What Are You Staring At?

So my seventy year old mother-in-law, my then three year old nephew, and I were having lunch at the local Restaurant where young women dressed in barely anything delivered our food…..and how did that happen you wonder? Well, I will tell you.

I had taken my nephew to the airport to pick up my mother-in-law (from now on that will be MIL). We  got there shortly before her arrival time and waited on the roof of the parking garage, me thinking the young man would be fascinated by the planes taking off and landing and he was for about a minute.  Then he returned to being fascinated by all the cars and trucks on the roof of the parking building, which worked out fine. We walked around and looked at them. It wasn’t a hot day but it was warm and I was sufficiently tired by the time we met said MIL when she got off the plane and to the elevator.

There were happy greetings and hugs and then everyone got in the car and buckled in. I drove us home and on the way MIL asked if we’d  had lunch yet. I asked if she was hungry and she said yes, so she suggested stopping at  THE restaurant for lunch as we approached it.

I had never eaten there as it just was not my thing. However, it was on the way to my house. I was tired. I didn’t care if we ate there and I knew she, my nephew, and his parents ate there sometimes. So, what the hell.

Well, I had not planned to stop anywhere so I was wearing one of my “I don’t give a shit” outfits. I have a few of those. It takes casual to a whole new level. It’s just shorts and a t shirt, but black and oh, so casual.  I realized I was wearing this when I noticed a man, probably thirtyish, sitting at a table with friends, who was just staring at me. Having a bit of an attitude (no, not me) at times, I stared back. These were my thoughts on this issues. First amusement, because, hello, me fifties, my MIL, seventy, and the three year old boy were having having lunch in this restaurant with all the pretty women serving us food. It was just FUCKING funny and I like to be amused.

I think the guy was trying to figure it out. A moment of staring, okay, I would have been okay with that, but either he was stupid or just annoying, and it went on a while, so I stared back until he stopped.

Granted I was staring at the young waitresses breasts and ass almost as much as my nephew was. With the way I was dressed and that short haircut, maybe he was trying to decide if I was gay. And if I was, so what? I was a paying customer. Although, I was staring because those uniforms were FUCKING tiny. I was amazed. AMAZED I tell you. Those shorts were barely there. My nephew seemed equally impressed.

And the girls were young, eighteen, nineteen. My God, I didn’t feel that young at that age, but they were. They just didn’t know it. And I would not have chosen to wear that uniform or work in that restaurant at that age, but I got it. The tips must be great. And the young women were really nice, polite and very sweet to my nephew. That worked for me. Everyone makes their own life choices. 

So my MIL had a lovely salad. I had a hamburger or something, and my nephew had some chicken nuggets and we struggled to keep him in his seat  long enough for him to eat something.  He has a lot of energy….A LOT of energy, so he is a normal child. It was pretty fun and funny and I got a few bites of my food before we had to go but I took the food with me to finish at home. Adventures in eating. Fun stuff. Plus we confused the hell out of some random guy. A good day.

 

 

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About jambiethoughts

My name is Jamie W. Bryant,. Sometimes I drop the W. I am a currently a 55 year old woman with a serious sense of whimsy. I was having a hard time describing myself but when a friend said everyone wanted to be a princess, men and women, I said to call me a Queen, Warrior Queen. I think Whimsical Happy sometimes Silly Warrior Queen Who Takes No Shit But Is Really Kind and loves to have fun but is really responsible might do it. It is long, however I have never been good at editing myself, in SO MANY WAYS, so there is that. If you still have no idea who I am, well, read my blog and try to figure it out. I can be serious. I can be silly. I love to make myself and others laugh. I speak real shit. I believe everyone should be treated with respect, and I will if you will. I calls them as I sees them. I sometimes swear. Gasp! I do not swear when I am in the presence of children, but this blog is for grown ups. You have been warned.
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One Response to What Are You Staring At?

  1. thehouseai says:

    One of my earlier jobs in college, and just after, was a waitress at a steak chain, a nice one, that celebrated Elizabethan decor. The hostesses wore long skirts, but the bussers, waitresses, and cocktail servers all wore a white, loose mid-lenth sleeve shirt, form fitting, with a very low neckline, with a tie on it. Our skirt was a combo waist lace up thing and very short plaid skirt. I didn’t mind wearing it, since nobody talked about rights back then, and I was too dumb to wear a push-up bra, or anything. And I stopped doing cocktails after threading myself through the tables and getting hands up my skirt.

    We used to have these large booths that were in the room they left open last. They sat 6, and young guys liked to come in and order, and force us to lean across the length of the table to serve the guys against the wall at the back. And it was a real booth – walls. But the guy servers there were great, and if they could, they’d take those booths if guys came in. Back then, nobody really thought seriously of harassment, etc. It just was what it was. And my first thought wsa to just remove myself, like the cocktail thing. How times changed. I watched an undercover boss on one of those restaurants, and I did have a hard time listening to him talking about respect, and being appropriate, but thinking nothing of asking them to wear those outfits. Ours were far less revealing. We wore black tights under our plaid skirts, and they were full. But I still preferrred hostessing. But I can see you guys there. The age differences. Made me laugh.

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