Ask June who?

Hentongue
(Obligatory Henry photo. So you'll leave me alone.) (Wow, look. I must have spilled coffee on that cupboard door, which you can't see in real life because I am never staring down at it like this. Now I have to go clean it. This is why Marvin hates coffee. Don't tell him about this.)

What cracks me up about all y'all is I never know what will make you comment. I never in a million years thought the Bob Seger/Monty Python combo would elicit 9,321,092.45 comments.

The Nester taught me to say "all y'all." Isn't it awful? And yet I can't help myself.

Oh, and speaking of how annoying I am, if I forget to tell you that Gladys is comment of the week for ONE MORE DAY, well, it'll be time for the NEXT comment of the week, is what it will be.

Look. I'm linky again. I'm Linky Tuscadero.

And you know what else I forget all the time now? Ask June. I have forgotten to do Ask June on Friday for the last 78 weeks. You can see I made a fine secretary. And also a stellar waitress. Oh, I was a terrible waitress. Cause scattered? Not me!

I used to work at Jacobson's restaurant in college. Jacobson's was a high-falutin' department store, and the restaurant served what-were-high-falutin'-at-the-time salads and sandwiches. Like chicken salad. Trust me. There was a time chicken salad was considered classy, as were radishes.

The restaurant also served drinks, and what was fun for me to watch were these 79-year-old women, dressed to the nines and sometimes tens, ordering the crab salad and three Manhattans. Which also used to be classy. I think Manhattans are whiskey and vermouth and that's it. But there they were, these women, gettin' toasted at 11:30, and YOU COULDN'T EVEN TELL.

I had such fun there. I worked lunch, so I had to be there at 10:30 and I was done by 3:00 at the very latest. The only drawback was it cut into tanning hours, but that's why God invented tanning booths. What malignant melanoma any day now?

I got a free lunch, so there was a lot of chicken salad in my life, and I worked with a group of gay guys who made me laugh so hard that I couldn't go out there to badly wait tables sometimes. When the old ladies would be cranky, we'd serve them decaf when they wanted real coffee.

And right in front of the building was the bus stop, and that bus took me right to my aerobics class. Oh, it was perfect.

I made about $100 a week in tips, which sounds sad now, but it was just enough to cover drinks and tanning lotion, which were my requirements for living. What wrinkles?

During the summer, they served a special salad that came inside half a cored-out pineapple. There were three scoops of mayonnaise-based salads in that pineapple. Or maybe one of the scoops was sherbet. I forget.

What I do remember is after I served those, every single time I would pick up the empty half-pineapple, dance into the kitchen with it on my head, and do a Carmen Miranda impression. With my polyester waitress uniform and nude hose. And perm. Mmm!

Okay, seriously, how did I get off on that tangent? Now I must shut up. And guess what I forgot to do again?

Ask June why she is such a numskull.

19 thoughts on “Ask June who?

  1. Kisses to little Henry with that little tongue hanging out! I didn’t miss Ask June because this post was full of hysterical detail. Don’t you just love the gay buddies and yes, Manhattans are strictly all booze! TGIF!!! Don’t you hate that? Is Lula at Doggy Daycare today? Are those Jack Russels back yet? Maybe you should have had Ask June with all my incessant questions.

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  2. I remember fifty years ago, riding the elevator (with an elevator operator to push the buttons and open the door for us) up to Younkers Tea Room(?) with my grandmother in her white gloves. I would always order “welsh rabbit”. I felt very grown-up. I don’t know what went on in the kitchen, however.

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  3. Ah, the hoity-toity lunch. When I was very young, my grandparents used to take me to the little restaurant within Lord & Taylor, which was considered fancy Back in The Day. I would order a ham and swiss sandwich, by whatever high-falutin’ name it had, and when it arrived, my ever-so-proper grandmother would reach into her purse (that matched her shoes) and extract a tomato and a kitchen knife and would proceed to slice up a tomato and add it to my sandwich. I don’t know if L&T didn’t carry tomatoes or if she didn’t trust their tomatoes or what. Of course this was years before dementia set in and she started singing dirty limericks at the top of her lungs. That wouldn’t have gone over so big at L&T. And my grandfather drank Manhattans, smoked two packs a day UNFILTERED, ate red meat, fried eggs and bacon every day of his life and lived well into his 80s.

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  4. My mom used to take me to the department store restaurants (what a weird idea that seems like now!). But she didn’t drink manhattans. The children’s menu called milk “moo juice.” I don’t remember any pineapple-wearing dancing waitresses, though.
    And why are gay guys so funny? I waited tables with them, too (though not the same ones, I assume).

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  5. What a treat it was to go eat at a department store restaurant with my mom, it made me feel very grown up. I think if I had a dancing waitress, I would probably tip more. You go, Carmen Miranda!

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  6. i worked in a “Amish” restaurant in Shipshewanna, IN one summer. i was constantly asked if i was a “real Amish girl”… i wasn’t even a fake Amish girl! i got to wear a darling (gag) “frock” & get hit on by men that said I smelled “too good” to be Amish…
    ~misschell

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  7. Junie,
    We really did live parallel lives. What with the terribleness at waitressing, tanning salons, aerobics classes, and adoration for gay men…Only think different was that I did it all sober! I was oh, so, prudish! That is, until I moved to MA!!!
    And, Misschell, those men sound creepy for hitting on you like that. Yick.

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  8. I was the worlds worst waitress, oh my. I could not have cared less about your stupid 19th diet soda refill or your stupid cold hamburger. Really, it all got in the way of my smoking habit, and we weren’t allowed to smoke while actually at a table.
    Sigh. That was about 100 years ago.

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  9. You know, I never was a waitress, never ate in a department store, and never danced with a pineapple anywhere on my person, so I have no comment today. All y’all have a good weekend over top of.
    If you need me I’ll be in the backyard listening to Seger.

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  10. My only brush with waitressing was working as a car hop at the small town A&W when I was 13-16. Remember those trays that slide onto your car window? I had a knack for dumping 6 large rootbeer floats into the driver’s seat….which was always occupied by driver. I don’t think they were enamored with my giggles as I handed them 2 napkins for which to ‘mop up’ with. But I made killer tips. For a 13 year-old wearing a brown uniform.

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  11. I loved the high-falutin’ department store lunches when I was a child! Neiman-Marcus was the hoity-toity place for us and the only place I ever saw a hot open faced sandwich. Plus I got to order Shirley Temples to drink. Woo Hoo!!! My child drink came from the adult drink bar. I swear we were much more easily entertained back then.

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  12. Mmmm, Jacobson’s. I grew up in their hometown (Jackson). We would go to their cafe on Saturday mornings before CCD (religious ed/Catholic Church) and get THE BEST hot chocolate, it was served in cunning little pots, oh, we thought we were so glamorous. I wish I could taste that hot chocolate again and find one of those little pots somewhere. I can’t even remember if they were silver or if they were pottery. I am seriously getting old!

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  13. Let me know when you start giving tours of the inside of your brain. It would definitely be worth the price of admission, no matter the cost!

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  14. Loved Jacoboson’s!!!! My Mother use to give me her credit card to go shopping in Birmingham MI at Jacobson’s…crazy woman…she must have been drinking those Manhattans.
    Bob Seger and Jacobson’s all in one week! So what’s next in the walk down the Michigan memory hall of fame??
    (oh and I tried posting yesterday but the nasty computer gods were not on my side)

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  15. Yes, gay GUYS are hilarious, blah blah blah. Just because gay women don’t flaunt it doesn’t mean we aren’t hilarious too. We’re just more clandestine. We’re stealthy. Like ninjas. We’re humor ninjas. But don’t tell the other ninjas that I told you.

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