Timothy Bukumunhe : Will Waitresses Ever Grasp The Concept Of Multi-tasking?

Not that it was busy and there were a stream of customers that Waitress had to attend to. In fact, the kafunda was so docile save for next door, where a group of grown men – yes, a group of grown men who were on the verge of pummeling themselves over a game of ludo. From what I could make out, the guy with arms as big as a gym had cheated and the boda guys were not happy at being fleeced out of the 2k they staked as a bet. Cutting the tale short, shirts got ripped, there was some grappling and rolling about in the dust and the foam (wooden bench) was broken.

Despite the mayhem on her doorstep, Waitress hardly budged. She had her head flopped on the bar while twirling an opener in one hand with her eyes flickering between what was showing on TV and we taking our seats outside.

I don’t know what she was thinking, but if I was to hazard a guess, she was most probably hoping that we were not customers but people resting a while. So she firmly glued herself back to the television which of course, necessitated Danny having to go over to her to get service. Danny could have made life easy for her and ordered at the bar, brought over the beers, opener and glasses himself but thought the better of it. Instead, he told her to come take our orders.

In our seats, we watched as in slow motion, she scraped her head off the counter, straightened herself and in the process got distracted by Waitress From Next Door who, was asking for an opinion on a bag that Hawker was trying to flog her. This went on for a while. In the meantime, we were waiting and so was Hawker too next door. Eventually, they got done but after taking a couple of selfies.

When Waitress looked down at us, we could almost see her brain trying to flicker on – almost in the same manner and style a fluorescent light flickers into life when switched on. Except of course, when her brain flickered on, there was no Eureka (!) moment because she couldn’t quite remember if she had tended to us or not. Then it hit her she hadn’t.

She sashayed herself over to the table without a care in the world and when she arrived three hours later, she stood there all mute. She looked at us and we stared back at her - waiting for her to break the silence with something along the lines of Plan A: “Good afternoon” which of course, was wishful thinking and not forth coming. Plan B of: “What can I get you” didn’t materialize either so we just blurted it out for her – one Club, one Castle Lite, cold and with glasses.

I don’t think she liked the tone I used when making the order for she sort of sneered as she set off on yet another three hour hike back to the bar where once again, she got distracted by Waitress From Next Door.

When she eventually got her act together, she returned with a Club and Tusker Lite – the wrong order. Rather than leave the Club at table because we knew what was going to happen next, she took booth beers back and as expected, returned with a Tusker Lite and Castle Lite.

The Tusker Lite had to go back and exchanged for a Club. But, she had to take it back once again because she’d presented a warm one instead of a cold one. After some effort we both had cold beers. But she forgot the opener so she went back. There is more. We didn’t have glasses so once again, she had to go back for them.