The Regular

Scott’s my “Regular”.


People often ask me about regulars, like Katz’s is Cheers, or Alice.

Does anyone remember Alice?


Anyway, yes there are lots of regulars at Katz’s. And the other waiters often take pride in their regulars, bragging to each other “oh, he’s my regular.” Implying big tips.


I don’t have too many regulars, no one who would choose me before the other waiters, because frankly, my service is never that good, and i’m sure I can be annoying as a waiter.


I do have one, and I can’t stand him. He’s like magic though, or the devil or something. He only comes when it’s extremely busy, or I’m stuck. His name is Alan, but in my mind his name is Scott, I don’t know why. Maybe because my Dad’s name is Alan, and this guy Scott makes me so crazy.


He shows up, sits in the non-waiter service and calls me over. I always think the same thing:

“Fuck, it’s Scott.”


But I am always happy to see him, because he is my regular and I know what he wants.


“Hey, Scott!, how are you?”


“Hello David. It’s Alan.”


“Right Alan. The usual?”


I love knowing what this guy wants, the problem is his regular order is my most hated order at Katz’s. He always gets two hot dogs, one with Coleslaw, and one with Potato Salad and a Diet Cream soda. This might not seem so annoying to you, but if you work there, or just know Katz’s layout, you know you have to get hot dogs at the grill, and then take them to the French Fry station to apply Coleslaw and Potato Salad. Which to me is just revolting.


It’s also annoying because when it’s busy it takes time and effort, two things I prefer not to take when waiting tables.

The bill is always like 10 bucks, Scott gives me two.

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