Some Southern Charm

I have been told not to say "y'all" at work anymore. If you live in the south, I ask you to try to remove this word from your vocabulary for an hour. It's impossible. I have grown up saying "y'all" and asking me to stop is incredibly hard. The reasoning behind this is because I "don't work at a honkey-tonk." Well, that was a little offensive. I was even more appalled when they told me what word I could use instead. "Folks." "Hi folks, how are you?' Doesn't that sound a little bit red neck?? The reasoning behind this is that we are supposed to use only gender neutral terms. Apparently, "Hey guys" is insulting because it insinuates that we are catering to a male crowd. Who knows. Regardless, I am not cutting y'all out of my vocabulary even though it appears that some customers don't understand it.

It seems that my combination of a southern accent and the fact that I am a fast talker makes it difficult for the customers to understand me. Don't ask me how many times I have been asked to repeat something, and don't even get me on the phone. It is a recipe for disaster since the caller can't attempt to read my lips. I asked a gentleman if I could get "all y'all's" plates out of the way the other evening. He was sitting by himself at the table, but had several children that were running around the restaurant and clearly done eating. He asked me who exactly I was addressing when I said, "All y'all." I tried to explain but eventually just gave up and cleared the plates.

Finally, a little anecdote. Sorry I write about this restaurant so much, but let's face it, that's all I do. Anyway, I worked my first Friday night shift a few days ago. I was doing well, holding my own, until I decided to venture outside my section and "help" my fellow servers. There were multiple drinks up at the bar, so I grabbed a tray and headed towards a table of about 6 kids and 4 moms. The moms were partaking in a little alcoholic stress relief while the children ran rampant. As I got to the table, one of the moms distracted me by commenting on my engagement ring. As I began to talk about the engagement, I slowly forgot that I had a tray full of drinks in my other hand. Then I realized there was an odd wailing sound coming from the ground. I looked under the table and noticed that I was stepping on a small child. I don't know why she was sitting on the ground and not her seat, but that threw me over the edge. I started to apologize for stepping on the kid and watched in slow motion as a Bud Light fell off the tray onto the child. I apologized profusely and then ran away. (Remember - this wasn't even my table!)

Later I looked over and the child had no shirt on while she ran around with her buddies. The mom ended up buying a t-shirt from our establishment to keep her child from being naked. I didn't really say anything until the end of the night when I asked the table's server how they had tipped. He said he did well, so I felt it ok to confess my small act of clumsiness. As one of my friends stated, at least it wasn't red wine!!