Restaurant tidbits (5 of 5): Some customers...

...from various shifts:

1) Two (late middle-aged) (fatter) (white) ladies who are having dinner and who I confusedly also bring take-out to, since I don't have the table numbers down and since it also turns out in retrospect that the other servers shoved some tables together farther down the dining room and so that made the table numberings seem off.

"Yes, that's ours," the one was like, "I'm taking some food home for my mother."

"Cool!", I was like, "But you were the one that said that, not me take-out is take-out, I wasn't prying where it was going!"

Then, I was like, "I don't want the boss to get the wrong idea."

(They seemed to love that.)

2) A(n older) (goateed) (blue collar) (white) guy with loopy eyes coming in for lunch like right at 11am when we open, asking for a fly swatter so he can hit flies while he eats, since he says they're a problem everywhere right now and he doesn't blame us for them, but they're bothering him, and that would help.

So, I duck into the kitchen and find the owner's (permanently tired) (Thai) wife, and she gets out from back behind the prep cooks this super duper-looking fly swatter that's like a tennis racket with a couple overlaid metal meshes, and a button on the side with a red light next to it that flashes when you press it, and what looks like room in the handle for a big heavy-duty battery or two.

And, it turns out to be like a mini bug zapper, that fries the bugs when you swat it into them and press the button.

So, I give it to him, and for like the next thirty-five minutes every once in a while there's like this loud dark electricity-sparking sound ZAWP that comes rolling across the empty dining room, and the guy like calls out to us and is like, "Got one!".

3) A(n older) (single) (white) lady with a photocopied crossword, and after I break down the chicken dishes for her, I ask her if she's a puzzler, and then talk crosswords with her.

4) This group of (four) (older) (white) ladies who all order drinks and apps and main dishes and get a lot wrapped up to go, and then as they go to leave, they ask me if that bakery up the street with the good dessert breads is still there.

"Yeah," I was like, "But unfortunately they're not open on [the day that it was then]."

"Just as well," muttered the one (oldest) lady, a skinnier one with the most wrinkles and these blonde up-curls, and who's wearing a tasteful sweater.