I went to the restaurant alone for a quick lunch before going to a meeting. I was seated by the hostess and soon greeted by the waitress who slid into the opposite side of the booth. She wrote her name, MADISON, in black marker on a paper napkin and said she was my server and to call her if I needed anything. She cooed the specials to me and asked if I was on my lunch hour. She left and came right back with my drink and asked if I have given much thought to the specials. By then I was beginning to feel a little confused. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to order food or ask her to dance. I opted for the shrimp and she excitedly cheered my choice. Less than an hour later, reeking of garlic shrimp, I asked for my check, left a large tip, and headed for the door. On the way out, I heard her speaking almost the exact words in the same way to yet another male customer. My first thought was that she was cheating on me. My next thought was that some schmuck owner or manager trained her to act like that to all male customers eating alone. Having to be a sexy and sultry order-taker of garlic shrimp in order to feed yourself and possibly your young child is demeaning, I suppose, to her, and embarrassing, for sure, to me. If I said anything to the boss, she might get in trouble. If I don’t go back out of protest, she will lose money. What is a poor lunch guy to do?

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