No Coffee For You!!

 I  















I have been to many functions throughout the years such as weddings, engagement and anniversary parties, bar mitzvahs and bat mitzvahs. And I am not a demanding guest, in fact quite the opposite. Once at a wedding a waitress served me coffee in a milk pitcher and when I complained it was cold she told me she just brought it from the kitchen so it should be hot. It was either her first time working at a venue or she never drinks coffee. But she was polite and unpretentious when she told me this so I left the cold coffee untouched and did not complain to our friends who made the wedding for their daughter.
I also know what goes into planning a wedding. It's not easy finding the venue, organizing the flowers, the cake, a photographer, music and the caterer. I know this since my daughter just got married last year.
So now I am at a wedding and the venue is lovely. The ceremony is taking place outside.
There is a lovely rock garden with a creek running through. The day is warm and sunny,
​a prefect day for a wedding. Inside is just as nice with large old fashion chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, bright colourful flowers on the tables and the bride and groom sitting at the head table happy to begin a new life together. The band is amazing only playing in between meals so we can talk among ourselves. My husband and I are sitting beside a woman named Barbara and her husband. They are  a nice couple to chat with. The food is great, the music contagious and everyone is dancing the night away.
Then comes the coffee.
The waitress is around 30, with a long dark ponytail that sways with her movements. She asks if Barbara and I would like some coffee.  We are the only ones sitting on our side of the table, our husbands have disappeared. I am happy because the dessert has just arrived. She pours the coffee for me but she has run out and it only reaches the halfway mark. 
"I'll come back and refill it," she says to me. And off she goes with her ponytail swinging behind her. I put the saucer over the cup to keep it warm because I love my coffee hot. She comes back five minutes later and starts to pour coffee for Barbara.
"I thought you were going to refill mine," I say nonplussed.
"You already have your coffee."
"But you told me you were going to come back and refill it because you ran out of coffee and it is only filled halfway."
"I have never been at this table before." 
I glance over at Barbara and her mouth is open listening to our confrontation. "But you were just here."
"I told you I have never seen you before!" She says glaring at me as if I did the unspeakable—ask for more coffee.
"Well then can you just fill up my cup for me?"
"No, you're going to have to wait like everyone else." Then she proceeds to pour Barbara her coffee and off she goes to another table her ponytail bouncing behind her. I wonder if she would act the same way if our husbands were with us. Would she refuse to do so then?
But we are alone in this or should I say I am alone in this.
"Can you believe this?" I say dumbfounded to Barbara not quite believing what just happened.
"I felt so sorry for you," Barbara says. 
"Was she not the same waitress that was here before?"
"Yes I believe she was."
"I think I should report her." 
"Why don't you just let it go," Barbara says kindly.
     I think of 90 Days fiance, a reality TV series on TLC. Alexi is an Israeli who meets Loren, an american girl in Israel. They have to decide in 90 days if they want to get married and live in the states. He is angry at his fiancee's best friend because she organized a male stripper bachelorette party when he told her not to have strippers. She dismissed his request so he does not want her at the wedding.
He looks into the camera and tells his audience that his fiancee keeps telling him to get over it and move on. "But I can't," he says, "Loren always tells me to get over things and move on but I cannot get over things and move on because this is not my nature. I cannot get over things." He does not want her best friend at the wedding.  
And I am like that too! I cannot get over things and this is one thing I cannot get over.
     I get up from the table and walk to the bar and ask the bartender for the catering manager. He goes and gets her right away. I explain to her what has happened with the waitress. "I have never had anyone talk to me that way especially at a wedding," I say. The manager apologizes. Since the bar is right next to the kitchen I see the swinging doors open and out walks the mean waitress with the ponytail with none other than a cup of coffee in her hand.
"That's her!" I yell pointing at her. The coffee spills a bit when she sees me. She mutters something to herself and goes back into the kitchen, clearly rattled. Did she honestly think I would not report her? Would anyone not do so for that matter now that I think of it?
"I will speak to her," the manager says.
"Could I also have another cup of coffee please?"
"Of course, I'll bring it to your table." I thank her and leave.
     The coffee is brought to me shortly after by the manager and I thank her. I drink it and glance around the room. After a while I notice that a waiter has come to the table and pours a cup of coffee for a man across from me. The waiter leaves immediately not even giving me a glance. I look over at another table and I see a waitress staring back at me and I wonder if they know what has happened and are sympathetic to their workmate. Perhaps I am being blacklisted or blackballed. Or maybe I am just getting paranoid. But the affair is almost over and I have had a great time despite the coffee incident.
Nevertheless I look for the waitress with the ponytail to confront her again. I want to tell her how mean she was to me and that if she just filled up my cup the situation would have been resolved in two seconds flat. But she is nowhere to be found.
     As we leave I see an acquaintance of ours at the front entrance about to press his Uber app on his phone so we offer him a lift. In the car we start talking about the wedding and he  says that he waited a long time for his meal. So I tell  him and my spouse my coffee story.
"Yeah," he says. "A waiter with a coffee pot came by asking if I would like some coffee. I said I would if I had a coffee cup since there were none on the table. He comes back later with a coffee cup and only pours me half. I asked him if he could fill it to the top."
"Did he do it for you?" I ask gleefully, realizing now that perhaps I was being paranoid and that the coffee may have been in short supply.
"Yeah he did." He says. Our friend though is a big guy and he looks tough even though he isn't so I don't know if that counts. No one wants a black eye when alcohol is running rampant.
"Oh did you notice the permit on the building for permission to rebuild, probably another condo. The venue may be gone soon," he says.
        The next day I am contemplating whether to complain to the catering company which is the same name as the restaurant which will most likely be replaced by a condo. Could that be why the service was bad? Their jobs uncertain so why care? Nevertheless I still envision the waitress's eyes that were wide filled with anger as I google the caterer's phone number and debate about dialing.  Should I? Is it worth it?
And then I think of Alexi saying, "I just can't get over it!" 

         
    
       


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