:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

Thoughts, observations, and introspections from an art student waiter/bartender in South Beach. Arcane humor ensues.
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:: Friday, July 25, 2008 ::

:: Server Stories: Early Night ::
"Dan-E, my wife and I got into a fight this morning so I'm closing tonight."

"Good to know Tino, thanks."

Weekdays at work have been slow lately, enough so that some of the floor staff is often cut even before we open. I don't mind working slow nights. I usually get a good section, the customers are more mellow than some of the human garbage that trolls through on weekends, and I still make good money since the slower pace allows me to be more attentive with my tables. But the constant six-day workweeks (and a few seven-days) for the last five months or so since I got hired here are getting to me. So when he volunteered to stay, I looked forward to being cut early.

Tino's a good guy. He's an immigrant from Argentina who started here working as a busboy. But unlike some complacent types, he worked hard to better his English and worked his way up to food runner and eventually a waiter, which is what he's been doing for the last year or so. We've really bonded in the last month or so since our sections are often right next to each other during weekends and we work well together. We enjoy good small talk, bitching about the managers, and we both have ponytails.

His wife is actually very gregarious, with a strong, outgoing, straightforward personality that leaves little room for ambiguity. I've had a few fun conversations with her after work. "You sure you want to stay?" I ask just to be nice. "Yeah man, my wife is gonna beat the shit out of me," he replied with a laugh that was only half-joking.

But it's also clear who wears the pants in the family (Tino seems to prefer those calf-length pirate pants) and having met his wife, I'm pretty sure she could kick his ass. She's not huge or anything; a thin 5'7" but she's a workout freak and looks like one of the girls who are freakishly strong, kinda like Monica from "Friends." (Also, she's fourteen years older than him.)

I helped set up the place and wish him good luck before I take off. "Thanks, but it's probably going to be dead."

"No, I mean good luck when you go home tonight."

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:09 PM [+] :: | 0 comments

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