With A Smile, Of Course

By Pat Chadwick

Most of the waitresses at The Feed Store Restaurant are young mothers and naturally, they wanted
to spend Easter with their family. Who could blame them? I’m not so old I don’t remember how
important holidays are with the children.

So, out of the (foolish) goodness of my heart and thoughtlessness of my body, I offered to pitch in and play waitress for a day.

It went something like this:

As the patrons sat down at their table, I gingerly WALKED over to them, greeted them cheerfully and asked them what they would like to drink - with a SMILE, of course. After I received that information, I hurriedly WALKED to the back and prepared their refreshments. Then quickly I WALKED to the table CARRYING the drinks to them and BENT over to place them at the upper right sides - with a SMILE, of course.

After I took their order, I WALKED back to heat up their small loaf of bread - homemade, of course - REACHED up to get their butter, plates and knives. Then I WALKED back to the table CARRYING the ‘wonderful’ warm bread to them. I BENT over to place it in the center of the table - with a SMILE, of course.

I WALKED to the back, REACHED up for the bowls, prepared their ‘piping hot’ soup, and quickly RUSHED back to the table CARRYING the bowls which were BURNING my hands. I BENT over to place them in front of each person - with a SMILE, of course.

I WALKED back to the waitress station and STOOD while I waited for the customers to consume the soup. I kept a watchful eye to see if everything was going okay and to make sure their drinks never got below the one third imaginary mark on their glasses. About this time, I NUDGED open the swinging door, WALKED back to the kitchen to turn the order in to the cook with a smile.

Before long, the patrons were half finished with the ‘wonderful homemade’ soup so, it was time to prepare the salads. I REACHED up and PULLED open the freezer door to retrieve the salad plates, PULLED open the refrigerator door, and BENT down to get the lettuce. I STOOD as I added all the little extras that make the salad look ‘just lovely’ and BENT down to get the ‘delicious’ salad dressing of choice. I then WALKED back to the table (with a slight CRAMP this time) as I CARRIED the ‘lovely’ salads to the customers where I carefully BENT to serve them - with a SMILE, of course.

I PICKED UP the empty soup bowls and LIMPED back to the kitchen, PUSHED open the swinging door, where I had the ‘absolute pleasure’ of SCRAPING off any remaining food scraps. I then REACHED over to neatly and carefully set the plates in the appropriate place for the dishwasher and smiled.

The customers needed a refill of their ‘cool and refreshing’ drinks, so I WALKED back to their table, retrieve their glasses, WALKED to the waitress station, BENT down for the ice, REACHED for the dispenser, FILLED the glasses with the appropriate fluids, added the twist of lemon to ensure the refreshment’s attractiveness, and WALKED back to their table, where I BENT to serve them - with a SMILE, of course.

While I STOOD in the back I whimpered as I saw that I had broken my very best finger nail as I opened a bottle of aspirin to help relieve the CRAMP in my back that refused to go away. I then RUNG out a clean cloth soaking in bleach water and WASHED off counters in an attempt to stop my brain from thinking about my bunions that seemed to be crying out for sympathy.

I then noticed my customers were finished with their salads so, I WALKED back to their table and BENT to pick up their plates - with a SMILE, of course.

I CARRIED the plates, as I LIMPED back to the kitchen in pain, wondering how upset the owner would get if I sat down and took off my shoes - for ‘just one little minute.’

Realizing that was not possible, I GROANED as I stubbed my toe while I KICKED open the swinging door that slammed into the shelves. I scraped off the remaining scraps of ‘lovely salad’ that wasn’t so ‘lovely’ now and carelessly TOSSED the plates over to the approximate area for the dishwasher - who then had the nerve to voice his opinion about my ‘placement’ of the plates.

I could NOT have cared less!

I asked the cook in a sharp tone of voice, as I rubbed my toe, when the heck the main entrée was going to be finished and he snapped, “It’ll be done when it’s done!” So, I KICKED open the swinging door that slammed into the counter and MOANED at what I had just done to my toe once again.

I WALKED back to the customer’s table with a definite LIMP this time and informed them, ever so politely, that their meal would be out shortly and - I didn’t forget the SMILE - in spite of my pain - of course.

Then I WALKED back to the waitress’ station where I STOOD on one foot for a few more minutes, watching my customers in an intimate conversation, rubbing my aching back and stewing over how I wanted to strangle the dishwasher and cook the first chance I got.

The cook impatiently rang the bell that rattled my nerves. So, I KICKED open the swinging door that slammed into the shelves with the same wounded toe and MOANED as I garnished the entrées with ‘eye-pleasing’ parsley. I GRABBED the darn plates as I KICKED open the swinging door (with my left foot this time), and giggled with evil satisfaction as the hinges began to give way when it slammed the counter for the umpteenth time.

I LIMPED back to serve my patrons and mindful of my aching back, I slowly BENT over to place the plates gently in front of them - still SMILING, of course.

In silent discuss I noticed my patrons’ glasses needed to be refilled yet again. I wearily sighed to myself as I BENT to snatch up their glasses, and slowly LIMPED to the back, where I BENT and REACHED, as my body began to ‘creak’ to PREPARE the ‘cool and refreshing’ drinks, wondering why customers don’t just get up off their duffs and get their own darn drinks.

As I slowly HOBBLED back to the table and BENT to place the drinks at the customers’ upper right sides - with a SMILE, of course - they asked for condiments.

Well, we all know what that means, now don’t we?

I’ll WALK, LIMP, BEND, CREAK, REACH, STRETCH, CARRY, GROAN, MOAN and SMILE some more, of course.

So, if you see me LIMPING in the grocery store, you’ll understand why my body is rebelling and why my face doesn’t want to SMILE. Besides, I’m still working on how to ‘do in’ that cook, dishwasher and those patrons I waited on who didn’t leave me a tip.

I thanked them for coming, though, and I said it - with a SMILE, of course.

The above story was written in jest except for the aches and pains. That was real and the customers were actually wonderful.

The best part was, after the restaurant was closed on Easter Sunday, Larry and I were invited to come back over for a ‘family dinner.’ We all laughed, joked around and told silly Easter bunny stories while the owner and customers that I had served that day, did an ‘about face’ and waited on me.

It made it all worth while. - Well, sort of.