After six days of the restaurant looking like this:
I’m starting to look like this:
and feel like this:
Only one more day until I have a day off.
Every time I looked at the door last night there were just more and more and more people. We went on the waitlist at around 4:45 and didn’t get off it until about 9:30. At least on the nights of the 3rd and 4th I couldn’t see all the people camped out on the lawn waiting for a table, but last night was cold and everyone stood inside in the way.
My highlight of the night was an exchange with a redneck woman:
Redneck: “This was supposed to be on garlic toast!”
Me: “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you ask for it.”
Redneck: “I didn’t.”
I have got to stop wearing my tin foil hat to work if I’m ever going to be psychic.