last night at work

Holy freaking crap, you guys, so last night at work there was this massive thunder and rain storm, one of those crazy ones where the sun is still out and unobscured except by the sheets upon sheets of rain. The tables in my section were mostly outside so I didn't have much to do for a while. Eventually the rain let up and I got some action and all was well.

And then walked in two gentlemen who looked forlornly around the restaurant, as customers often do when the hostess is occupied. I'm normally a good little team player, but I must confess that the only reason I ran over to them immediately is because one of the dudes was one of the frontmen of Broken Social Scene, a band that you may have heard me mention once or twice, and the other was one of the most attractive (to me, anyway) men I have ever seen in my entire life. They said, "There must be a long wait for six right now, huh?" and I said, "Yeah, but the hostess knows for sure, let me go ask her," and OOTMA(TM,A)MIHESIMEL said, "Don't worry, we'll talk to her," and ever so gently--lovingly, I like to imagine--patted me on the back as I ran off to do something or other.

Once something or other was over I noticed them standing outside, near my tables, doing some texting. I couldn't wait any longer. "Are you, um, in a band?" I asked the guy in the band who I knew was in the band but because I'd thought about it too much wasn't entirely sure of anymore. "Yes," he said. "You'reinBrokenSocialSceneohmygodyou'relikeoneofmyfavoritebands. ImeanlikefavoritebandsEVER. Didn'tyoujustplaysomelittleshowlastnightinBrooklyn? I'mcomingtoseeyounextThursdayinProspectPark!" Despite my extreme geekdom, we managed to have a nice little conversation about those darn expensive ticket prices and the first time I saw them play (an intimate $2 show at NYU) and how they'd just played Letterman, and they both introduced themselves as Brendan the musician and Brendan the manager, and then they said I should watch the Letterman show if I was home by 11, and I said, "Ha, I'll be lucky if I'm out of here by 2!"

Actually, no, I only said that when I imagined the conversation in my head later and I'd acted cool. Instead I smiled sheepishly and ran off to attend to my 7-top reservation for the first time since they'd sat 20 minutes prior. Once I'd translated the menu, the guys were gone, and I retreated to the downstairs bathroom to pee for a good five minutes straight. All I wanted at that moment was to give the sweet Canadians anything they wanted, but in retrospect it was probably good they didn't get their table with, presumably, more band members, as I was pretty much useless for the next hour as it was.

My job is turning me into a bipolar alcoholic with serious back problems but my god is it cool sometimes.