montage

So I have to say, the assignment give in class today seemed pretty difficult for most of us. Though most of the ones read aloud seemed decent. I struggled with my quote "If a man doesn't stand for something, he'll fall for anything." It wasn't until after class that I realized what I wrote wasn't that bad. It actually led me to some ideas for the composition conference; I'm really excited about it!

I, also, started working on the next assignment, and the first part of my montage came with ease. It was amazing. But I am sure that the same thing will happen with some of you. A new style of writing will be easier to adapt to when you can work your interests into it.

Labor issues are the generic social concern I have this semester. I've decided to write this last assignment as a montage of a typical shift in my restaurant. Hopefully, it shows the kind of work we do, and the types of guests we serve. And the tables that make or break our day, as tips go. Below is the first part. See what you think...

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“Yes, sir. The wait will be about an hour…OK, what is your name? OK. It could be ready sooner. We’ll give you a call on your cell phone.”
An hour for a table. Huh. This place better be good.
*
“I’m here, I’m here,” I say, hurrying past the line of early bird guests and past the hostess desk. Ugh. Early bird. Cheap, sometimes even free, three course meals for guests who have all day to waste away their money in a slot machine, and yet they don’t have the 10-20 percent tip on what they would have paid, if not for that damn coupon.
*
“Can we sit at a different table? These chairs are too low. I mean, I’d need a booster. Hahahahaha.”
*
Oh sure, sit where ever you like. What’s the fuckin’ point of us having a hostess, or having sections?! “Anna, I’m sorry. They wanted to move. Can you get to them?”
*
“No, I’ll just have ice water with lemon. Can I also have some Sweet and Low? Oh, and they said we should show these tickets to you.”
*
“Mike! What the hell?! You spilled cab on me! UGH! I need another one. In a clean glass.” God, this is not my fuckin’ night. Ketchup. Iced tea. Now red wine. What’s the point of having this awful uniform laundered anyway? I used to think it was flattering. The apron is the worst thing about it. Used to be bright white, now stained by coffee grounds and open pens. It just doesn’t stay put around my waist, so uncomfortable.
*
“Do you have bread or rolls or something? Do you have olive oil?”
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“Well, I am glad you enjoyed everything. Come see us again…Thank you and good luck!”
I wonder how they tipped me… Damn it! Blue card. Wish I could shout that awesome “Waiting” line… “Here! I think you need this more than I do!”
*

Feedback is welcome!