Last Saturday marked the 4th, or possibly 5th but I'm pretty sure it's only 4th, Annual WurstFest at our home.
WurstFest is a celebration of Friendship and the Sausage, and of course friendship of the sausage, held annually right around the second weekend in June. It features grilled wurst, lamb sausage, bratwurst and the humble frankfurter, along with cold beer, sangria and various and sundry salads and other beverages.
The weather this year was hot and dry, the crowd was solid with a few additions of wife's workmates and the annual no show by Don. Last year Don showed up on the day after wurstfest while this year he had a "Pre-solstice art show and celebration of the herb Festival" to attend that his better half demanded his presence at. I will continue to invite Don in the hopes that his excuses get more and more outlandish, a sort of Munchhausen addition to the festivities.
It was a great day, and great fun. Wife did most of the grilling but there was a period of time when Daughter stepped up to the fire and took control. I was sitting in the shade enjoying a cold one when Daughter took over the grill and as I smiled G-man leaned over and said: "Now that's gotta be a proud moment"......... and it was. I love food, and the proper preparation of food, and daughter is beginning to appreciate these things as well, now as long as she doesn't attempt to make a career of it I'll be a happy man.
Back at work on Monday night I had my worst "Euro night" of the young summer season. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, Euro, or to be Euroed, refers to those wealthy tourists from the European continenet who either don't know, or more likely don't care, that in North America service staff get paid shit wages and rely on gratuities to make a living.
Don't even bother with the "Well in their country the tip is included" argument because it's tragically flawed in that they aren't in their own country when they come to Canada. As one waiter once observed "I knew not to walk around Buddhist temples bare chested the least these fuckers could do is learn to tip 15%".
But I digress, on Monday I was gored by the worst of all the Euros - two tables of Dutch tourists. I mean any nation that has an expression describing cheapness named after them is pretty scary, and while the Brits are certainly generally poor (10%) tippers the Dutch are monumentally cheap. I mean cheap to the point that servers in good Dining Rooms, who generally pay out 5-7% of their sales to support staff, actually lose money serving them. That was my sad reality on Monday as my two tables of fucking wooden shoe wearing, cheese making cheap bastards racked up bills of $210 and $315 respectively and each left me ................ $10 while lavishly praising the meal and the service. So their net bills were around, oh $460 and I pay out 6% which means it only cost me $7.00 and change for these people to eat in my section.
Thank you very much, remind me to stop drinking Heineken and eating Gouda.