Waiter Banter
Totteridge is a leafy suburb in North London, for those playing at home its on the Northern Line one stop before High Barnet which is the end of the line (well 1 end of the Northern line). I didn’t think many Australians would be out this way but I know I shouldn’t be surprised because you occasionally bump into one anywhere you go whether it may be in Timbuktu, Brasov or in this case Totteridge.
Well I just didn’t bump into one, it happened to be my waiter. I guess we kind of made a mistake by getting a bit too friendly with this dude and by the end of the night we knew what he does, where exactly he is from, why he is here, his ambitions and his future plans for the next 12 months. If we stayed any longer, we could have got his bank account details, what size shoes he wears, whether he wipes his ass with his left hand or right. Mate, we just want our food and drinks, not your life story.
Engineer by profession, talking bullshit, serving food and drinks by day at the local gastro pub in Totteridge. Lives in the most boringest city in Australia, I think you already know what that place is so I don’t even need to mention it. Actually, I’ll give you a clue, it starts with Canberra.
I don’t know about you but at the point where you call your waiter by their first name instead of getting their attention by other means it becomes socially awkward. I mean if you were a waiter, would you like it if someone called you out loud by your first name? “Wilson, fetch me some scallops and bacon will ya, and hurry up? Make the bacon extra crispy, I don’t want that soft shit, cheers mate” or “John mate, wtf is this dish? its rubbish! it’s missing the bacon, read the menu properly mate!”
I think a menu should have the following items of things you can order at a restaurant apart from the usual:
Entree – Introduction to your waiter £2.99
Main – Life story so far £9.99
Dessert – Future plans with a topping of what my next job will be £4.99
Customers may order any of the above but only limit to 1 per table, do you really want to hear the same story repeated to everyone? Yes, I didn’t thinkso. If the waiter is lucky and our ears don’t bleed by the end of the night then we might just cast a vote for him to win a bottle of Moet. Forget tips, the waiter insisted on the votes.