Wednesday, June 14, 2006 by Ospite.


Weeknights, our dining room shuts down around 10pm, though we always have the random 9:45 walk-ins. Technically we can't really refuse them service, since we're open, though I always want to make excuses and kick them out. The kitchen goes down to two chefs and most of the secondary staff has left...not to mention we'll close with 3 or 4 waiters.

9:30pm, he walks in. Late 30s, reasonably well dressed, khakis, loafers, and an olive drab button-down. Something seemed a little off though and I couldn't quite place it. He carried in a red rose and a brown paper bag.

With an awkward smile, he told his waitress that we was waiting for his...brother. Who waits for their brother with a crimson rose and an unmarked bag? Nonetheless, I'm not one to judge. Minutes tick by and still no brother. After about 15, he hails his waitress and explains the scenario.

"OK... so I'm actually waiting for my boyfriend. He was supposed to be here before me, but he's running behind. I'm sorry I didn't tell the truth. I'm nervous. I want to propose to him tonight. Can you help me?"

He pulled the contents of the bag out and placed them on the table at his boyfriend's place-setting: several pictures of men without their shirts, and a copy of Playgirl. He then pulled out a gold wedding band and handed it to the waitress.

She was now the nervous one.

"How do I assist a gay proposal? This is way over my head. Any proposal for that matter. But now I'm nervous! He left the 'how' of the proposal up to me!" peering at the wedding band like it was the One Ring.

As they were scheming in the back, I was running through assorted Will & Grace episodes in my head. I landed on the one haunting me. Will was waiting for his date, who was late.

Jack: "Will, have you forgotten how to speak our language? 'Running late' means you're being stood up..."

Sure enough, 10pm came along and our friend was calling frantically on his cell phone to no avail. The boyfriend was not responding. at 10:10 he could not wait any longer, was passed nervous and bordering on furious. Almost shaking, he requested the ring be returned to him, put it in his pocket, and stormed out the door.

The waitress had his drinks comped and wandered back into the kitchen to inform the "pastry chef" that her wondrous plans for a proposal cake were no longer needed.

"I had finally found my purpose in life! I had a big presentation prepared! Why'd he have to go and do that?"

"Wow, I think perhaps his loss is a tad worse than yours."

As I walked to my car, I found him still sitting in his, waiting for his long lost bofriend. Part of me had a touch of sadness for him, the other wonders what kind of "marriage" is based on a copy of Playgirl.

2 Comments:

Blogger espie joans said...

sad.

the playgirl was a gag, I imagine. if you were going to propose to a guy, wouldn't you, too, get a little more of a laugh out of it than if you were proposing to a girl?

9:34 PM  
Blogger Secret said...

I'm diggin your blog, a bit more positive than mine, but then I suppose someone had to fill the asshole void in our little growing clique of Waiter/Bloggers. Keep up the great work. How are you doing on hits?? Just curious

6:00 PM  

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At your service, Ospite

I am not in the restaurant business, I am in the people business. I use every opportunity to people watch, because to me, even the most mundane is fascinating.

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