Out Of The Office
The rich always tip best when I smile. They slip a twenty, sometimes even a benjamin, into my pocket when their partners aren't looking. I'll give them a playful wink even if some aren't carrying what I'm interested in. Tonight though, tips may be sparse because I have been proclaimed the babysitter.
"You've waited tables before, haven't you?" I ask the newbie, Noah or something.
"I have not," he replies, puzzling me.
Why Steven would get the help of someone without experience is beyond me. He has handed me a toddler in need of potty training on one of our busiest nights this year. A very last minute corporate meeting happened in the hotel's ballroom. Now our attached restaurant is serving a sea of snobs without prior notice. I don't need this dude messing with my bag on a potentially very green evening.
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