Regulars. I love each of them dearly. I really do. But some regulars insist upon maintaining the most impossible standards and I know you keep coming back because I continue to acquiesce to your asinine requests, and I really should stop, because I’m creating a monster. A monster of unreasonable expectations.
On the daily, this monster requests a bowl of watermelon. And it’s nothing personal, I completely understand the appeal of watermelon, but there’s never enough in the fridge. And it’s busy as all hell in here but I go back into the walk-in and scale the rickety shelving units, one foot beside a cooling pan of rice pudding and the other propped on the jar of pickles and I pluck out the pieces of watermelon from the fruit, one by one, until the bowl is filled. And I bring it back and act like it’s no big deal and I try to conceal the limp I’m sporting because pickle brine is slippery and so of course I ate shit trying to climb my way back down. If you’re wondering where the staff is they’re in the back, watching the security footage of my ass plummeting to the floor. Over and over again. Not that I blame them.
But sometimes there just isn’t watermelon. I know it’s a first world problem and it’s the biggest crisis you’ve faced all day and this may quite literally be the first horseman of the apocalypse making his appearance, but we don’t have any watermelon sliced. Now, I can have someone cut you some but I’ve been calling for salad for 45 minutes and no one has brought any and trust me, that shit’s been prepped for the last six hours, so that should bring you up to speed on the condition of the back kitchen staff. In other words, unless you have no plans for the rest of your afternoon, just have some damned pineapple.
And don’t give me that face. That, everyone has forsaken me and this is what my life has become, face. It’s a little melodramatic. Don’t pick petulantly at the pineapple and cast sideways glances in my direction I know you’re already plotting your one star Yelp review but can you just hold off on shooting me the evil eye for a few more minutes? Like, until you leave. I left my ward off evil spirits charm at home and I have enough demons to deal with as it is this hangover is wrecking havoc on my body it is threatening to make its presence known every time I catch a whiff of the tuna melt on table 101. The only mass extinction happening today is seconds away from exploding up out of the back of my throat. Clean up on isle two.
You’ve armed yourself against the zombie apocalypse but are you prepared for the torrential downpour of undigested pancakes that is about to assuage you? I think not. Don’t cash that check unless you have some major overdraft protection.
We didn’t run out of pineapple we didn’t run out of grapes or cantaloupe or honeydew or blueberries or strawberries or any other produce product. We ran out of watermelon. Because when 86 people order bowls of watermelon the demand overwhelms the supply and the inevitable result is that the supply will be extinguished. Economics 101. I guess I know the answer to that whole overdraft thing. In the future, maybe all of you could order the “Seasonal Mixed Bowl of Fruit” as it comes…mixed. But that would be too reasonable. And as we all know by now, reasonable just isn’t in your nature.