"Can you tell our server that we're ready to order?" The lady in white barked.
"Of course. I am your server." said the frustrated comic/writer/ server for the lady in white's table.
This is all too common. Do all server's look the same? If they do then that's racist! Is it really that hard to remember the face and body composition of the person who's been standing over you since you sat down at your table, and repeated the specials back to you three times, because on the second time your friend couldn't resist the "I'll have the Halibut, for the 'Hell-of-it.' (HELLO!!! RIM SHOT! BAM!!!)
It was always fun too when the customers didn't believe that I was their server. "No. It was a bald man with an east coast accent and attitude." I just tell them, "Oh, he went on break. But I can take your order and give you attitude."
Even better... "Have you seen our server?" Actually one of my all time faves. This one I will give the customers a little leeway, considering the I was probably texting in the back somewhere waiting for the last possible second to approach the table. Don't judge. If you hadn't ignored me the past three times I approached the table, I wouldn't of felt like I had time to text my buddy about how the restaurant was sucking my soul from my head. "Yes I saw your server. He's out playing on the freeway. He'll be back soon if he doesn't get hit by a truck."
Like Darth Vader said to his tables, "MA'AM... I AM YOUR SERVER! And tonight's soup is Lobster Bisque."
Until next time... Server's don't pay their rent with compliments.
"Bitter, party of one? Your table is ready."
The Bitter Bistro