Today I am premiering a feature I hope to keep up with weekly — my award for the most memorable customer I serve at the brewery during that 7-day span. I have always said that working in the restaurant biz for me at this juncture in life helps with money, sure. But it’s also character study. Situated in the middle of downtown DC and specializing in brews, Cap City — lucky for me — attracts stuffy business travelers, Italian men who kiss your hand yet stiff you in the tip department, kids from Oklahoma in town to sing at the Kennedy Center and ready to belt out high notes for others. You get the idea.
This week was tough to select customer numero uno. Runner up definitely goes to my homeboy who was so high on what I can only assume was crack that he inhaled a steak in two minutes flat and then fell asleep in the booth while his special lady friend scarfed down wings seated beside him. Aah, and they say romance is dead. I had to crazily keep taking items off the table to wake him up long enough to pay.
Alas, there was another male customer who beat out Mr. Crackhead Narcoleptic. This gentleman was probably about 55 or 60 years old and here on business with three other friends. The group made up my best demographic in terms of customers — middle aged males who say mildly inappropriate things but are basically harmless and reward me monetarily for putting up with their cracks. Anyway, when the meal was finished the ring leader of the bunch launched into a business pitch. “You seem really smart and kind,” he said to begin buttering me up.
Then it was on. He left to head back to his hotel room and bring back the product they were here to promote: Mona Vie.”You have to try it,” he bragged. The bottle looked like it would hold some great Pinot Noir so naturally I was thrilled. Instead, it was a juice blend with 19 different fruits like acai berry, lychee and aronia berries (yeah, I don’t know either). The brochure my customer handed me touted “the all-important anti-oxidants” and “fabulous fruits” that set this juice apart. I took a small sip out of view of the managers who would likely assume I was drinking on the job. The Mona Vie had, as I remarked, the thickness of a face mask. I later learned that you can either drink the concoction or put it on your face, which I suppose made my initial reaction dead on.
“So where can I get this stuff?” I asked, trying to be polite. That’s when I learned the catch. “Well, you would have to get it through me. We don’t sell in any store. And we’re always recruiting people to sell this great juice as well.”
Wow. I always love how people explain pyramid schemes. It’s an opportunity. You barely have to do anything and the money rolls in. Riiight.
I actually have had my fair share (scratch that — make it my fair share and others’) of friends and virtual strangers asking me to jump on the pyramid bandwagon. My first experience was in high school when Cutco recruited me to sell knives door to door. I remember being so flattered that I was considered charismatic and talented enough to cut leather in an effort to sell wood locks of cutlery. What a sucker I was. The worst part is Cutco makes you believe that you’ll be selling to strangers, which is definitely an easier pill to swallow. Then after you’ve endured hours of training, they subtlely slip in the critical information that you have to generate customers from your inner circle. “I am not letting you sell to my friends” was my mom’s very quick refusal to participate. The Cutco dream died right there.
Then in college my boyfriend Chip became obsessed with Quickstar, which I still don’t really understand as a company. All I know is I would have had to get my friends to forego shopping for basic toiletries at places like CVS and Target and instead order through me. It was ludicrous…to me, not so much Chip. He may still be involved for all I know.
Needless to say, I will not be Mona Vie’s newest salesgirl. I’m sure, though, that if anyone wants to be I can hook you up.
