I have been working Sunday brunches for the past few weeks to help out at work. While I don't mind helping out, I just freakin' hate brunch! It's too early to be interacting with people, though I put on my best Oscar winning performance. Brunch diners are idiots. It's like amateur day for diners. I arrive at 11 a.m. at opening. The waiters had been there earlier to set up and said that there was a line of people outside waiting to get in. Are you kidding me? I mean, I've waited outside for Disney World to open when I was a kid. And, at Hustler Club as an adult. (Hey, they have a great noon buffet!) But, for a restaurant?! Man, people really need to get a life.
One of the waiters returns an orange juice saying, "The lady asked if it was fresh squeezed by the bartender. And since it wasn't, didn't want it for $3.50." Wow.
A regular comes in every week and says how the food isn't as good at brunch as it is at dinner. Yet, still comes EVERY week.
Another diner comes straight to the bar with his orange juice and says, "I was expecting more than this." (We serve our OJ in wine glasses. A full serving, but because it's in a wine glass, it only fills the glass up half way.)
Many more examples, but they'd just bore you. Anyway, shouldn't all of these godless heathens be in church anyway!
There's a song in "Tick, Tick... BOOM!" about the trials of waitering Sunday brunch. I can send it to you if you haven't heard it.
Posted by: Priscilla | October 30, 2006 at 08:05 PM