Just Call Me Cyrano

I’m hiding in the kitchen drinking coffee when one of my customers trespasses and walks in. I hate when people do that.

“Sir,” I say warily, “What can I do for you?”

“Hi,” the guy says, looking flustered. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“If I can sir.”

“Did you see the girl I’m eating with?”

The guy’s date is a young woman in a sexy dress with a plunging neckline. I might have noticed her.

“Yes sir?”

“Well, we officially became boyfriend and girlfriend tonight.”

Aw. How fucking cute.

“Congratulations sir,” I say.

“I was wondering if you could do something special with our dessert to mark the occasion.”

“Glad to help sir,” I reply, “What would you like me to do?”

“Could you put a candle in a piece of tiramisu?”

“That’s easy sir. No problem.”

“Could you write something romantic on the plate?” the guy asks.

“What would you like me to write?”

The guy looks thoughtfully at the floor. “I have no idea. Could you think of something?”

What do I look like? Cyrano de Bergerac?

“Uhhhh…..” I say, “Maybe you should….”

“You’ll think of something,” the guy says, “Surprise me.”

I hate when people say that.

“I’ll take care of you sir,” I say with false bravado.

“Thanks a lot,” the guy says, passing Louis on the way out.

“Man,” Louis says, staring. “He’s a cutie.”

“Sorry Louis. He just officially got his very own girlfriend.”

“Too bad.”

“Yeah, and now he wants me to think of something romantic to write on their dessert plate.”

Louis laughs, “That’s putting you on the spot isn’t it?”

“What should I say?” I ask. “I mean the creepy potential is huge.”

“I don’t know,” Louis says thoughtfully.

“How about, ‘CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU NAKED?’” I ask.

“He’s probably already seen her naked,” Louis says.

“How about ‘WHEN YOU’RE TIRED OF HIM CALL ME AT 555-5555?’”

“Even better!” Louis replies. “Write down my number and give the dessert to him.”

“CURIOUS? CALL LOUIS AT 777-7777?” I chuckle.

“That’d be great.” Louis says.

“Counter productive though.”

“Probably lose your tip.”

“I have to think of something romantic but not over the top.”

“Dude,” Louis says, “You write a goddamn blog. You’ll think of something.”

Suddenly, inspiration hits me. I scribble a few lines on a dupe pad and hand it to the sous chef.

“I need you to write this on a dessert plate,” I say.

“Are you kidding me?” Armando balks.

“No.”

“The chocolate sauce is gonna run,” he groans.

“You’re a pro,” I reply, “You’ll figure it out.”

“I’m gonna need a bigger plate,” Armando says.

The chef’s very talented. He dishes up a piece of tiramisu and elegantly traces my words in chocolaty goodness onto the plate.

“Thanks Armando.” I say.

“Anything for amore,” Armando quips.

I light a candle and put it in the tiramisu. With a flourish I deliver it to the young woman.

“I believe you’re celebrating a special occasion tonight,” I say knowingly.

The girl looks mildly annoyed – until she reads what’s on the plate.

“THE HEART HAS REASONS THAT REASON KNOWS NOT OF.”

“Jesus,” her date says.

“That’s my favorite quote!” the girl coos, “How did you know Paul?”

The guy looks befuddled.

“The gentleman obviously remembers his Blaise Pascal madam,” I say smoothly.

“Yeah,” the guy says, “Blaise Pascal.”

I chuckle to myself. I’m glad I didn’t write it in the original French.

“Enjoy your dessert,” I say. My job here is done.

“So what did you write?” Louis asks. I tell him.

“Ah, ‘Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas.’” Louis says with a flawless French accent.

“Appropriate,” I say, “Isn’t it?”

“You ain’t kidding.”

I watch the couple as they eat their dessert. Those words are truly apropos at the start of a relationship. What draws two people together? When you think about it – it’s really a mystery.

The guy motions for the check. I deliver it to him. After he pays the bill he and the girl go outside and begin kissing passionately on the street corner. Ah love.

I pick up the bill. My tip is 13%. I hate when people do that.

“Hey Louis!” I say, waving the check.

“What?” he replies, looking at the receipt.

“I should’ve given the guy your number.”

“I told you,” Louis says laughing.

I stare at the bill angrily. That ungrateful bastard.

Now I know how Cyrano felt.


Comments

Just Call Me Cyrano — 18 Comments

  1. Pingback: Living in the Gray » Blog Archive » Casting out the Demon of Fundamentalist Superiority

  2. Just had to commiserate…why is it that the guy who asks you to help him present an engagement ring, do something special for his date, etc, they leave the shittiest tips?
    Just a few months ago, I had a guy ask me to help him present a ring, then when I got to the table, and did what we’d discussed, he stared at me waiting for ME to propose to his girlfriend. That fucker left about 8%.

  3. Waiters who complain about customers who don’t tip are actually engaging in a socially acceptable type of begging. Why should customers feel anymore obligated to provide their spare change to a beggar in a uniform cum apron than to a beggar in street uniform?

  4. @ comments #11
    we dont beg for tips…we deserve it…if you dont want to tip.. go to fast food line up & order your own food at the counter & look for your own table & make sure you clean up the table after your meal…another cheap bastard

  5. Hey, Anonymous! You are a cheap-ass f*ing bastard! I can’t believe you are so pathetic! Why are you still posting here? If I went with you, to eat anywhere, I would be so ashamed. I would feel humiliated. I would add extra money to the tip while you weren’t looking, so somehow, someway, I could return! You are the biggest LOOSER! If you have no manners, stay home and make yourself (hopefully) e-coli infused peanut butter sandwiches. Jerk.

  6. I waited on a guy who proposed the other night and he left me $120 on $100. Sweet!!

    PS. It’s not begging, it’s providing a service. Anonymous clearly eats alone because no girl would ever go anywhere with him.

  7. Pingback: Watcher of Weasels for October 14th | Gates of Vienna

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