Duncan Cyrus, age 27, The Day: Afternoon
1pm - lunch and I was starving. I still hadn't worked out yet because of my errands. I resolved myself to have a sandwich. Easy and light was my reasoning. I headed over to this cafe type place where they serve a mean BLT. My waitress was an African American that I could tell just started. I made it easy for her because I know people are assholes with new people that serve their food. She had a pretty smile and it was inviting and warm. She had obviously done this job before.
She greeted me with small conversation on the weather and about the changes on the menu. Her speech had been a bit rehearsed but it was cool. She was on the clock after all. She wrote down my BLT with Swiss cheese, baked chips, and a blueberry lemonade. She read it back to me and I could tell she wanted to lick her lips after she read my order. She smiled at me again, turned, and sashayed her hips as she walked away. My shaft came to half-life after that.
It didn't take long for my food. She placed each item one at a time with its description. She actually put my chips on a separate plate saying how people don't like their food touching each other. I'm not that type of person but it was the consideration that counted. She told me she made sure that all my sandwich ingredients was neatly stacked and the bacon was made to perfection. Tasted awesome as well.
She worked me for that tip and I was glad to provide her with a generous one. I mean, come on, she made sure my drink was always full, and she offered some extra chips free of charge. Oh and this one time when she asked about my food and I guess wasn't paying attention and she offered for another to be made, again free. Of course I stopped her, and yes, I pretty much was sure it was her angle or game but too much work was put into it, you got to give props.