Lunch Lady Land

Every place of work that has it's own kitchen (cafeteria style) has a lunch lady. Now until recently we here at my office had not inherited a true lunch lady.

We now are the proud owner.

Before we had various standard service area persons. From the grumpy, bitchy, lady to the man you can't understand what is coming out of their mouth. All these people with bones to pick and getting frustrated over the world idiocy because the forgot to grab the garlic bread and would now like it as an after thought, or you were only to have a small coffee with the special and it is not worth my time to add the extra cents so I will let you go this time but not without a look of disgust!

But now we wait no longer our lunch lady has arrived.

I will start with a brief physical description.

She is an older lady possibly in her 70's, but more likely in her late 50's or early 60's but has smoked for 45 of those making her look 20 year older. She stands and walks with her knees bent a bit of a sway back topped of with a hunch. Really her stature is sort of like a cobra.

She greets me EVERYTIME with Maamm. Now the first few times I corrected her and said "sir." but she did not apologize or say anything just moved on like I was telling tales. So now I just take the gender flub and forget it. (Sometimes I answer in valley girl tone)

Here is a breakdown of ordering.

LL: What can I get you maam?

me: Can I get the perogies with the Yam's and Mushrooms.

ll: Is that to stay or to go?

me: For here (although I go I don't like the Styrofoam)

She grabs a plate and walks over to the side dishes.

ll: Do you want and veggies?

me: Yes Yams and the roasted Mushrooms please.

She proceeds to put one small piece of yam dead center in the plate and surrounds it with a HUGE and I mean huge two or three spoons of Mushroom. Enough for 4 people. The plate is now full.

ll: And what entree would out like maam?

me (to self): did she say out in that sentence?

At this point I decide it was pointless to ask the initial "What can I get you Maam" as she has either forgotten during the decision for eat in or out.

me: The perogies please

4 perogies carefully counted out with a spoon the size of my leg the mashed with the lack of dexterity that comes with a tool of its size.

I now have a little pile of mashed potatoes with the perogie skins on the side.

ll: Would you like Onions and sauerkraut... er sour... sour kraut? ...er Sour?? Cream .. Sour cream and sour kraut? no Onions. Sour cream and onions?

me: Yes please.

ll: You would like them?

me: Yes but please no Sour kraut.

She looks at me like I am stupid and says:

LL: we don't have any sour kraut sir. (She proves she knows my gender)

Finally she goes for the onions. PLOP literally two large cooking onions on top. and a table spoon of sour cream.

She hands me the plate....

me: Don't I get a sausage with that? (like I need it)

Looks at me like I am stupid or insane and

LL: YES maam...

And uses her hand and picks up a sausage. (now the interesting part I noticed is she did not even use the tips of her fingers like you would think. No, she palmed the fucker. FULL GRIP)

And drops it like a fucking cherry on the top of this horrific pile.

My plate was 8 inches deep at the center.

By the time I found my poor little yam it was covered with so much crap it no longer looks appetizing at all.

Gross.