Well I don’t know about you but things have become pretty dicey. I was at Blondie’s to watch a few sport outings and catch up on the personal lives of those patrons occupying ‘Curmudgeon Corner.’ I witnessed an example of impatience by one such patron that fell into the category of ‘I meant well.’
Trying to be frugal this weekend I nursed a couple of VT’s while watching a little football and generally keep a low profile. This became increasingly difficult as one of my associates was hell bent on making an ass out of themselves by harassing the new bartender. The ex-con seems like he does a good job but was never fast enough for my good friend as he constantly harangued this well intentioned young man for his sluggardly pace. To be fair though, putting this in its proper context, nobody, I mean nobody drinks beer at the pace my friend does. How in the hell could a new bartender even fathom the liver flooding rate of consumption displayed by my good friend?
This level of impatience and bullyrag seems to be endemic to places serving alcohol, particularly when it’s jet-washed nasally and shot through the bladder directly into the urinal. In the case of a number of my associates they don’t even bother making the traditional march to the urinal since they’ve discovered ‘Depends’. My point is, (I’m getting there) it shouldn’t be an excuse to become abusive with new bartenders or anyone else for that matter! I’m using outrageous levels of beer absorption as an example, but it can be anything! Wait people, grocery store checkout people, the group one hole ahead, the car actually doing the speed limit in front of you, the much maligned postal worker, and the myriad of daily chances to be patient that either go civilly or turn into ugly incidents.
I experienced my own little drama last Sunday as I was enjoying the day off. I found a nice little place for breakfast called the New York Deli. It tries to come off as a diner you’d find in Queens but it’s much too clean. I like the place because it’s reasonably priced for a couple of eggs and toast serving excellent coffee. I like to read the Sunday paper while sipping good coffee and had settled in to browse and catch up on world events.
There were a few other people there, but it didn’t seem like my waitress was overwhelmed by the three or four tables being occupied. The service was fine until I got to the Op Ed section and needed a refill. I looked around to see I was the only customer left but my waitress was nowhere to be found. I finished George Will’s column and still had no coffee. I’d been patient but my routine had been disrupted and became irritated.
Picking up my mug I got up and opened the swinging door behind the deli counter only to see my waitress on the phone. I guessed she was talking to a sister or girlfriend given the giggling and held up my mug pointing to it clearly indicating my need for a re-fill. Rolling her eyes she lowered her phone and said, “I’ll be there in a minute”. I said “it’s been 20 minutes dear-y.” Doing away with all pleasantries and in a snotty tone she hissed “I’m on the phone Sirrrr.”
Without my coffee, I finished the paper and paid my check leaving the cash on the table without my usual 25% gratuity. She finally emerged after finishing her important conversation just in time to see me flip a quarter on the table. “UUUUUUUU…..25 CENTS!…… THANK YOUUU….Mr, What shall I ever do with sooooo much money!” As I walked toward the door I turned around to face her and flipped the bone once again proving how patience will always take a back seat to impatience.