Oh Boy Back to Work

What is one of your most nightmares turns out to be reality, now that is scary. Yes imagine waiting, no not waiting for some person to show up. Imagine waiting on customers at a restaurant. Yes you can call me a WAITER and thanks for that. Let me tell you some specs of my job description. Usher people in, give them the menu, ensure that water is available for all at the table, wait a few nanoseconds until the customer is ready to share his views about the menu, help him make some quick decisions about what would feel best once he gulps it down. Then we send the wish list across to the head chef who is most annoyed at the various repetitive requests. As the minutes fly by and no would be digestive material arrives, the customers tends to get corky, this is the precise moment at which you would give him some food for though and give some lame excuse the next minute. Finally what feels like heaven to the customer has arrived and he would waste no time in making the utensils look unused. Happy and content with the results, he would ask for the bill, which I would like to call the deed of agreement in this case for which he would most unhappily pay for. I would like to state at this point that if the customer was a good looking caucasian female there would be ample amount of advice and service rendered. Once the victims at the tables vacated, Avinash would have all cleaned up in under 30 secs, the Ferrari team would be put to shame.