ed_rex

Dear Waiters and Waitresses of Toronto,

The next time you saunter out to the patio to check on your patrons, don't just stop at the table nearest the door and agree to bring them their bill. Only 2 strides away sits a Young Geoffrey eager to order yet another pint, his current glass as dry as a Saharan oasia on the edge of an oil field during a drought - sucked dry by Man, starved by Nature.

Please ...

Don't just turn around and trace your steps back to the bar at the dank, Stygian depths of your establishment; don't stuff your ears with erzatz cotton while I wave and cry out, "Excuse me!" in the throws of my desparate alcoholism.

Instead, do expend the calories needed to fire the muscles in your neck and do turn your torso towards me; note said waving arm and desperate words; approach my table and acknowledge my order.

It's not that hard.

In fact, it's easier.

Easier for you, because, instead of taking one order at one time, you can take two (and - who knows? - maybe three).

Easier for me, because I needn't extricate myself from my seat and stagger after you into the darkness, gritting my teeth as I try to (politely) request another pint, then waste my time penning neurotic posts such as this one.

A happier customer means a happier server means a better world for us all (except, possibly, for those physicians who concentrate on soothing the acid indigestion of bitter Young Geoffreys such as myself).

And while I'm at it ...

Dear Fellow Cyclists,

If you are too gutless to brave the traffic, hail a cab, take the streetcar or use your legs. Leave the sidewalks to the pedestrians.

Love,

Young Geoffrey