Sunday, February 2, 2014

Super Bowl, in Retrospect

I worked for a family restaurant for a few months in about 1985 or so. I would occasionally get tips from the waitress or from a customer, I did fast good tasting and presentable food, I was proud of my work. I wound up getting paired up with this one guy that hussled tips from the waitress, his food didn't really meet my standards, but it was a busy place and I couldn't do it alone. He'd constantly pressure the waitresses to feed the "kitty" each time they picked up an order, even if he was working on another order, he had to hussle. At the end of the shift, he was counting up his booty and I asked, "How much did we get?"; his answer was, "There is no "Our" tips, I hustled them, they are mine. I didn't say anything about it, and I did have to work with him a couple more times and he pulled the same tactics., but we rarely got the same shift. A few weeks later, the schedule for Super Bowl week end came out. Funny, he was scheduled and I wasn't. I am not a big sports fan, and I rarely know who is playing, much less even where, so I didn't think any thing about it. Suddenly my co-worker was talking about the great Super Bowl party with a lot or his and some of my and even a few mutual friends. I really didn't care to go to a party where everyone went nuts for no apparent reason, cheering eating and drinking, standing in line for the toilet and making a big deal out of something that I would normally use for an excuse to drink, hell, waking up each day was good enough for me, I didn't need a party. 
Soon, the guy was fast talking other people to change shifts with him so he could make it to the party. When he got to me, he said, "Hey Tony! I'll give you $50 if you work for me Sunday. "Nope", I said. I don't want to work Sunday, too busy." He continued to beg people about that time, offering more and more money to take his shift. At the last possible minute on the night before the game he said "I'll give you $150 to work for me." "Naw, I'm good, I have other plans." I left that Saturday, and about the time half-time was starting up, my wife and I went down to the restaurant and ordered lunch, sitting at the counter where we could watch my co-worker really, really hussle! He was swamped, running his ass so fast that he didn't have time to beg for tips. I enjoyed it, he was working and I wasn't. I was eating lunch. I think I had a club sandwich, one of the most time consuming sandwiches on the menu. He didn't even know I had ordered it. He looked up and saw me eating it and started to turn red in the face. "YOU ordered that?" he said in an accusatory voice. "Why aren't you home watching the game?" I gave a big grin and I said, "What game? I hate football." I gave the waitress a big tip on the condition that that she did not share it with the cook. We finished up and went shopping. The stores were hardly at all crowded, we had a pleasant time and eventually went home and relaxed. You know, Karma can be a real bitch, ya know?

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65 year old disabled veteran.