Fag Hag

Tonight I was working at my new job, and I've been pretty down in the dumps about the pay cut I've taken since my move. The restaurant, although 10 times nicer than my last one is 10 times slower with a much less generous crowd. After cuts were made I got lucky and three oldish, "upper class" looking, white folks walked in. The woman, who looked old from far away but surprisingly younger up close, was on oxygen and had a little tank with her on the booth. When I walked up to the table I guessed the two men were probably brothers and this was their ailing mother, but when I got to the table the one man looked old enough to be the other man's father and the woman maybe looked younger but could possibly be the sick wife of the older looking man but with naturally colored hair. To be clear, from the very beginning I was super confused about the relationships and ages of the people at the table.

So anyway when I got to the table the younger looking man who I will now call man#2 was flipping out and flapping his loose wrists all over the place, while the man next to him (man#1) grabbed his hands and tried to console him. I didn't speak, just gave them water, and immediately walked away from the table assuming the two men were queer as folk and that was their petulant and sick mother.

Man#3 wanted to hear everything I had to say. Man#3 told me it was his birthday and he wanted a nice dry and sweet wine. When I crumpled my face and told him that was impossible he gave me the wheel. I chose the Conundrum for him and they just couldn't get enough of me.

"Wow you are just amazingly knowledgeable. Did you just see how she wiped the lip of the bottle on the towel that's draped over her arm? I barely saw it, she's so graceful"

"yeah, until I knock your full glass over," I so seriously said.

After more compliments for I still couldn't figure out what, I left them and stuck with the same assumptions. When approaching the table again and alerted of the oxygen lady's multiple allergies (fungus,cheese,living cultures????), man#1 said, "okay now what's your name and what are you doing here?" and then began a rapid fire round of my life/goals/ambitions/experiences. All three of them just loved me and I just wanted to close my eyes and let them throw money at me. Then man#1 said, "Nealey, give me your name and phone number before we leave. I might be able to help you out". I almost puked and instead said, "Wow, absolutely. Thank you." By the time apps hit the table I'd decided that man#1 and Oxygen lady (who will from now on be referred to as Lady) were married and this was their son (gay man#2) who I had also begun referring to my colleagues as "a diva."

to be continued... sorry i'm beat, its late as hell!