so last night was interesting at work. i am trained as a baker, i can do it all... toss the pizza dough high in the sky, spread sauce across the crust, sprinkle zee cheeze a la zee pizza, etc, AND i am trained on ovens (da ovs). we like to shorten words at my work... ovens = ovs, delivery = deliv, sandwich = sammie, pizza = piz (pronounced peets)... and i have a few special nicknames for things like garlic knots = naughty knots, dough ball = dough bally ball...
anyway, so, i'm trained as a baker but last night i was scheduled for COUNTER, meaning i am the customer service queen and i take orders all night from the customers (including their money), wipe down tables, refill red pepper shakers, and pour drinks or open beer bottles. that's about it.
early in the evening an elderly diabetic man, who struck up conversation with me about diabetes because i was wearing last year's JDRF (http://walk.jdrf.org/) tshirt. SO GET THIS, this man told me that he was diagnosed with TYPE 1 at the age of 40. this man has an identical twin brother, who was living on the opposite coast, and his identical twin brother was diangosed with type 1 at the SAME TIME he was!!!!!! that's just crazy.
then, there was the spunky outgoing and overly friendly woman with a new yorker accent, big dangly earring and long pink and green finger nails who just spent 15 years in south florida but has a hollywood area code. "you got a beautiful smile," she said lookin' straight at me after ordering her salad, chicken parm, and water in a bottle, please, sweetie. "whaddya do for fun honey?" she said to me. "uhm, i like outdoor stuff..." "...oh and there's plenty of that to do here! huh?" "...yeah." 45 minutes later after she finished her meal, she re-approached me at the register and leaned forward over the counter with a napkin in her hand. "my name is millie," she said, "and, i'm new in town. here's my number, we should hang out. hang out with me."
the night ended strangely, with a whiny dude trying to get me to give him free jalapenos and peppercinis on his cheese slices. i said, "those are toppings. it costs extra." "...what? seriously? two slices with two toppings for $7? what? seriously? that's a lot of money!" if he weren't so rude and annoying maybe i could try to sympathize with him a little. i like to "hook-up" customers where i can, with coupons they don't have, drinks they didnt pay for, etc. but he was getting on my nerves and trying to take advantage. "yes, a single cheese slice is 2.25. each topping is .60 per slice. do the math." oooh i wanted to kick him out. especially after he came back a SECOND time, ordered a THIRD slice with jalapenos, and when he got his slice he complained (lied) to the baker on ovens that he had ordered TWO slices, not ONE, and she looked over at me wondering if this was correct, and i said NO, HE ORDERED ONE. he said, "i wanted two." "...then come over here and pay for another." he left. and supposedly the girl on ovens said he tried taking another order that didnt belong to him.