My road to Damascus moment

Today was the dullest day I've endured in years.

I was off work.

I was free and easy. The world, or the bit of it within a ten buck taxi fare, was at my fingertips but yet I did nothing.

I spoke to no one save for a few grunted words with The Cousin re his passable bacon rolls at breakfast.

Today was tedious. Nothing happened. Nothing happened at all. I mean that would be fine if I was Jerry Seinfeld or Larry David, they made their millions by doing nothing and writing about it. I need shits and giggles to put the spark into my day. But I had neither shits nor giggles.

I do detest wasted days off.

I need a reinvention. I need something more to do with my time off. The hours wasted enjoyed playing mind numbingly repetitive games on the iPad is time I cannot afford to lose, not at the delicately poised age of 39. I mean waiters don't go on forever.

And what of my legacy?

What will people say of me after my face-down-soup-death? Will they say, 'Ach he was a grand lad?' Will they remember me fondly? Will they fuck. Well not if I have anything to do with it.

People remember the kind and congenial for a wee while but they remember the sadistic and cruel and down right shitty for eons. And that, to be fair, is what I want - to be remembered for eons. I mean we all know about and remember fondly Genghis Khan. Okay he was a murderous bastard but we laugh and joke about him now. Well I do. But my point is I am sure for every Genghis Khan there has been in history there have been thousands of super lovely wonderful folk but can you name one?

You can't.

You can only remember histories biggest bastards.

From Hitler to Stalin. From Richard Nixon to Ming the Merciless. From Bin Laden to Sandler. We always remember the biggest bastards.

So I have decided that's what I must become, the biggest bastard in table waiting.

Some would claim I'm there already but they don't know, not really.

Obviously to become the biggest bastard in table waiting I must look to the current occupant of that lofty position. Luckily enough for me Edsel Ford Fong is, as they say round here, tatty bread. But despite him being dead he still holds the title of the rudest waiter in the world. Now there's a trick. I mean holding on to your title even after shuffling off this mortal coil some 28 years ago is quite something. But how's about letting some of us young younger chaps having a go? Eh?

Edsel Ford Fong was and indeed is still legendary. The Soup Nazi was said to be the Dalai Lama by comparison to Edsel Ford Fong. His ability to abuse and berate customers was beyond anything I had previously thought possible. Whilst I can only dream of greeting people with, "Sit down and shut up" EFF did it and the punters took it. He slammed food on the table. Called guests 'retarded' and 'fat'. Complained to the punters face about what he perceived to be a poor tip, 15% or not. He groped female punters too, which is more than pushing your luck fella. I mean there has to be a limit to ones rudeness and I think touching what shall not be touched is probably about it.

He wasn't even a great waiter. He spilled soup, forgot orders argued with punters when they complained about getting the wrong order. In other words he lived the life us, mere mortal waiters with rent etc to pay, can only dream about. Where we backbite and stink up the internet with bitter posts about this guy and that douche he lived life out, proud and rude.

And he is remembered for it. If he was just another waiter, plodding along he wouldn't have been remembered. There wouldn't have been an outcry when the health board tried to close down the restaurant where he made his fame and customers cried.

This is my road to Damascus moment. This is my calling.

So sit down and shut up...I'll bring you something in a bit...or not.

Edsel Ford Fong, I salute you.