I'm a waiter.
So yeah it's still my first few weeks working at Olive Garden, and of course working there you have to offer wine to everyone. I normally offer a white wine since we serve mainly pasta, and it tastes good with that. Also it's summer and hotter, so people want a cold drink.
I was working last weekend and it was busy as hell. Towards the end of the night before I get to my newest table I'm informed that the people I'm about to serve are generally huge spenders, and are also regulars and important people, so my bosses and everyone was putting pressure on me. Even though I'm new, they thought I was good enough to serve them well anyway. I was told to expect a huge tip.
I walked over and introduced myself and looked around at them. There was an older married couple, musta been around 50 (the wife wore a monocle for some strange reason) with a younger couple, all dressed like they just got back from somewhere else far more important. So I do my usual casual conversation, offering wine and appetizers etc, just pretending they aren't who they are. Most of the time people don't want a wine, but this couple of couple's did. In fact they wanted sparkling wine (that's like champagne, it's bubbly) and the most expensive kind, Chandon White Star Champagne, and a bottle of it (48 bucks).
While I was getting their food and everything I tried to remember the training videos on how to open a bottle of sparkling wine. First you peel off the top covering layer and put it in your pocket (it's rude to leave it on the table). Then there's a tab covering the cork that you pull off. As soon as you pull it off, you have to hold down the cork because there's so much pressure from the CO2 build up that it'll fly right off, which would be a very bad thing. Then you hold the cork tightly and slowly twist the bottle at the bottom with your other hand. If you pop it, you bruise the wine, altering its taste, and risk the cork flying and major spillage. If you're careful enough, using that method the cork comes off without a problem, with just a small pop or burp.
I was getting really nervous going through all this in my head. I didn't want to ask anyone how easy or hard it was because I didn't want to look stupid. I got their breadsticks and salad on a tray. I set it down and served them, then I went and got the bottle of champagne. I held the bottle and got out my waiters friend, a cutting tool. I remember feeling like they were all watching me, the young woman with her black silky hair and white sequined dress, the gentlemen with her with a stern serious face, the old man with his balding head and idiot grin. But in particular the old woman with the monocle. Why the hell was she wearing that? Was she crazy? And worst of all I can just imagine the cork shooting off in her direction, smashing the monocle and going through her eye into her brain, and me being instantly fired. The room was hot and I was sweating.
I tore off the first layer of wrapping and put it in my shirt pocket. Then I grabbed the tab and peeled it back and held the cork with my thumb. I could feel the cork wanting to rise, so I had to put more pressure down on it. I twisted the bottle. It was soaking wet from condensation. Fuck! I forgot to wipe it clean first before trying to open it, how could I forget?!? My hand was slipping and I couldn't get a good grip on the bottle. Was everyone seeing me panic? I smiled at everyone and laughed a little, they smiled back at me but then immediately their eyes fell back down to my hands and the bottle, I especially felt the monocle's presence on my hands, burning through it with a laser beam. I kept twisting, turning, inching the cork up safely with my control.
Finally it was almost out. There was just a centimeter or so left. I stopped turning the bottle, grabbed the cork and moved it back and forth to guide it out. It was almost over. I finally heard the pop and the table started laughing and clapping enthusiastically. I was so relieved words can't describe the pressure that was taken off me. The rest of the meal would be a piece of cake compared to this, I thought. I looked joyfully over at everyone, rejoicing gaily with them that the ordeal was over. The young woman, the young man, the old man, and finally the crazy monocle lady who at this point was clapping her hands and bouncing in her chair laughing with an open mouth. My penis flew straight out of my pants and impaled her through her monocle eye. Everything stopped. A plate dropped and crashed in the distance. The young couple was frozen. Blood seeped out of her eye socket and skull and covered her face and neck, as well as the back of her seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my general manager drop a towel, his lips quivering too much to decide what to say. The balding man was stunned beyond belief, then started licking my enormous penis, the part that was sticking out through the back of his deceased's skull.
Well that night when I gathered all my tips, there was an awe of silence around me. The chefs eyed me with respect, even the old guy, Stretch, promised I'd never have to wait more than 10 minutes for a T-bone steak. A female coworker I had liked since the first shift we worked together gave me her number. And on my way out of the restaurant my general manager bowed to me. I felt pretty good that night, better than I could remember feeling in a long time, though when I repeat my story to others I find myself oddly embarrassed.