Mary Worth 1,080

GINA'S TIPS FOR GETTING MORE TIPS

First, work at a restaurant where the customers arrive in an elevated emotional state, such as Diner Across the Street from Hospital.

It helps if the restaurant is not ADA accessible. You don't want your customers to have sympathy for others who are sitting in wheelchairs when you are working for tips. All sympathy should be directed at yourself.

Next, establish your customer's concern for your welfare early on by running from the room in tears and tossing your order pad in the air as you leave.

When you return to take her order, tell the customer that your mother recently died, and you were her primary care giver.

If the customer is a man, tell him it was your father who died. If it is a group of rowdy teenagers, tell them your child was killed with two other friends in a terrible car accident and that they should all drive safely. Remember your goal: you are working for tips. Your customer must feel a connection and responsibility for you.

Finally, establish an immediate financial need before taking the order.

Once you have gained the customer's sympathy, established a familial connection, and created an immediate financial need, all you need to do is show a little self reliance and optimism to seal the deal.

She'll be calculating 25 percent before she's even ordered.

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,079

"You know what else isn't easy? Cranking my head back over my shoulder while I'm ordering lunch. Gina, darling, would you mind stepping just a couple of inches to your left?"

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,078

After a long cry in the ladies room, Gina the Waitress has returned to take Mary's order. It's nice that the other servers honored the Waitress Code ("Never Take Someone Else's Table") so that Gina can collect the really large tip she's got coming after keeping Mary waiting 47 minutes.

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,077

Uh oh. It appears that Mary's remark yesterday about dodging a bullet, may have touched a nerve. Chester the Dog pointed out in yesterday's comments that in the Worthiverse, bullets move so slowly that they would be easy to dodge, so perhaps Gina's pet turtle was recently shot.

I thought this was Diner Across the Street, but I have not seen a truckers cap in two days, and now fancy palms have started to grow, so I'm not so sure.

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,076

Are you referring to your check up, or to Jeff's marriage proposal?

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,075

Oh, no! Jeff has cancer and Mary has a table for one to sit at while she regrets not marrying him. Sheesh... now I have to make cancer jokes for the next four months. I'm not up to that.

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,074

You know what they used to build that veranda? A nail gun. And for those of you who are new, or may have forgotten what monotony REALLY is, may I remind you of Terry Bryson.

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,073

There's a quiet desperation in today's hope-for-change dialog. It's the same dialog we've been reading for two weeks. Nothing has changed. Two despondent, elderly people, running out of time, their backs to the wall, pleading for something in their lives to change. Is it too late for them? Is it too late for us?

Today's Full Strip

Mary Worth 1,072

Not the same person? Now here's an interesting plot twist. Somewhere in Jeff's past, he seems to have been mysteriously transmogrified into a Kindle reading, incompetent old doctor who loves sea food and has nothing better to do than propose over and over again to the 160 year old lady who pushes the book cart around the hospital. Perhaps this admission will prompt Mary to go on a quest to find the real Jeff Cory and marry him instead.

Today's Full Strip

My Newest Old Favorite Thing

The vending machines at work now sell Fresca. I hadn’t seen Fresca for years and years, so I thought I would give it a try. Crisp, refreshing citrus sensations, and zero calories. I took one sip and was immediately transported back in time to 1974.

I was ten years old. Five friends and I sat in the top floor of our incredible five story fort, eating Jiffy Pop popcorn and passing around a couple of cans of Fresca. The fort was less than a week old. All the neighborhood boys had worked on it together and each floor was designated for different groups of boys based on social status, determined by our age to forehead size ratio.

John and Danny were on the first floor. Richard was on the second floor. Tom and I were on the third floor.

None of us were permitted on the top floor. But the older boys were away, so there we were, deviously crowded into the enclosed box, high off the ground, enjoying a can of Fresca, and laughing about Planet of the Apes and Wacky Packages. The room was large enough for five small boys to sit, but too small to stand up or wiggle around very much. We were definitely wiggling.

CRACK!

Suddenly, the top two floors toppled off the fort, did a summersault, and stopped with a thud. We all screamed. We were now sideways, twisted up around one another, and Tom asked, “Is everyone okay?”

I was lying by the door and looked outside. I was startled by what I saw. “Uh, guys, nobody move,” I warned.

But it was too late. The tree branch we had landed on broke with a snap and we dropped like a rock another five feet, smashing onto the hard ground. The wood around us splintered and split into all kinds of jagged fragments. Nails jutted out around our heads. Dust filled the air and we coughed and choked as we emerged from the mess. Mrs. Wray came running out of her house screaming. But somehow, none of us were injured, although I remember my legs felt like rubber bands.

And I was covered in Fresca.

So, now, anytime I want to relive the perils of my childhood, I can wander down to the vending machines and buy a Fresca, which now comes in peach and black cherry flavors as well. The new flavors are quite tasty, but they don’t invoke the same vivid memories as the original.