Mention Special Requests Before I Seat You

[akilika]

Okay, so I've got these customers, a group of six. A few of them were in a group I interacted with a little last week; for background, they'd heard me singing to the radio, asked me to sing for them, then their waiter told me to go to the host stand and later told me they'd just been making fun of me. Which, all in all, not too surprising.

So, anyway, this time. They've got a group of six, plus an infant. We've got a couple of tables for five and six, but only one of them is assigned to a waiter; I take them over there.

Lady: Can we sit up there?
Me: I'm afraid not—we don't have any tables that seat six up there. Is this okay?
Lady: I guess. Can I get one of those baby-things?
Me: Sure! Just let me finish here and I'll run and get that for you. My name is Hostess—
Lady: Can I get one of those baby-things?
Me: In just a second. My name is Hostess, your waiter's name will be Waiter X or Waitress Y, and maybe—
Lady: Can I get one of those baby-things?
Me: —maybe you'd like one of our appetizers, like our—
Lady (now asking a passing waiter): Can we get one of those baby-things?
Me: —Appetizer A or our Appetizer B. Thank you, and I'll be right back with the baby-thing!


Which I do. All's well, right?

Except not. Waitress Y comes back to me and asks if I know that Waiter Z is working on the other side of the restaurant. I said yeah, he's working that section over there. She says that these guys asked specifically for Z, and that he can't check on this table since it's all the way on the other side of the restaurant—we've got to move them.

Which—you know, it would have been really nice if they'd mentioned that to me. Yes, Z had been serving the section they'd wanted to sit at the previous time I saw them, but . . . well, he wasn't tonight. They'd never mentioned anything.

So I lead them to a table in an empty section that's on the right side of the restaurant (Z's section only has four-seaters), letting them carry their stuff (such as their precious baby-thing). And I give the spiel.

Lady: Sing for us!
Me: No.
Different Lady: Oh, leave her alone.
Lady: No, I really like her voice! Sing for us!
Me: No.
Lady: I'll tip you.
Me: No.
Lady: Are you nervous?
Me: (Thought: You just want to make fun of me.) I've got a lot of things to do tonight.
Lady: Oh. So maybe next time!

I went back to the front.


It's just . . . ugh. The repetition, the insistence that I sing (not in my job description!), and making me look like an idiot in front of Waitress Y . . . agh! Was roughly ready to kill.

Grr.



And then I close tonight, and open tomorrow. Go me! *grumblegrumblegrumble*

Oh, well. I usually like it. Just . . . not this girl. ^^;

[BookstoreEscapee]

What, does she think the whole world is there for her personal entertainment?

[Antisocial_Worker]

Gir: Daaaaance. Daaaaance!

Sorry, but that was the next logical step, you have to admit. Once they demand that you sing, it's only a matter of time before they want you to dance. And dance you shall, if you want the little robot dog's help in saving the earth or whatever.

[Gurndigarn]

Lady: Sing for us!
Me: No.
Different Lady: Oh, leave her alone.
Lady: No, I really like her voice! Sing for us!

Am I the only one who had flashbacks to Phantom of the Opera there? If you had any operatic singing ability, you could just pick one of those fairly high notes and hold it for a while....

[BookstoreEscapee]

Am I the only one who had flashbacks to Phantom of the Opera there? If you had any operatic singing ability, you could just pick one of those fairly high notes and hold it for a while....

Hehe, that just made me think of the beer commercial where the guy is at the opera with his girlfriend and another couple and he hides 4 beer bottles in the inside pockets of his jacket for him and his buddy, and when the singer hits the high note they all shatter and he gets soaked with beer.

[Sliceanddice]

see this is when you smile and start singing i Kill Kill little girls!