Disclaimer: Opinions of The Last Jewish Waiter are not necessarily those of Katz’s Deli.
“David, this is happening too much.” Alan says dismissively as he walks through the crowded restaurant like an old shark. He hurries to the back counter where he puts together a mixed plate of half sour, sour pickles and a few quartered pickled tomatoes.
“I got it” I say, grabbing the plate from his hand, seemingly unconcerned with his reaction. I rush to one of my tables. It is table three, and it is a trio of Germans, who really wanted their fucking pickles. ‘Well fuck Alan, and fuck them’, I think to myself, and apologize to the Germans, who do not return the apology, and these fucks have a lot to be sorry for. Like how they dress, or how they speak, or how they order so badly. But realistically they should just apologize for the holocaust.
