Well, where to begin this week? How about three shifts ago?

Sunday is typically the most interesting day of the week because you never know WHAT is going to happen. As I stood waiting for a large party to get up from their table I took the opportunity to look around the restaurant to see what sorts of people were out and about. Four little kids (about three to four years old) quickly scuffled from a "potty break" and could not help but get my attention with their loud squeals and giggles. As they climbed into the booth ready to resume eating their free kids meals I turned my head for a second to check the status of the dirty table. Glancing back I noticed that one kid was wildly waving a fork around, sort of like an orchestra conductor waves his or her baton. Before the thought fully processed in my mind I heard a small cry gradually grow into a savage cry. Yep, the little girl's pal had poked her in the eye. The parents just sat in their seats shaking their heads. What's the deal with that? The little girl was bawling from being poked in the eye with a utensil, yet the parents did not respond in an alarmed manner. Those sorts of things must happen all the time.

Attempting to get away from the chaos of the dining area, I took my bus tub back to the kitchen in order to "muck" (verb: "to clean") the contents out. While standing in "muck" (noun: "place where one mucks") I happened to look over at the "amigos" (political correctness at its finest) who were conversing with their rapid lexicon of vulgarisms. I could not but laugh about the new one. He, near forty in age and very obscene toward non-Spanish speakers (unaware that I know a thing or two), began talking about the seventeen year-old, pregnant silverware roller. Out of nowhere he asked the girl:

--"So, are you single?"

--"I have a boyfriend."

--"That's cool." (then aside) "Eres muy bonita...muy, MUY bonita."

As if the "relationship" conversation between a middle-aged Hispanic man and a girl twenty-three years his junior were not bad enough, I could not believe what happened next. The amigo picked up a large, plastic container to be placed on the lower shelf of the silverware rolling station. As he bent over his face came but six inches from her buttocks. Even MORE awkward was the fact that he continued looking for a good fifteen seconds (and yes, I timed it). Once he had finished his feat of perversion he returned to his fellow compadres and responded "buen culo" (which I cannot translate into English for censorship reasons, BUT I think you get the idea).

Now that I have gone from forks to butts in a matter of two paragraphs, I can now talk about some things that I do not understand.

A) Why would anyone want a bus boy to do them a favor?

Ok, I know that bus boys are convenient at Roadhouse when the server is nowhere to be found and I am certainly glad to help, but why on Earth would one want a bus boy to get them a to-go box, beverage refill, or clean bread plates? Do people not realize what the last thing a bus boy touched was? It could be anything from honey mustard to rib bones, chicken fat to beer-soaked napkins on the floor. And although I frequently wash my hands, I cannot assure that they are sanitary enough to help out the customer. Nonetheless, the continue to wave down the guy with the garbage-filled bucket in his hands.

B) Why do people not tip well on Sundays?

A family of four had just been served their food when they received an emergency phone call. They asked their server for to-go boxes, cups, and their ticket. The server quickly dropped all of his other obligations to his other tables to quickly get the family on the road. When he returned to the table upon their leaving he noticed that they had left a mere $1.17 on a $40 tab. On top of that, kids meals are free on Sundays. So, off of a would-be $50, the server earned roughly 2.9%. For people working to support their kids on a company hourly wage of $2, every extra dollar is stretched. The fear of having to become a server is a main contributor to my college aspirations.

C) What is with the weird things people leave on the tables?

Simply, here is a list of the most common things left on the table when a family leaves:

1) To-Go boxes

2) cellphone

3) keys

4) hand sanitizer

5) glasses

6) "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz"

7) prescription meds

8) dirty diapers

9) Happy Meal toys

10) shredded photo of boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse