I was supposed to close with Anna last night; she asked Dallas to close for her. I was aggravated enough by that--the girl is whiny and lazy and just plain fucking obnoxious. I was spared closing with her, though ... because Lapdog told Anna he needed to have "at least one strong server" closing. Ouch, right?
I was a bit cranky over the for a while, but I'm guessing he probably didn't mean it that way--or why would he keep scheduling me for closes? I've got four next week, for Chrissakes. So eventually I just started making jokes about--"Hey Anna, can you take water to 40 for me? Because, you know, I'm just not a strong server."
Later on, I had a table of two. The guy had showed up first, and ordered own primo, most expensive margarita. When his friend finally showed up, I suggested one for her, too, and she ordered one. She ordered a meal off our super annoying dieter's menu; I went to take care of my other tables. A few minutes later, I saw Lapdog chatting with them. As I walked to the kitchen with some plates he stopped me.
"They'd never heard about [Horrid Diet Margarita]," he said. "Why didn't you tell them about it?"
I fought not to roll my eyes. "Well, I thought we were focusing on the [most expensive drink on the menu] right now."
"Naw, we're focusing on all them!" he then laughed, and put his arm around my shoulders, and gave me an affectionate shake. "Help me out here!"
I was so startled I didn't know what to do! He was touching me! And being ... I don't know, like a normal person instead of a big jackass. WTF? I kind of laughed and continued to the kitchen; he followed me, saying (very nicely) that I needed to remember to tell people about that nasty drink.
"I thought the [premium drink] would be an easier sell, because he already had one." I pointed out. I didn't mention there's a $2 price difference as well.
Lapdog was actually quiet for a moment then! "You might have a point there. But tell people about it anyway when they order those low-cal things. "
(This next part maybe requires a bit of description. Lapdog's nickname among the staff used to be Lumbergh, as in "Office Space". He doesn't talk like him, but there is a startling physical resemblance -- not to the actor, really, but that character. It's strong enough that a friend of mine who doesn't even work with me took this picture, cut out Lumbergh, and pasted it in to a picture of my workplace--then added my restaurant's logo to his shirt and mug!)
The rest of the night passed at a slow crawl--I had a decent number of tables, but I really didn't feel like being there so it seemed to last forever. We had a couple of tables hanging out after close, but they were Anna's, so I was in the back attempting to scrape old soup off the expo line. We had the classic rock station on, so I'm scrubbing along to "Whole Lotta Love", restraining myself from singing because you can really only sing to that song loudly.
Which is exactly what Lapdog came around the corner doing. Okay, so he was singing, no big deal ... except he very rarely sings. Also, it was at about 4:48 in to the song. And let's be honest, nobody wants to hear their boss groaning about that. Especially not if he looks like Lumbergh.