We Need To Talk

No, this is not looking back at that time when your ex-girlfriend said this moments before she crushed your soul.

I want to talk about another epidemic that borders on psychopathy.  I am talking about people who drink Diet Coke.  They are insatiable, persistent, and possibly clinically insane.

As a restaurant server, there are plenty of stereotypes that exist for one reason or another, but this is one that has always befuddled me.  It is almost as if the chemicals in Diet Coke change a person’s brain function.  Here is a typical interaction:

Me: (Addressing the table and turning to seat 1…) Hi, my name is Mi—
Seat 3: Diet Coke!
Me: Alright. (as I type the drink in on my tablet…  *btw, we fancy at our restaurant* )  My name is Michael.  Would anyone else like something to drink?
 Seats 1,2,4: Coffee, water, Coffee AND water, etc.
Me: Great!  (tells daily specials before I leave.)
**I go make the drinks and return to the table.  Drinks meet the appropriate guests and straws are placed on table.  I turn to address Seat 1 to ask about their food order—
Seat 3: (Apparently trying to suck the ice cubes through the straw…) Can I get some more Diet Coke? (Rattles empty glass in the air at me.)
Me: (Trying to suppress the urge to punch them violently in the throat because I have not even left the table yet.) Yes, of course.
**I get the food orders for Seats 1-2.  Turn to Seat 3, shoving down the impending personal rage for what I know is about to happen.
Me: And for you?
Seat 3: Oh, let me see…I’m just not sure.  There’s just so much on the menu!  (10 seconds of staring uncomfortably at the guest pass. Slowly.) Can you skip me and get the next person?
**Gets Seat 4 order in 0.3 seconds because they are a normal human who understands how restaurants work.  Returns to Seat 3.
Me: (way too chipper and smiling) Made any decisions yet? (knowing full well this psychopath will not have a clue about food for 5 more minutes because their brain is too low on vitamin DC, having gone longer than 30 seconds without a fix.)
Seat 3: I’m just not sure.  Can you go get me some more Diet Coke and I’ll try to have an answer by the time you get back?
Me: (Internally: NOOOO, YOU CRACKHEAD!  THAT IS NOT HOW THIS WORKS!!!) Yes, of course I can.
**Meanwhile, I two more tables have arrived in my section and they all deserve the proper attention expected for our guests, but I am now held hostage in server limbo due to this crazy person.  So, another small layer of stress is building within me because now I have to rush this refill of crack soda for this person and still get a food order, all while my other two unsuspecting tables perceive that they are now waiting on me.  It is the restaurant equivalent of someone blocking both lanes of traffic while trying to make a left turn at a busy intersection that is clearly marked “No Left Turn.”

Now, there are plenty of things that happen in the restaurant environment that may annoy most people, but I have done this for a long time and most of those things are lost on me now.  The restaurant industry is definitely not for everyone.  I have seen hundreds of servers come and go for one reason or another.  After all these years, the Diet Coke drinker, however, is a constant thing that seems to eat at my soul whenever it happens.  It is odd.  You immediately know that you will refill that empty, rattling glass at least fifteen times in the next twenty minutes while the coffee drinking friends at the table, who are more commonly considered the caffeine addicts in society, may need two or three refills for the duration of the meal, and that will slow down every other guest interaction and server responsibility you may have for the next hour.  The only answer is to bring a new Diet Coke any time you are returning to anywhere near that table to pre-empt the crazy sitting there.

I know it may seem small, and yes, it is part of the job.  It is a phenomenon that I cannot explain and it perplexes me every time it happens.  I simply ask that if you see your friends do this, help them seek treatment or keep them at arm’s length in your life because they may be hiding bodies under their houses or in their back yards