I remember my childhood dream of wanting to open a bed and breakfast. Then I grew up, worked in fast food, realized I’m not always a big fan of people and got a new dream. Before the dream was completely crushed and dead, I decided to try my hand at being a Hostess. I remember it like it was yesterday. The summer of 2009; pre-crushed restaurant dreams of grandeur.
I quickly nailed the friendly hello’s, sweeping arm that says, “this is your table”, and of course the ever important “How was your meal Sir?”
One evening a friend and I were manning the Hostess desk. All was quiet and going well. Then a man game to the front inquiring of the whereabouts of the restrooms, of course I could not help but see an opportunity to use sarcasm. I gestured (with my perfected arm sweep) to the men’s restroom and told him where it was, then I gestured in the opposite direction and directed him to the Ladies room. And told him if he would prefer he could use the women’s as well.
I’ll admit the joke was a little lame. But at this point it was still cool. When the man left the restroom a few minutes later, I asked him straight-faced:
“So, how was it?”
Man: (Confused) “Good?”
My co-hostess is looking back and forth between us trying to figure out if I really just asked the man how his bowel movement went.
Yes.
Yes I did.
No.
It was not on purpose.
And yes.
I’m not going to lie. I’m not sad I’ll never see him again.
