A Busboy's Revenge Saturday nights at the first restaurant I ever worked at were busy. From four thirty on, it was a mad panicked stampede which usually wound up in frayed nerves, loose tongues, and hurt feelings. The only reason why I worked so hard for so little money ($2.01 p/h plus ten percent of the tips) was because it was 1980 and I was too young and dumb to know any better.
There was a hostess I'll call Laurie. She usually ran herd on us busboys calling us lazy, slow and stupid. Well, Laurie had a mouth in desperate need of braces and a screechy voice that needed to be lowered a couple of octaves. Her teeth would have made Bugs Bunny jealous. Those teeth also contributed to a lisp problem. Her S's and TH's sounded like F's and her R's sounded like W's. MY name is Russ. When ever she gave me orders, it went like this: "Wuff! Wuff! I need Boofs (Booths)!"
On this Saturday night, I was heading towards the dish room with a bustub overflowing with dishes. Laurie needed a table cleared. Seeing me rush past, she ran after me , yelling,"Wuff! Wuff! Wuff!" I spun around and shouted, "SIT GIRL SIT!"
Everyone in the dining room--customers included--burst out laughing. After the rush was over, the manager tried to write me up but couldn't. She kept cracking up as well.