Statistics

It’s a beautiful warm Saturday night and the Bistro’s packed. The balmy temps must’ve have thawed the Yuppies out of hibernation. We’ve got an impatient line stretching out the door. I’m making money hand over fist. Of course, something has to go wrong. I’m placing an...

Close Quarters Battle

It’s Sunday night. Fluvio went to AC so I’m in charge. The reservation computer tells me we’re gonna be slammed. The Bistro will reach 80% capacity in one hour. That’s the problem with Sunday night. Everyone eats dinner at the same time. I...

Congratulations Post Secret !

I’d like to congratulate Frank Warren of Post Secret for winning the Best American Weblog Award (for which I was nominated) and a bunch of other categories at the 2006 Bloggies. Job well done Frank. You created a brilliant website. The best blog won. Thanks to...

Adventures in Babysitting

It’s a slow lunch. Fluvio’s running around, attending to the million details involved in running a restaurant. Since his wife’s at work, he brought his four year old son Liam with him. “Listen,” Fluvio says, coming up to me, “I’ve got to go out for half an hour. Can...

Tiramisu Dreams

The couple on 24 finishes dinner. The busgirl clears the plates. As I crumb the table the man and woman fall silent. It’s obvious they want to talk in private. There’s an energy passing between them. The air hums with tension. Experience tells me to give them space. I...

Better Luck Next Time

The couple sitting at table 22 is very young and attractive. I’ve seen the guy in here before. He’s been serially dating for a while, playing the field, bringing in a different girl every week. Very poised for his age, not a hair out of place, well dressed and polite,...

Better Days

Beth and I are drinking martinis at Cafe American, one of our friendly competitors, after a hard Saturday night. We’re both tired and in need of post shift medication. “So did you hear about the guy who died?” Beth asks. “Who died?” I reply. “You know the bartender...

Kiss Ass & Run Away

It’s a busy weekday night at the Bistro. Fluvio’s taken his kid somewhere so I’m in charge. The door chimes. Two women walk inside. “Hello ladies,” I say, “How many for dinner?” “Two,” a rather glum looking woman...

Pre-Op

WARNING! If you’re squeamish, skip this post! It’s a slow shift and I’m kibitzing in the back with the other servers. It looks like it’s gonna be a dead night. “So did you see that story about Craigslist on the news last night?”...

Names

Maximilian, our head busboy, is having a baby. Well, sort of. Max’s daughter Isabel, who also works at the Bistro, is six months pregnant. Max is only a few years older than me and this will be his first grandchild. When Max discovered the stork was paying his...