I cant work with this script anymore....
I was taking the order for a table of eight the other night when I became very aware of something that I do. I've always known that I do it, I just never really thought about it.
I approached the first person at the table, a well dressed lady with a huge laugh that sounded something akin to the crash bang wallop of the coal lorry. Coal lorry? That's right the coal lorry, I'm that old.
In her best Belfast accent she said, "I'll hawve the lawmb shank wi the chawmp so ah will."
"Beautiful madame", says I as I translated what she asked for onto my order pad/napkin.
I turned to the next chap who I assumed to be her husband due to the obvious passive aggression emanating from them.
"I'll hawve.....eh.....where was it now......eh...Mary, what was it again", he was lost in the menu, lost with no conceivable way out.
"Sake....", snapped the lady beside him, "....he'll hawve the liver an bacon so he will, with chaps."
"Beautiful choice sir."
The next person to order was a young lady, it was her 21st birthday and the reason why everybody was out. She was sporting the new necklace her parents bought her to mark this significant moment. Nothing says happy birthday daughter more than a shiny hologram pendant thingy with your dead grandparents on it. Seriously.
"I'll hawve the rissatto wi just a wee bit of salad.........so ah will."
"Rissatto? What's rissatto? You nat gettin a steak?", asked her mother in complete horror at the thought of risotto.
"She finks she pash", added the brother.
"Grease yer heels 'n slide on wee lad", came the fantastic response from the risotto ordering sister. I nearly peed with laughter.
"Oh no the risotto is a great choice, just beautiful", I added to reassure her.
And off I popped round the table securing orders from all the diners, translating into to English along the way. I love the Belfast accent but crikey it does offer a few challenges.
I got to the last person, a young man wearing a fetcing pink and grey sweatshirt with the very obvious remnants of his baked bean flavoured lunch. Nothing says happy birthday sweet sister like not changing your sweater. For some reason he was sniggering, in fact the whole table was sort of sniggering. I assumed I had missed something or it was an in-joke that I wasn't involved in.
"Now sir what can I get you this evening?", I asked with pen poised over my order pad, such as it was.
"I'll hawve the steak, nae sauce or any of that there salad or anyfing like that....just the steak awnd chaps."
"And how will you have it cooked sir?", I had already written down "well done" but it's only polite to ask.
"Vary well done mate", says he smiling at me.
"Very good sir", and with that I collected the menus. But I could see them all nudging each other and struggling to control their laughter.
"Was his nat beautiful?", asks the daughter, "Mines was beautiful.... so was my mummy's"
"So was mines and his too", jumped in the Aunty whilst pointing at her husband.
"HA! Yeah I do that, sorry, it's just a force of habit. Your steak will be beautiful too sir", says I reassuring the young man. No it bloody wont though is what I was thinking. But by this time the table had descended into a cacophony of laughter with the mother's coal lorry laughing practically drowning everybody else out whilst they told each other that their shirts were beautiful and their bottles of beer were beautiful. Crikey!
I do it all the time. I comment on the order as I get it. There are lots of, beautiful' and lovely' and good choice' as I write the order down. But try as I might I just cant say anything positive when someone orders a well done steak. I just cant. Anyway I escaped from the table leaving them to their hearty laughter. At least they were laughing and having a good time, pity it was at my expense.
"Why you so red?", asked the boss.
"Got pwnd by the table of spides over there"
"Ha!", says he, "Well you should have been more careful"
"Eh?" replied I confused to what he meant.
"Always beware the spides of March"
"Beautiful", thought I.
I approached the first person at the table, a well dressed lady with a huge laugh that sounded something akin to the crash bang wallop of the coal lorry. Coal lorry? That's right the coal lorry, I'm that old.
In her best Belfast accent she said, "I'll hawve the lawmb shank wi the chawmp so ah will."
"Beautiful madame", says I as I translated what she asked for onto my order pad/napkin.
I turned to the next chap who I assumed to be her husband due to the obvious passive aggression emanating from them.
"I'll hawve.....eh.....where was it now......eh...Mary, what was it again", he was lost in the menu, lost with no conceivable way out.
"Sake....", snapped the lady beside him, "....he'll hawve the liver an bacon so he will, with chaps."
"Beautiful choice sir."
The next person to order was a young lady, it was her 21st birthday and the reason why everybody was out. She was sporting the new necklace her parents bought her to mark this significant moment. Nothing says happy birthday daughter more than a shiny hologram pendant thingy with your dead grandparents on it. Seriously.
"I'll hawve the rissatto wi just a wee bit of salad.........so ah will."
"Rissatto? What's rissatto? You nat gettin a steak?", asked her mother in complete horror at the thought of risotto.
"She finks she pash", added the brother.
"Grease yer heels 'n slide on wee lad", came the fantastic response from the risotto ordering sister. I nearly peed with laughter.
"Oh no the risotto is a great choice, just beautiful", I added to reassure her.
And off I popped round the table securing orders from all the diners, translating into to English along the way. I love the Belfast accent but crikey it does offer a few challenges.
I got to the last person, a young man wearing a fetcing pink and grey sweatshirt with the very obvious remnants of his baked bean flavoured lunch. Nothing says happy birthday sweet sister like not changing your sweater. For some reason he was sniggering, in fact the whole table was sort of sniggering. I assumed I had missed something or it was an in-joke that I wasn't involved in.
"Now sir what can I get you this evening?", I asked with pen poised over my order pad, such as it was.
"I'll hawve the steak, nae sauce or any of that there salad or anyfing like that....just the steak awnd chaps."
"And how will you have it cooked sir?", I had already written down "well done" but it's only polite to ask.
"Vary well done mate", says he smiling at me.
"Very good sir", and with that I collected the menus. But I could see them all nudging each other and struggling to control their laughter.
"Was his nat beautiful?", asks the daughter, "Mines was beautiful.... so was my mummy's"
"So was mines and his too", jumped in the Aunty whilst pointing at her husband.
"HA! Yeah I do that, sorry, it's just a force of habit. Your steak will be beautiful too sir", says I reassuring the young man. No it bloody wont though is what I was thinking. But by this time the table had descended into a cacophony of laughter with the mother's coal lorry laughing practically drowning everybody else out whilst they told each other that their shirts were beautiful and their bottles of beer were beautiful. Crikey!
I do it all the time. I comment on the order as I get it. There are lots of, beautiful' and lovely' and good choice' as I write the order down. But try as I might I just cant say anything positive when someone orders a well done steak. I just cant. Anyway I escaped from the table leaving them to their hearty laughter. At least they were laughing and having a good time, pity it was at my expense.
"Why you so red?", asked the boss.
"Got pwnd by the table of spides over there"
"Ha!", says he, "Well you should have been more careful"
"Eh?" replied I confused to what he meant.
"Always beware the spides of March"
"Beautiful", thought I.
