When I was bartending at the OG I used to have this regular come in who had the cutest kids. They really were precious creatures and I’m not being facetious or snide in the slightest. They really were. And their mother (let’s call her Stuffy) was quite the MILF. She was hot. Very hot.
And crazy as deep-fried batshit.
She would come in about three or four nights a week and stay from about 5:00 til about 8:30. One of the reasons she enjoyed eating there was the free wine sampling policy which she would abuse like a redheaded stepchild. The other reason was the free babysitting provided by yours truly. That’s right–she would come in and sit her two-year old daughter and her four-year old son at a bar and go to the restroom or go outside and make a phone call or whatever the hell she would do and expect me to watch them. And I would. Because I would have hated it if something happened to them while they were at my bar, no matter how busy I might have been. I guess I’m just a . . . what do they call it . . . a human being like that. People, I have even read books to these kids while their mother spent twenty minutes in the bathroom, which is something that I got the impression didn’t happen a lot (the reading thing not the twenty minute potty break thing).
Stuffles was a very demanding customer who modified the ever-living sheeyut out of everything that went down her cock holster, but she was (at first) a moderately decent tipper. As time went on her list of demands and her constant asking for more free vino and her babysitting requirements increased and increased and somehow her tip percentage went down and down. The more I tried to make her happy the more she would ask of me and the less she would give.
Meh. Typical asinine customer behavior you might say. Except for the dropping the kids off at the bar. That was pretty unusual. I’ve never seen that before or since. I even tried writing a song lyric about it but nobody got it because who the fudge does that?
But the real problem I had with her, the real reason she stands out in my memory is what she would feed her kids. She would never ever ever EVER order anything for her kids but tubetti pasta in butter.
And that’s it.
‘Oh that’s all they’ll eat. I can’t get them to eat anything else’ she would say.
I would let them try all sorts of stuff. Any kind of thing I could get my hands on that remotely resembled actual food–my food, coworkers’ food, soup, whatever. In a restaurant there is always something to eat ya know.
And they would eat it. But whenever I would try to gently suggest a menu change away from noodles and butter she would always counter with ‘No, they won’t eat anything else but this hyper unhealthy combination of non-nutritious crap that requires a Tolstoy’s War and Peace‘s worth of mods to get the kitchen to make right and would never make it on the menu anyway because it just sounds nasty’. Okay she never actually said that but the quote was modified for editorial purposes.
And yes I did ask about allergies before I fed someone else’s kids strange and exotic food. I may be dumb but I ain’t stupid.
The whole reason this post came about was I was reading a Facebook post by an old friend of mine, Nate, who went off on parents that only feed their kids chicken fingers and ranch dressing and wonder why their ten-year old has back fat. This is a personal pet peeve of mine (even though my only real pet peeve is people with pet peeves:). Me and Mrs. Bear have vowed that our kid will NOT be afraid of new food. We plan on instilling him with an appreciation for all types of cuisine. Sure, an occasional chicken finger might slip through but I’ll be damned if my kid is going to throw a tantrum if he has to eat something other than chicken fingers, ranch and diet coke. There’s too many children that don’t have anything to eat to act like that.
I wonder how Stuffy and her kids are doing. I wonder if they have back fat. Or any fat. Or Diabetes.
And I hope somebody reads to them.
Dignity and Respect
Me, The JerBear