Staff Sundays: Things my coworkers said.

While this blog is primarily about the people who dine in Times Square, tonight the focus will shift; the following comments and dialogues you are about to read really happened -- the names and other incriminating details have been subtracted. This will now become a Sunday night ritual known as: Staff Sundays. Enjoy this reoccurring piece on restaurant realism. 

Male server: "Well, he sort of has hobbit feet. You know, like kankles. Kankles on guys are hot."

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Female server, to a taken-Male server: "Do you have any brothers that are available?"

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Female server: "Well, they left 20%. They should have left more to cover the three trips I made to the kitchen for extra ranch dressing. Seriously, who are these people & where do they breed?"

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Male server, to manager in kitchen: "Yeah, remember when you'd hit me really hard and I'd make you comp my meals?" 

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Female server: "This place doesn't drive me to drink, it's the people in this place that do it. I'm not an alcoholic, but... it's a borderline situation."

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Manager: "I am thirty years old, I manage people who are in their twenties, who have graduated high school, and most of them? Most of them have gone on & graduated college, too. Can you please explain to me... why am I settling arguments about CUPS?"

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Bartender: "Where do we keep the guns? Side pantry?"

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Male Server, dumbfounded, to server: "Yeah, this lady asked if she could get less noodles in her scampi... less noodles." 

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Female server, angry & talking to herself at the soda machine: "You want water? With no ice? Really, like I care about mixing two states of matter... I have a [bleeping] college degree, lady." 

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Male server: "Look, I know Raven Simone may be fat, but she's the one on national television in Times Square and I'm the one serving at a restaurant; props to her."

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Two female servers talking about a private matter & a manager approaches.

Female server: "... and then... (notices manager)... HEY... hey... I came up with a new birthday song, it goes, "Hey... it's your birthday... Hey, it's your... okay, I'm going."

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Male server, to table: "Of course we can do that. We're really good at special orders here. I like pushing all the modification buttons on the computer."

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Male server: "Is tonight really happening? Is this real? It's 7pm and I haven't had one table that speaks English. I knew I should have listened to my parents... but I wanted to be an actor."

Can you speak up? I'm trying to compete with textsfromlastnight.com,