The waitress set down a platillo of olives marinated in pimento chiles and oil.
Alas, they were out of it, and my dialogue with the waitress broke down completely.
The waitress set down cold Tsingtao beers, tiny clams sauteed with fermented black beans, spicy calamari and whole prawns, which he and his publicist ate, shells and all.
And though it was packed on the night I was there, the blond (i.e., non-Laotian) waitress sat down with me to explain the menu.
One waitress sat down at the table next to mine and chatted to an elderly customer; in the corner by the bar, a big circular table hosted a large group of high-spirited businessmen.
As a matter of fact, the staff there became so used to our presence that one magical evening our waitress leaned down and, with a glimmer in her eye, told us, "This meal's on the wait staff, 'cause you guys are such great regulars".
At precisely 7.30pm, the waitresses put down their trays and start to perform.
They probably don't mind (though their elders might) when the waitresses sit down at their tables to take orders.
When the bartender — he was young, at least, as were the waitresses — set down my drink, I made a comment about the weather, "Nice day for sunbathing, isn't it?," and the two regulars nearest me glanced up with something like interest in their eyes.
Waitresses down the road at Woody's Waterfront in St . Pete Beachwould clean a grouper at the water's edge and ceremoniously ring a bell as they toted the filet back to the kitchen.
