I’m training a couple of new waiters. I forget their names. Actually, I don’t want to know their names. They probably won’t last long. Being a waiter is like being a soldier in combat. Veterans don’t want get to know the green recruit. They’re going to get blown up anyway so why waste the time?

Louis and I are sitting around with one of the trainees drinking coffee. He looks lost.

“Hey, you know what we need around here?” Louis says.

“What?” I reply.

“A waiter with Tourette’s Syndrome.”

“That would be sweet,” I agree.

“Huh?” New Guy asks nervously.

“It’s a disorder where people have involuntary facial and vocal tics. Sometimes they curse like a sailor and fling their arms about. They can’t help it,” I explain.

“How on earth is that a good thing in a waiter?” New Guy demands.

“Louis sir,” I say smiling.


“A demonstration if you please.”

Louis gets up pretending to address a table.

“Good evening Messieurs and Madams. Tonight we have a lovely bing bing BOOP! rack of lamb with a white wine Grrrr SHAKA SHAKA demi glaze.”

The new guy looks horrified.

“Yes Madam? Oh, we can put the sauce on the f-f-f-f-f-FUCKING side, No problem BOOP!

The other waiters are on the floor laughing.

Oui Oui Monsieur I LIKE YOUR WIFE”S RACK VERY MUCH! Merde! I mean your wife would like the rack very much. BOOP!

“Let’s hope they don’t ask about the fish specials,” I whisper to New Guy.

“Madam would like lemon with her Ch- Ch-CHEAPSKATE MOTHERFUCKING water! SNORT! But of course!” Louis yelps.

I wipe a tear form my eye. Louis and I have been doing this Tourettes shtick for years.

My name is Louis WHOOP! and it will be my pleasure to s-s-s-s-serve you BITCHES! tonight. Oh! Pardon Moi.”

“The best part of all this is if we hire a waiter with Tourettes he can’t get fired.” I say

“Why not?” New Guy asks in disbelief.

“American’s with D-d-d-d disabilities Act BING!” Louis spurts.

“No discrimination at this Bistro,” I add.

You guys are crazy,” New Guy says moving rapidly away from us.

“You might be right,” I reply.

Louis sits down exhausted from his little bit of theatre.

“I don’t think the new guy is gonna last,” he says.

“I don’t either. No sense of humor.”

“What his name?’

“I don’t f-f-f-f-fucking remember.”

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