Hello, Hello, Can You Hear Me Now?

                      Today was a pretty boring Wednesday.  The only thing that was happening was the stupid Antique Telephone Club that has a standing reservation for our party/meeting room every single fucking Wednesday.  I don't understand what they could possibly have to meet about every god damned week.  They start calling as soon as we open to place their food orders for dine-in, all separately.  They order plenty of salads and apps., that I have to hurry and get made before they arrive at 12pm.  Once they arrive, I have to try to get everyone's drink order while they all chat and laugh it up, completely ignoring me the entire time.  They are all standing and moving around the room the whole time, so it's hard to tell if I've missed some one or not.  If I accidentally do miss someone, because they were too busy jacking their jaws and didn't hear me the 5 times I asked if I had gotten everyone's drink order, they act like it's my fault.  When I come back to the meeting/party room with everyone else's drinks, there's always at least one deaf idiot that bombards me.  "Well, where's my drink?  You got everyone else's drink.  Why didn't you get mine?  I need a diet Coke!  I'm so thirsty!  I can't believe YOU forgot MY drink when you got everyone else's!"  Well, shitbird, had you not been too busy yucking it up with Mr. Asswipe over there to bother yourself with my silly questions, then you would have your fucking diet Coke.  So, after I get the first round of drinks, I have to go get a second round for the one's who don't listen, and then possibly a third for the people who can't show up on time.  Once everyone finally has their drinks, I let them know that I'm going to go get their food on trays, so I'll be right back with it.  At this point, as I'm walking out of the room, someone yells out at me, "Excuse me, but I didn't know we had to place our orders ahead of time, can I give you my order now?"  And sometimes one or two more pops their heads out of their asses also, and lets me know they need to order too.  Seriously, you all do this shit every week, even though I don't understand what's so pressing about antique phones that they need a weekly meeting to discuss it.  How in the fuck do you not know by now that the rest of the club orders ahead of time?  I turn around and get the orders of the people that didn't know, after two years of weekly meetings, the rest of the club orders ahead of time.  I put the late bloomers orders in the computer.  I then go ahead and take out the people's food who were smart enough to have phoned it in.  Of course, there's always unclaimed food, because their too busy talking about the 1940's rotary wall phone they just bought, or whatever it is they talk about, to listen to me asking who's food I had in my hands.  I just sit the unclaimed food down on a table to the side and move on to the next dish.  I know as soon as I get everything else passed out and start to walk out of the room, there will be at least 2-3 people yelling at me that I forgot their food.  By that time, everyone has already sucked down every last drop of their sodas and stored it in their humps, just in case, so I have to get all 30-40 of them a refill.  After everyone has a fresh, full drink in their hand, it's time to take out the imbecile's food.  Then refills, again.  Then refills, again.  By now, everyone has gorged themselves, so they're ready for their 30-40 separate checks all at once.  Let me remind you that they mostly all ordered their food, sans drink, ahead of time.  They waited to order their drinks when they got there, and since I can't put a face to a voice on the phone, it's hard to put the right food with the right drink.  If they all just got fountain sodas, it wouldn't be a big deal because all fountain sodas cost the same, but they don't, of course.  Some get fountain soda, some get tap water, some get bottled water, some get tea, and some get lemonade, all of which has different prices. So, I decided that I would just leave it all on one bill.  That way, when they come up front to pay, they could just tell me what they had to eat and drink.  I could split it off of the bill right there, tell them the price, take the payment, give them a receipt, tell them to have a nice day, and they could get the fuck out of my face. On to the next person.  Wash, rinse, repeat.   Sounds fairly simple right?  I thought so too, but then we would both be wrong.  As it turns out, a lot of people don't remember what they crammed into their pie hole.  It's not like I just went ahead and brought them out whatever the fuck I felt like taking to them.  If that was the case, they'd be sitting back there talking about old phones with a whole lot of air and nothing else in front of them.  They had to ask me for what they wanted.  They ordered it themselves, then ate every last bite.  So, how is it that 30 minutes later you can't remember what you ordered?  Describe it to me?  Paint me a fucking picture?  Anything?  Obviously these people have nothing but rotary dials, busy signals, and cow excrement between their ears.