Kayaking brings back memories

This morning I went kayaking with the Lees, and on our way to the headsprings, Mrs. Lee asked, “what’s that ahead of you?” I saw a covered dock with a sign and some boats inside, so I answered that it was a dock, and she said no, that thing right in front of my kayak — then Jessica congratulated me on pulverizing some poor innocent water creature. I guess I was fixated on everything except for what was right in front of me (which is not too unlike me). So, turtle or bird or whatever you are, or were, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to end your life.

On the aforementioned dock, I also saw an old couple that I used to wait on at the country club. He’s German, tall as a skyscraper and has an accent so thick that even though I served him once a week, I still had trouble deciphering what he said. I remember asking what his member number was. We would go back and forth:

Me: “And your member number?”
Him: “Aaayte-sihh-fwee.”
Me: “Eight sixteen?”
Him: “AAAYTE-SIHH-FWEE.”
Me: “Eighty three?”
Him: “AAAYTE-SIHH-FWEE!”
Me: “Eight six three?”

Then he would nod.

Eight six three, the magic number. I eventually got around to memorizing it to save myself the hassle. He and his wife were regulars in a table of eight that came to dine and dance, and they were picky, demanding, cheap tippers. One of the guys in the group thought he (not Eight Six Three man, but this guy himself) was really scary. He would always tell me to tell the chef NOT to put garlic on his mussels marinara, because if the chef did, he would go back in the kitchen and throw the mussels at the chef. He said this every time he ordered the dish. It got old.

Another guy in the group always asked if I had a date afterward, because I was supposedly serving really fast. (I had to hold my tongue because I really wanted to tell him that the whole reason I served him “fast” was so he wouldn’t complain about how long his food was taking or how long it was taking for him to get butter or another roll.) This greasy-haired man routinely ordered his salad with Romaine lettuce only and without dressing, so I would have to custom-make his salad every time, and…well, that sort of thing just gets annoying when the customer fails to realize you have made the salads just before the shift and have to take time out of serving other people to make their salad, thus angering the other customers, and then said custom-salad-orderer leaves you a 10% tip.

How did this just turn into a post about serving? Oh well.