Oh wow. So it takes all kinds to make the world go around we know this. Everyone is crazy, but some people show it more... This man shows it a LOT more. We have a customer, a homeless man I am going to presume by the look (and smell) of him. I have heard stories of him coming in, and the odd special requests but never witnessed it first hand, until Friday night. Get some popcorn this is a doozy!
So I see a man I believe to be the crazy man, walking down the street, and ask my boss for a brief description of said crazy dude. Yup. Pretty sure that is him. I say "I hope he comes in, I want to see this shit first hand." I would later eat those words.
I see him walking up to the door and I run back to tell my boss that I don't want to wait on him... My boss in turn RUNS (he is not the running type mind you) back to the cooler and literally hides. I am the only other person IN the restaurant, and its my JOB to do this so I go out there and witness the madness first hand.
"Can I help you?" I ask. He points up at the pizza boxes and asks what sizes we have. He spoke. He used words. I was told he could not talk but he did talk. Maybe this is a different smelly looking homeless man? I wonder. He then asks about our sandwhiches, and I show him the menu "READ it to me." He speak/grunts. So I read him off the sandwhiches and he orders salami, on white, and a soda... well he doesnt say soda he just shakily POINTS over at the soda cooler and grunts.
I tell him his total and try to get his soda out, as he nearly has a fit with grunts and points and gestures that make NO since to me whatsoever. I then remember the story about the bags hanging on the handle of the coke cooler. He wants them removed BEFORE you open it to take out his soda. He does not say that, just grunts and gestures until I get it. He is still telling me no (in grunts and finger points) about his soda and I realize he has pulled out a 20 and wants to pay first. So I take his twenty and get his change.
handing him a ten he grunts and freaks... Looks in the drawer and grunts FIVES Gimme FIVES so I go to hand him to fives and they, apparently are not good enough he will not take them and grunts and points for a different one. Finally I just get the ENTIRE stack of 5's out going through each one as he grunts with a finger gesturing me not that one. Finally he takes one, and then another, but will not let me hand them to him a certain way... he cannot touch me apparently, which is fine by me. I have to do the same with the ones for him and also for his change (2 dimes and nickle instead of a quarter) Now I can get his coke out and he takes it, again careful not to touch me.
He then points to the printer that has printed his receipt, and pretends to tear nothing while grunting then points to me. "You want me to TEAR UP YOUR RECEIPT?" I ask... Grunts and more gestures of tearing. I do so and then he motions for me to toss it in the trash. I do. He goes outside to glunk his coke down and wait on his sandwhich.
I put the bags back on the handle of the coke cooler and go into the back to give my boss a your a dick look, then laugh a bit and wonder what the hell happened to this poor guy.... You would think the story is over, but its not. If your out of popcorn get some candy and a soda... I'll wait....
So HG (homeless guy) comes back in, for his sandwhich, which comes in a brown paper bag wrapped in foil with a pickle thats in a plastic baggie, a napkin and a bag of potato chips. He gestures to the smallest to go box for salad we have, and grunts pointing to box and then his bag... I know this man can speak so its irritating that he wont at this point. I am glad it was a slow night with nothing else to do. "Do you want your sandwhich in a BOX SIR?" Grunts and gestures mean yes. The smallest one he's pointing to. "Sir your sandwhich will not fit in that smallest of boxes" Grunts and angry gestures about going up a size but he nods that would be okay.
SO I take the bag to the back and I place the items, sandwhich, chips, pickle, napkin into the box close it and bring it to him up front. He gestures and grunts for me to now OPEN the styrofom box. He grunts and points at the chips, I remove them, then grunts and points at the napkin, and pickle, then the foil on the sandcwhich he motions that he wants me to UNWRAP IT... So I do and I let it fall into the box, then he motions that he would like it turned, to fit without overlapping or what not. I explain to him I had just touched money and not washed my hands, and I did not want to touch his sandwhich... He grunted more angrily making gestures for me to arrange his sandwhich, my eyes are stinging at this point from the smell of him, so I touch his sandwhich and make it pretty like in the box.
Now he wants a soda. He sees the bags are back on the handle and trips out again. I remove the bags take his money, a 5, and have to go through countless ones until he finds the one he likes as his change. He actually uses WORDS at one point to argue with me about the price of the soda because earlier when he'd asked me how much they were, I had told him the PREtax price and that was the price he wanted to pay this time :o/ Finally we get through that and I think, Im being smart by NOT printing a recipt. I hand him his coke and he points to the printer and grunts and does it tear it up gesture. "Oh sir, I did not print you a recipt this time!" I smile "PRINT ONE...GRUNNNNNT" He says. So I do and of course I have to tear it up and throw it away. He walks out as if there is hot lava on the ground and only certain tiles will keep him from his death. Goes out front eats his sandwhich and drinks yet another coke.
Meanwhile Brandon comes back from a delivery. He too is now hearing about his man, but has not waited on him and he's looking at us as though WE might be crazy. "Well I wont play his stupid game. Ya'll might but I wont do it" Well when HG came back in for another coke, Dennis and I both ran this time, leaving brandon to deal.... He took the bags off the handle and sorted through change for the guy JUST as we had... Mr. Bad ass what happened? HA!
The HG came back in for one more coke, same story with the bags off the handle, walking as though certain tiles would kill him if stepped on, drank his coke tossed the bottle and then went on his marry way.
It was really sad. The poor man. I mean something is obviously wrong with him. He has not bathed in what smelled like at least 3 months. His hair and beard were all ratted up. A part of him, his eyes, reminded me a little bit of Don. I wonder if HG was/is an alcoholic. I wonder where his family is, friends, where does he sleep and eat on other days? I know I just sat and made fun more or less, but I feel really bad for the guy too. Its sad, but crazy.
So that was my crazy Friday night. Fun times, fun times.
So I see a man I believe to be the crazy man, walking down the street, and ask my boss for a brief description of said crazy dude. Yup. Pretty sure that is him. I say "I hope he comes in, I want to see this shit first hand." I would later eat those words.
I see him walking up to the door and I run back to tell my boss that I don't want to wait on him... My boss in turn RUNS (he is not the running type mind you) back to the cooler and literally hides. I am the only other person IN the restaurant, and its my JOB to do this so I go out there and witness the madness first hand.
"Can I help you?" I ask. He points up at the pizza boxes and asks what sizes we have. He spoke. He used words. I was told he could not talk but he did talk. Maybe this is a different smelly looking homeless man? I wonder. He then asks about our sandwhiches, and I show him the menu "READ it to me." He speak/grunts. So I read him off the sandwhiches and he orders salami, on white, and a soda... well he doesnt say soda he just shakily POINTS over at the soda cooler and grunts.
I tell him his total and try to get his soda out, as he nearly has a fit with grunts and points and gestures that make NO since to me whatsoever. I then remember the story about the bags hanging on the handle of the coke cooler. He wants them removed BEFORE you open it to take out his soda. He does not say that, just grunts and gestures until I get it. He is still telling me no (in grunts and finger points) about his soda and I realize he has pulled out a 20 and wants to pay first. So I take his twenty and get his change.
handing him a ten he grunts and freaks... Looks in the drawer and grunts FIVES Gimme FIVES so I go to hand him to fives and they, apparently are not good enough he will not take them and grunts and points for a different one. Finally I just get the ENTIRE stack of 5's out going through each one as he grunts with a finger gesturing me not that one. Finally he takes one, and then another, but will not let me hand them to him a certain way... he cannot touch me apparently, which is fine by me. I have to do the same with the ones for him and also for his change (2 dimes and nickle instead of a quarter) Now I can get his coke out and he takes it, again careful not to touch me.
He then points to the printer that has printed his receipt, and pretends to tear nothing while grunting then points to me. "You want me to TEAR UP YOUR RECEIPT?" I ask... Grunts and more gestures of tearing. I do so and then he motions for me to toss it in the trash. I do. He goes outside to glunk his coke down and wait on his sandwhich.
I put the bags back on the handle of the coke cooler and go into the back to give my boss a your a dick look, then laugh a bit and wonder what the hell happened to this poor guy.... You would think the story is over, but its not. If your out of popcorn get some candy and a soda... I'll wait....
So HG (homeless guy) comes back in, for his sandwhich, which comes in a brown paper bag wrapped in foil with a pickle thats in a plastic baggie, a napkin and a bag of potato chips. He gestures to the smallest to go box for salad we have, and grunts pointing to box and then his bag... I know this man can speak so its irritating that he wont at this point. I am glad it was a slow night with nothing else to do. "Do you want your sandwhich in a BOX SIR?" Grunts and gestures mean yes. The smallest one he's pointing to. "Sir your sandwhich will not fit in that smallest of boxes" Grunts and angry gestures about going up a size but he nods that would be okay.
SO I take the bag to the back and I place the items, sandwhich, chips, pickle, napkin into the box close it and bring it to him up front. He gestures and grunts for me to now OPEN the styrofom box. He grunts and points at the chips, I remove them, then grunts and points at the napkin, and pickle, then the foil on the sandcwhich he motions that he wants me to UNWRAP IT... So I do and I let it fall into the box, then he motions that he would like it turned, to fit without overlapping or what not. I explain to him I had just touched money and not washed my hands, and I did not want to touch his sandwhich... He grunted more angrily making gestures for me to arrange his sandwhich, my eyes are stinging at this point from the smell of him, so I touch his sandwhich and make it pretty like in the box.
Now he wants a soda. He sees the bags are back on the handle and trips out again. I remove the bags take his money, a 5, and have to go through countless ones until he finds the one he likes as his change. He actually uses WORDS at one point to argue with me about the price of the soda because earlier when he'd asked me how much they were, I had told him the PREtax price and that was the price he wanted to pay this time :o/ Finally we get through that and I think, Im being smart by NOT printing a recipt. I hand him his coke and he points to the printer and grunts and does it tear it up gesture. "Oh sir, I did not print you a recipt this time!" I smile "PRINT ONE...GRUNNNNNT" He says. So I do and of course I have to tear it up and throw it away. He walks out as if there is hot lava on the ground and only certain tiles will keep him from his death. Goes out front eats his sandwhich and drinks yet another coke.
Meanwhile Brandon comes back from a delivery. He too is now hearing about his man, but has not waited on him and he's looking at us as though WE might be crazy. "Well I wont play his stupid game. Ya'll might but I wont do it" Well when HG came back in for another coke, Dennis and I both ran this time, leaving brandon to deal.... He took the bags off the handle and sorted through change for the guy JUST as we had... Mr. Bad ass what happened? HA!
The HG came back in for one more coke, same story with the bags off the handle, walking as though certain tiles would kill him if stepped on, drank his coke tossed the bottle and then went on his marry way.
It was really sad. The poor man. I mean something is obviously wrong with him. He has not bathed in what smelled like at least 3 months. His hair and beard were all ratted up. A part of him, his eyes, reminded me a little bit of Don. I wonder if HG was/is an alcoholic. I wonder where his family is, friends, where does he sleep and eat on other days? I know I just sat and made fun more or less, but I feel really bad for the guy too. Its sad, but crazy.
So that was my crazy Friday night. Fun times, fun times.
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