Welcome to Dripping with Cheese! I graduated college, magna cum laude, in 2007, worked for two years, and then found my butt unemployed a few months ago. My husband has been my suga daddy ever since. Feeling increasingly guilty and increasingly desperate, I finally landed a waitressing gig. Unless you’re generous and count that four-month stint I did at Dunkin Donuts the summer before college, I have never waitressed a day in my life. This place is a new restaurant and we open next week. (Though you may possibly have heard of the chain… oh, I mean concept. My bad. I’m also still working out remember to call my paying customers my guests–what sort of horrible host charges her guests for bland food and even blander atmosphere, anyway? Basically, I work for the Wal-Mart of the casual dining world. All that good I’ve been trying to do for the world since graduating college in about to be canceled out in a big, artery-clogging, mom and pop decimating way.) I’ve been in training for two days now. Three more to go. Oh goody!
The day I accepted the job, I knew that the only way I could stay sane throughout it was by having an outlet for the ridiculousness. (My mother and husband also risk insanity unless I have a better venting target than just them every day.) In an effort to maintain some kind of anonymity and to hopefully avoid being dooce-ed, I’m doing this all incognito style. I’m embracing it as a chance to channel my inner bad-ass sarcastic bitch self. My family and friends are all given pseudonyms (if you want to specify what you’d like to be referred to as, email me!) and I am eagerly looking forward to giving all of my coworkers witty (and sometimes cutting) nicknames as situations and personalities merit.
Why Dripping with Cheese? One of super-extra fun parts of being in server training is that we get to practice up-selling anything and everything. (Seriously; we will even sell you the salt and pepper shakers if you ask. I should just be glad I’m not required to pimp them too.) We’ve even been provided with a cheat sheet of words that we can use to paint a picture for our targets guests. Such words include, but are not limited to:
- famous (ego much?)
- sinfully sweet
- good (how boring!)
- interesting (this is what you use for that entrée that makes all the line cooks a little queasy even as they prepare it, I suppose…)
- velvet/y, moist
- with a hint of… (I like to finish it with “insanity” in my head. I need to watch it or one of these days I’ll say it aloud.)
- and my favorite…. dripping with cheese.
I am apparently not the only one who loves the thought of all my food dripping with cheese. We are required to hold our victims guests hostage as we extol the many virtues of our formidable menu at at least four points throughout their “dining experience.” We’re also required to hone our craft in front of each other. So during lunch yesterday one poor soul was coerced into describing the chicken marsala we’d just been fed. She threw herself into a long list of adjectives with gusto, describing the dish as being delicious, amazing, her favorite, and (my favorite!) dripping with cheese. There is no cheese in chicken marsala, let alone cheese so moist and abundant that it leaks. Inside my head, I started to laugh so hard that I cried (again, in my head). Recounting the story to my husband yesterday evening, I realized that this was the name of my blog. I’d waffled on creating the blog, as I didn’t know what it should be called. But there the name was, staring me in the face. A blog was born; my virtual baby.
All because of Cheese Girl.