Monday, December 1, 2008

The Reason I started this...

I was having a crap day.

Job I wanted suddenly disappeared, got a ticket for speeding and got out of my car and stepped into a liquid that had pooled in the street. Considering the sheen and unnatural odor, I assumed I would be dying or shrinking to microscopic size soon. At least I would have a last meal.

I walked into Fred 62 on Vermont, on the border of ratty Hollywood and hipster Los Feliz.

It was packed with a lot of people that would benefit from me punching them in the face. I was about to turn and look for another choice when she walked deep into my personal space and smiled. "Hey grumpy, if you are alone I can seat you at the counter right now. But you better not stiff me on the bill or I will have to sell my body for rent."

She didn't even wait for an answer but started heading towards the open space at the bar I didn't even notice. All the waitresses at F62 have a uniform of a t-shirt with some ironic statement on the back, short black skirts and dark stockings. I assume that this is because one tends to watch the backs of waitresses a lot or they just want a lot of guys to eat there. She spun on me, catching my eyes pointing much lower than I feel comfortable admitting.

"You want the chicken soup."

She started to write on her pad while she poured me a lovely cup of coffee. "Er, it's breakfast time," I replied sounding exactly like the slave to traditions I am.

"Sweetie, you look seven kinds of pissed. The soup comes in a small bowl. It won't ruin whatever comfort food you will order...probably pancakes and...bacon? Yeah you are a bacon guy. My kinda guy! Why don't you just trust me, read your book and eat this soup, so we can both have a good day. OK?"

Then she flashes me this smile. New Year's Eve bright and full of just as much promise. With that she spins and disappears only to return to fill my cup and then give me a bowl of soup that really did make my day better. Still, I am stubborn so I ordered the 2x4 even though I wanted pancakes. I left a 25% tip and the book I finished reading while I ate. She looked at her tip and said this one last thing

"I never understand why there are always reviews about how bad or good a restaurant is but no one ever talks about how good or bad their waitress is. That one person can ruin your whole day, so why not tell people about the ones that don't? Anyway my mom thanks you for keeping me from being a hooker."

I have never seen her again and I never found out her name, So I figure i would do this as thanks. Hope you enjoy.

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