The woman on table sixteen is a forty year old, slightly drunk, voluptuous peroxide blond.
And her ass is halfway out of her pants.
Leaning forward in animated conversation she’s oblivious that her backside is sliding out of her jeans. I can’t help but notice it’s a nice ass.
I also notice she’s not wearing any underwear.
“Shouldn’t one of you girls go over and say something to her?” I ask my comrade Arlene.
“Why don’t you do it?”
“Cause I’m a guy. I’ll look like a pervert.”
“Listen, it’s her own damn fault she’s looking skanky. Let her deal with it.” Arlene says.
“Man you girls are cold,” I mutter.
Every male waiter, including myself, makes several unnecessary trips down the aisle to sneak a peek. Women at other tables are giggling. Their husbands, faces flushed with effort, are trying not to look. With every passing moment Blondie’s butt is slipping over the horizon.
“Fluvio,” I say to my boss, “Please go tell that woman what’s happening.”
“Me?”
“You’re the owner.”
“Forget it.”
Taking a deep breath I start to walk over to the lady’s table. Chivalry not being completely dead I decide to clue the woman in on her predicament.
As I approach Blondie says, “I have to use the ladies room,” and starts to get up. Oh no.
“Miss……!”
Too late.
Her jeans hit the floor.
“BRAVO!” a male voice shouts.
“Eeeek!” Blondie cries quickly pulling up her pants.
I pretend I don’t see a thing and continue walking.
“Oh my God,” the woman groans, face buried in her hands.
Another table waves me over. They’re laughing hysterically.
“Oh man did you see that?” one of the patrons asks.
Waiter sangfroid firmly in place I reply,
“Must be a full moon tonight.”
Oh man, that was disgusting! If I was you I may have fainted. Anyway it was correct to tell her that her pants was slipping…. but too late!
I want to drink where you work! LOL!!
I had the same exact experience, only it was a rice-rocket-riding kid with low-rider jeans, walking out of a bank. I was walking across the parking lot toward the bank, and I was just thinking “Hey, that guy’s pants are going to…” and they fell around his ankles. He was wearing big poofy boxer shorts, and it looked hysterical paired with the ultra-cool motorcycle helmet that matched his bike… he didn’t seem fazed – he just hiked them back up to halfway up his ass, which is where they just fell from…. and got on his bike and whined off into the sunset. I was still laughing when I got to the teller window.
HA HA!!! =D
OMG I was crackin up when I read the last sentence 4 Waiter Rant: Pale Moon Rising!
~~that was really clever of u~~
Skye
dat waz funny as hell, is that a real experience? Most guys would just sit there and enjoy the show, I guess ur one of the few good ones. That was a very nice attempt.
I’m sorry, but she knew what she was doing. I’m well aware of where my pants are at all times, particularly if there’s a draft on my ass.
I’m sorry too, there’s no way that happened. No one would be oblivious to their pants slipping down like that. No matter how drunk you are. Nope no way. You must have dreamed that.
reminds me of the time i had to meet the pizza dude downstairs and collect my order. my jeans decided to slip down.( had just started uni and lost a lot of weight. worst thing was i was wearing my marvel comics boxer and a few girls frm my course were having a sitdown outside.
suffice to say i was called spidey a lot since then.
Word to the wise: if you’re going to go comando, where TIGHT fighting jeans!LOL!
Let’s pray that lady isn’t a Waiter Rant reader or else she’s going to be PISSED.