Ten Percent Perspective

There I was last night, working on the back end of an 11½ hour day, and I got sat with my least favorite amalgamation of guests. You guessed right, it was a table with four women.

If you did not guess right, the answer may have surprised you. Also, if you did not guess right, the odds are you have never waited tables. Women in a restaurant will (seemingly without exception) run you ragged with their constant critiques of the menu, drinks, atmosphere, and perhaps even your appearance.

To illustrate my point, I will include a conversation I had with another table full of women earlier in the day.

Me: Good afternoon, Ms. Smith

Ms. Smith: How did you know my name?

Me (bypassing the obvious reason that included the fact that she just told the hostess her name in favor of my over-used pun): Well ma’am, I have ESPN.

Ms. Smith (accompanied with a look of absolute distain): Well, ESPN is a sports channel so I think you are referring to ESP.

Me: Thank you so much, Ma’am. I appreciate your help.

As I said, it is a unique pleasure to wait on a table full of women but as the old saying goes, “somebody’s got to do it”. Last night it fell to me.

As I took their orders, I thought this table may have a bit of potential for breaking the mold. I thought this because I am an idiot and momentarily forgot the wise words of Ulysses Everett McGill: “Never trust a woman, Delmar. You remember that one simple precept and your time with me will not have been ill-spent.”

I was in such an accommodating frame of mind that I allowed the hostess of this party to order asparagus au gratin, which indeed, is not on the menu. I also ordered her a humble salad for her entrée with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.

Well, when the meal came, I noticed that something was definitely wrong. Do you remember the au gratin on the asparagus I had just mentioned? Well my kitchen did not. Do you remember the salad I ordered for her? Once again, the kitchen did not remember my order.

I was angry. How could my co-workers ignore my specific requests? It seemed they were rising against me because of my slightly odd order. This aggression against my order could not stand. I went back to the kitchen and stated my case plainly and passionately. I figured I had put up with this nonsense for far too long. It was my time to assert my rights.

Well, I got what I wanted. After a shouting match with my salad man and an invitation to step outside from my head cook, I had my lady’s order in hand, I had come through and done my job and I could rest assured that, even though I had to ruffle some feathers, I was in a fine position for a generous tip.

Then something happened. The ladies had finished their meal and they sat. And they sat. And they sat. In fact, they sat at their table for nearly two hours after their dinner was complete, chewing up my time as my day neared the twelve-hour mark.

To be clear, lingering is fine, even past the point when everybody else has left. As long as the restaurant is still open for business there is no reason to feel rushed out of the place. I do think there is a caveat to this general rule. You must tip 18-20% if you plan to chew up time past 10 at night.

As you may have guessed, my ladies were not aware of my suggested caveat. When they finally left, I was staring down at a ten percent tip.

For once, I was glad to get a crummy tip. It gave me a minute to reflect on what I had put others through to get paid. I had shouted at my friends to get their food correctly delivered. Why? So what if it takes an extra minute to fix an order. I am the only one that would look bad in that situation. The lady would have lived. She actually would have received her food at the same time whether I shouted at or spoke to my co-workers.

I was glad because I had a chance to apologize to my friends. There was no reason to shout. There was no reason to be angry. Did Jesus not say his Father was the one who feeds the sparrows and clothes the flowers? And there I was, worrying, and looking out for myself.

Well, I am glad Jesus did not do that. He considered equality with God not a thing to be hoarded but made himself nothing. He made himself a man. He entered history. He entered need. He entered pain. And he was obedient even to dying on a cross for the very ones who were against him.

Maybe I should stop worrying. Because of Jesus’ humility, my Father will take care of me.