Not It, but, it Depends

OK.  After calling "NOT IT" last night for tonight I went to work all smug and snarky.  I looked at my set up number and being number 2, that means, I am in charge of the seating chart.  That means I can assign tables to whomever I want and I can either marter myself or not.  Usually I play fair but tonight I knew I was not going to wait on the family with the baby.  I left out much of the story from last night and now wish I would have gone into detail. 
Read on and all I have to say is, enough said. 
I started vacuuming the dining room and checking tables for the correct settings.  I was about 45 minutes early which I like because I can get a jump start on the night and be all set up and ready to go.  I'm weird that way.  I'm annoyingly early for stuff. 
I walked out of the kitchen and here she comes around the corner.  Nana.  Now, Nana is a pretty women, nice and sweet, but a little off.  She has this waste basket in her hands and comes up to me while holding the "waste" out to me and says,
"I don't know what to do with this.  As you can see it's very full because my husband wears depends and of course my grandson is in diapers."  
She hands me the 30lb "waste" basket, which is lined with a plastic bag but the plastic bag isn't tied up all nice a few times.   Nope, it was wide open with the stench of her husbands depends and baby grandson's diapers for everyone to smell. 
Lucky me for being there early.  I walked to the dumpster with her "waste" basket and dumped it in the dumpster and relined it and brought it up to her room and rather then knock on her door I just left in out in the hall.  I certainly didn't want to hand that back to her husband and act all polite-like. 
I immediately went and scrubbed my hands all the way up to my shoulders like an ER doctor and followed that by a good dousing of hand sanitiser which was now hand, arm, body sanitizer. 
I have seen it all now. 
Being in the restaurant business sure does have it's downs and downs.  Ooops, I mean ups and downs.

A few hours later I'm waiting on a couple from Florida.  They order a $300 bottle of wine and can't say enough about the ambiance and food and, of course, the service.  They left me a $100 tip.
I'll deal with the "shit" for that.  And we do, too. 
What a weird night.