

It was a family of five so they tied up 2 of your tables. They all ordered off the menu on a day when 99.9% went to the freaking buffet. The local  church goers were doing their impression of a human locust swarm. It was a major aggravation for two reasons. One you got behind on your drink refills as people gobbing up the buffet also swilled ice tea by the gallon. Second the focus of the kitchen was on getting more buffet pans filled not cooking menu items. So screwed up orders especially those with special instructions were common.

The youngest daughter always ordered a plate that came with a salad but would change the dressing every time you came to the table. I quickly adopted the tactic of pouring the initially requested dressing on the salad and telling her it was on her salad already. Did I mention I never poured the dressing on until just before running it?

But the WEIRDNESS happened one fine, sunny Sunday morn when as I was placing the salsa bowl over the mother’s shoulder and her husband decided to move his chair and he bumped me in the process. Naturally this caused the bowl to canter over slightly, spilling a good 3 ounces of freshly made salsa all down her hair.

Normally this would have been a customer service faux pas of epic proportions as these guys had NO PROBLEMO making complaints about any little thing. They were no tipping nazi’s remember! I just held my breath and went about putting the rest of their tables chips and salsa bowls on the table. maybe because I was new to the business but I pulled a Sgt. Schultz from Hogan’s Heroes. “I see NOTHING! I know NOTHING!”

But the lady stood a mere 5’4″ or so with hair that was frizzily permed and hung down past her trim ass. So the offending salsa went down into the tangle of hair and never did a drop of it drip onto the floor to my shock, surprise, and oh yes my horror. I dreaded thoroughout the meal the incident would be found out.

They never said anything at anytime about it which really did surprise me as that had to have been a pain in the ass to untangle the next time she brushed out her lengthy locks.

Score one for the forces of the nontipped servers everywhere I say!!!

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