3:21 P.M.
Mr. Francey Pants called this morning to tell me that they've added me to the schedule for tomorrow evening. I really have NO choice in this matter.
It's not like they called and said, "Ummmmmmmmmmmmm, (Long French man pause), Kelleeeeeeeeeeeee, (Long French man pause), Will you please for me,(Long French Man pause), work the party tomorrow night up stairs?"
They do so well at mixing and matching the English language.
(Not so much....)
It's almost as if they try to learn how to speak the English language by watching Bush give his speeches on CNN.
I didn't attend the last employee meeting, but I was told that Mr. Francey Pants tried to use the word STRATEGERY in his speech....
(STRATEGERY IS NOT A WORD DAMMIT!)(Well, maybe it's a word on planet BUSH)
They don't care to speak correctly, just as long as we can reach some sort of an understanding.
Just forget trying to have a conversation with "Captain Franco American", or his side kick, "Francey Pants". A conversation with them is like watching a bad game of scrabble!
You want to chime in and tell them that what ever they just TRIED to say doesn't make a lick of sense.
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After listening to the message on my machine a few times over, I've come to one conclusion.
It appears as if the French men want BJ and I to serve a party up stairs. What fun!
********
There's nothing like watching two chickens with their heads cut off trying to run a party.
I'm not looking forward to it.
Last night I had a private party and did pretty well, but those people were warned ahead of time that I might be slow at processing separate checks.
*****
Well, I guess I'd better get ready for work.
We are short servers again.
Wish me luck!
