...at the one (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, where I work now:
1) We're setting up for a wedding rehearsal dinner and I get pulled at the end of the night along with my one (young) (bearded) (vaguely Jewish) (local) coworker and sent there to cut ribbons to tie up around the silverware-bundling napkins, and the (redheaded) (big personality) owner recommends a set length of a foot to try to see how it looks but we have no ruler or measuring tape or anything else like that around, so I'm like, "How do we measure twelve inches?", and as soon as she hears that, she's like, "Hey, you better be careful, or [my coworker's first name] is going to go to HR!".
And, after someone rustles up a ruler and we try that length and it doesn't work and we're trying to figure out what would and the owner suggests eighteen, I suggest fifteen, but the owner's like, "I don't think fifteen inches is enough," so we all start saying, "Oh my, [her first name] doesn't think fifteen inches is enough!", and when we say that, she just mugs a face and is like, "Now **I'm** going to go to HR!", and she just shakes her head and strides out the door to go take care of something else related to set-up for the wedding rehearsal dinner.
2) This table of a (fat) (white) (pretentiously-dressed) (bearded) (bereted) dad and his two (fat) (young) daughters and a (thin) (late 40s) (white) couple who are friends of theirs come in, and they're all talking theater, and the children especially the youngest one are some of the most ill-behaved little children that I've ever seen, like I'm walking through the door to the room where they are eating and the young one who's like eight is running full speed through it and almost knocks me over, and at the table the kids are fiddling with craft stuff and the youngest one interrupts the adult conversation to tell them that she's putting on a puppet show and everything stops so everyone can watch the creative play of this interrupting child, and they have all these little goggly craft eyes for pasting onto things that get scattered everywhere and onto the floor and they ask for to-go boxes to collects scraps and they just leave those on the table when they are leaving along with all of their other trash like the 3 red-striped paper straws that we use for shakes that they saw and wanted some of and so we brought them out to them and they had said that they were going to take them home to use them there but instead they just touched them and left them there for us to throw out, and when I take orders from the adults at one point one of the children interrupts my talking to the point where I have to stop and then begin again to say what I was saying, and at another point I hear the older child making a knowing comment about some person who's a topic of conversation and saying that they'd make a great Miss Hannigan, and then above all that when they leave one of the group gets an individually-wrapped toothpick from the little cup on the front check-out counter, and they just throw the plastic toothpick wrapper on the floor and it's sitting out there on the carpet by the front door as they walk out.
"Those kids are like Charley and the Chocolate Factory level bad," I was like, to my one (laconic) (soft-spoken) (black) (female) coworker.
"Yep," she was like.
3) My one (young) (bearded) (vaguely Jewish) (local) coworker asks if I know of any good local giftshops or shops with hats, since it's his brother's birthday coming up and he would like to maybe get him a new baseball cap, instead of the Star Wars one that he wears all the time.
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