Dear Regulars,

Do not address me or look me in the eye when I am not serving you.

I am not working in the lounge today, you and your hissy-fit needs are not my concern. I will stay on MY side of the resturant, and you will demand five whole oranges because you come here all the time on YOUR side of the resturant.

I will stay in the dining room and clean up after the legions of hockey team, and you will sit in 'your booth' for five hours demanding special treatment because you've been around longer than most of the servers.

And when I come into the bar you will not look at me or quiz me on the menu.

I DESPISE YOU.

-Your Waitress.

Dear Women's Hockey Team,

I do not have memorized every bottle of beer we have. I can tell you what's on draft. I can hand you the drink menu you've put your jersy on top of. But insisting I name them because 'the puck drops in half an hour, man' does not inspire in me the knowledge I just do not posses.


Also, we make caesars in a small glass. Your lecture about tall glasses was appreciated, however, I do not make the caesars and here they come in a short glass. Again, yes, I'm sorry, I know you went to another location and it was in a tall glass, please just let me bring you one in a tall glass and then you can stop saying words to me. Yes, I know, now, thank you: Caesars are supposed to come in a tall glass. I'll never ever ever make that mistake ever again if you don't repeat yourself. And fine, I'll tell the bartender she's doing it wrong. Yes, I'll tell her to make it in a tall glass. Caesars come in a tall glass, I understand.


Also, you're the only lesbians I know who made sure I knew you were gay then under tipped.

-Your waitress.