My new (and most favorite-ist) job

*This e-mail not intended for the faint of heart, and
you 've been warned...

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Hellow!

I have been at SPQR for a little more than a week.

I now walk, talk, and act like a gay man.

Today, I heard the best gay joke. Except I can't tell
it to you because it would have to involve the use of
my hands.

Most of the guys I work with are so incredibly,
unbelievably (unavailably) hot.

One of the servers, Nathan (Nay-Nay), laughs like the
Wicked Witch of the West out loud and all the time.
It's like his M.O. or something, and it's kinda
contagious.

I am learning heaps and heaps of new words, and I am
learning not to blush at some of the words that I
already knew, but was embarrassed to hear out loud. I
wouldn't share them with any of my grandmothers.

As I have mentioned before, our main clientele is gay
couples, groups of rich straight girls, or cute and
rich heterosexual couples, young and old. It's a very
high-end but casual dining place, and we're allowed to
talk to the guests pretty casually. That in itself
ads a whole new level of interest.

I REALLY love this job, and the people I work with.
It's a fun, fun place to be.

Unfortunately, though, there is one part of my job
that's getting a little bit old already. It is a
conversation that I have at least 6 times a night (no
exaggeration), and it goes like this:

Wendy: Blah, blah, blah, can I take your order? Blah,
blah, blah.

Guest: Blah, blah, we'll have blah, blah. So, are you
Canadian or American?

(now, the first time I heard this, my immediate
reaction was "What the hell? Of course I'm
American!")

Wendy: (deep breaths in, deep breaths out, and
patiently reply:) American.

(So, now, American friends, the question I have is
this: is it just me, or would you be deeply offended
to be considered Canadian? Of course I am American!
Is there anything else to be?)

Guest: Oh, you don't sound American.

Wendy: Hmm. And how is it that an American sounds?

Guest: (saying something really dumb in a horrible
southern accent)

Wendy: I'm sorry! You've confused the entire country
with the state of Texas. Yes, they do talk like that
in some places. But not most places. It's a pretty
civilized country and all.

Guest: (taken aback) So, whereabouts in America are
you from?

Wendy: Iowa. Right in the middle. Midwest.

(now, this next part will probably not come as a
shocker to anyone, but I really, really, really do
hear this 4 out of the 6 times I have this
conversation, no joke at all).

Guest: Potatoes, right?

Wendy: (deep breath in, deep breath out, and patiently
reply) Nope. (one more deep breath, patiently walk
away).

On a more sensitive note, here's another one I have
replied to often:

Wendy: Yes, I am quite aware that you don't believe in
our foreign policies. Do you vote in America? Well
then, don't worry about it. You guys just work on
getting the price of eggs down, and then we'll talk
about foreign policies.

And then I say some profanities. In my new gay voice
(which sounds pretty convincing already...).

Wendy