free 2 be marlo

Sunday, May 23, 2004

Posted by Jerko @ 5:58 a.m. ET

English is my second language. I've been communicating with it for a span of just under twenty years, but with such frequency that one assumes that I am a native speaker. Every once in a while, my comprehension of the language trips me up and causes trouble. For example, when someone says to me, "I'd like a round of margaritas for the table. These same ones that I have here."

He is, of course, refering to the handmade margarita that sits in front of him, half drunk, made with Cabo Wabo Blanco tequila- an $8 drink at my restaurant. I quickly count the number of people at the table and double check that he really wants 12 of these. A woman speaks up and says that she doesn't want another drink at all, lowering the request to 11. Another pipes up and asks for sour cream to defile her slow roasted pork dish. I strive to confirm the order. 11 handmade margaritas for this table.

I percieve an affirmative response from the gentleman.

Writing down the order, I move onto my next table- 10 women out on the town for a bachelorette party. After struggling to get their orders, I head to the computer and put in the order for food, then move on to the drinks, knowing the food will take longer to prepare than the drinks.

Just before I enter the $88 order for margaritas, I doubt myself and double check with the table upstairs. Indeed, it is not eleven drinks as they led me to believe, but rather nine. Nine margaritas. Confidently, I proceed return to the computer and put in my order for 9 Cabo Wabo Blanco Handmade margaritas and a regular margarita from the tap, on the rocks. Drinks delivered, food checked on, replacement pitchers of water carried.

End of the meals comes, checks are delivered and passed around the tables for everyone to calculate their contribution. I move on to an adjacent, empty table and begin to clear off the plates and remains of the meal eaten earlier that night.

As I go about my tidying, I am surprised by the efflux of people downstairs carrying their bill with them. Keeping an eye on them, I notice them talking to the manager and clearly discussing the contents of the slip of paper in front of them. I continue about my duties and notice the bill reappear on the table. Upon collecting it, I learn the meaning of "I'd like a round of margaritas for the table. These same ones that I have here." In my broken english, I would translate the real meaning as, "Another round of drinks for everyone and if they have margaritas, make them these."

My broken english just cost me 18% of a $400 tab.

Mike and Tom Zimbrick, you owe me $72, you cheap malcontents.

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