Thursday, April 20, 2006

at the risk of stealing The Waiter's bit, got another work story for you. Now, since I am good at my job, I almost always make it a point to check the last name on the credit crad, and if at all possible, thank the person by name. That will be germaine to this story in a few moments. So, it was any old Tuesday night. I was walking around, doing my thing. When I swung by the bar to run glasses to the dish room, I hear the bartender say into the phone "she's at a table right now, please hold." There are only three girls that work there, so I figure it's bound to be one the other two girls, since I was not, in fact, at a table, but rather, at the bar. Bartender looks at me and says "H--you've got a stalker on line two."Figuring he's kidding, and it's some one from the restaurant next door, I answered the phone.

"Thanks for holding, this is Heather, how may I help you?"

"Heather, it's Bob Knutsen*, I was at your table recently."

"Yes, quite recently sir. How may I help you this evening?"

"Well, I was on a blind date, and I was far more interested in my waitress than my date."

"..."

"Heather?"

"Yes sir, I'm still here"

"I mean, you took the time to learn my name"

"Well, sir, thank you. I'm flattered. Feel free to come in some night and talk to me**."

* - not his real name. I just wanted to type "Knutsen"

** - I would not actually remember this gentleman, and I don't date customers. Did that one time, and in the end, it did NOT work out. No co-workers, and no customers. I really just don't date. I flirt, which is better.