The power of love...and candy
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
It's only Tuesday and I'm completely wiped out. Of course, it could be all the Valentine's Day chocolate I've been taste-testing to ensure that high quality standards have been maintained by the manufacturers since Christmas.
And I couldn't resist treating my three-days-a-week colleagues with a bucket of non-tart sweetheart candies with outdated sayings like "PAGE ME" and "4 EVER" on them. Hey, they were less expensive than the Spider-man themed Valentines I was thinking of getting. Who can resist a card with spider sense? (I'll pick some up on Thursday and use them next year.)
Waitressing is one of the worst jobs to have on Valentine's Day, because everything has to be perfect for the couple in lurve. If you happen to be waitressing at a Red Lobster on the dodgy side of town, it sinks to a new level of suckdom.
:::cue flashback music:::
When your table is complaining that the lobster in the $12.99 Lobster Alfredo doesn't come in the shell, chances are your $2 tip will vanish. When another table attempts to send back a bottle of wine that only has half a glass left in it, you know it's going to be a long night. Especially when management has put the CD on that has that Manhattan Transfer song with the tuneful words "Operator, information, get me Jesus on the line."
There I was, covered in crab leg shells and chilled butter-warmer wax when the DH (who wasn't even the DF at the time) arrived in his Grandfather's beat-up Ford with a bucket of KFC (legs only) and a turtle pie from Baskin-Robins. It's a combination of foods that would have killed me were it not for heart-attack preventative powers of the 8-hour shift I had just pulled.
That might have been the moment when I realized that love could surround us on so many different levels, as there I was, sharing my love of chicken, pralines 'n cream ice cream and finally seeing the end of a shift with a guy who was pretty darn cool despite his preference for Jethro Tull and all things Python.
But, well over two decades later, we're still here. Without the 5,000-calorie meals, praise Boney M, but with that sense of being in the right place with the right person. Even if she's a slob and he snores six different ways.
Happy VD everyone!
And I couldn't resist treating my three-days-a-week colleagues with a bucket of non-tart sweetheart candies with outdated sayings like "PAGE ME" and "4 EVER" on them. Hey, they were less expensive than the Spider-man themed Valentines I was thinking of getting. Who can resist a card with spider sense? (I'll pick some up on Thursday and use them next year.)
Waitressing is one of the worst jobs to have on Valentine's Day, because everything has to be perfect for the couple in lurve. If you happen to be waitressing at a Red Lobster on the dodgy side of town, it sinks to a new level of suckdom.
:::cue flashback music:::
When your table is complaining that the lobster in the $12.99 Lobster Alfredo doesn't come in the shell, chances are your $2 tip will vanish. When another table attempts to send back a bottle of wine that only has half a glass left in it, you know it's going to be a long night. Especially when management has put the CD on that has that Manhattan Transfer song with the tuneful words "Operator, information, get me Jesus on the line."
There I was, covered in crab leg shells and chilled butter-warmer wax when the DH (who wasn't even the DF at the time) arrived in his Grandfather's beat-up Ford with a bucket of KFC (legs only) and a turtle pie from Baskin-Robins. It's a combination of foods that would have killed me were it not for heart-attack preventative powers of the 8-hour shift I had just pulled.
That might have been the moment when I realized that love could surround us on so many different levels, as there I was, sharing my love of chicken, pralines 'n cream ice cream and finally seeing the end of a shift with a guy who was pretty darn cool despite his preference for Jethro Tull and all things Python.
But, well over two decades later, we're still here. Without the 5,000-calorie meals, praise Boney M, but with that sense of being in the right place with the right person. Even if she's a slob and he snores six different ways.
Happy VD everyone!
posted by Bonnie Staring at 10:38 PM
2 Comments:
What a lovely story! What a sweetie you have there!
Thanks Sara! Yeah, I think I'll keep him. ;)
Post a Comment
<< Home