Tuesday is her day off. And by her, we mean Danielle. And by Danielle, we don’t really know the last name. All we know is, she’s Nana and Papa’s waitress at Park Wayne Diner. Don’t go to Park Wayne on a Tuesday, they will tell you, because Danielle’s not working then. And that means no complimentary coffee, no free cauliflower right when you walk in. Instead? We got a lousy one, maybe even the lousiest. It was Charlie Brown’s Steakhouse. Her name was Joan.
I try to empathize with people because their lives often suck. But I could not empathize with Joan, not a bit. Joan doesn’t introduce herself. But that’s cool. Don’t want to find criticisms where there are none. Except I did find some, plenty to be precise. Rule of thumb for the freshman waiter/waitress: the customer is always right. Don’t argue with my grandparents or they won’t tip.
Nana said not to give her a tip at all. Mom suggested writing in the line designated “tip” to “Sweeten up.” I agreed with Nana: nada. But Papa decided to give her a mere 11 %. To which Nana and I still thought was overdoing it.
Why was Joan so horrible? Is our family just cruel in general? No, let me continue, if you don’t mind:
She argued with my grandparents about the coupons. Or, what my grandma calls, “Kewpons.” To make matters worse, she wouldn’t check out the statuses of our coupons with the manager. And by the way, we had three coupons. No, if she had had it her way, we wouldn’t have been able to use even one coupon!
I won’t get into the logistics because I didn’t really understand them. Something about coupons obviously, and something about a birthday coupon, a rewards card, a credit card, and three $10 coupons but only two would work but which two and did it matter and oh my goodness my head’s going to explode. But it didn’t. We had Joan and not Danielle. Two separate waitresses with two distinct dispositions only one mile apart. It was a Tale of Two Cities.