“Oh, I think I’m a little too old for you.”
Upon paying a compliment recently to the attire of a woman who frequented the establishment where I wait tables, that was the response I received. This woman was a fairly attractive individual, at least on the exterior, and the sweater dress that snuggled her form was laden with shapes of snowflakes and the essence of the holiday season. I, therefore, thought it appropriate to place the compliment in her ear, as I’ve found that reiteration of quality appearance is a tasteful, but not too forthright, approach, when initially interacting with clientele who have gathered to feast at the restaurants I’ve worked at.
Her verbal reaction, however, did not appease to my taste of earthly comrades, and neither did the rest of our exchange. She was in constant need of dining formalities, but not when the rest of her party requested such accommodations. If there is one thing a waiter despises, it is asking confidently and cohesively of any additional desires after presenting the food to the table and then scampering off to collect, only to find one straggler who was quite present during the initial discussion, and yet pipes in for “another” upon the waiter’s most recent return. It’s like reminding someone to bring a coat, and then listening to them complain all night about the cold after they don’t.
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