Tweet
I have told this story twice on these boards, but the other day in chat I told it again for some people who had not seen it. So I am presenting it one more time in its own thread for the edification, enlightenment, and entertainment of any who missed it...and because, frankly, I thought the way I told it the other day in chat was my best telling of it yet. Being somewhat of a writer, that is important to me.
Okay, then....break out the popcorn and pull up a chair. Time for the story of Upstairs Man.
I used to work in a chain restaurant, one that has a bunch of red and white stripes in their logo, if you know what I mean. In this particular restaurant, we had three levels, though not three stories. When you walked in, you were on the main level. A few steps up, and you were on the bar level. And a few steps up from there, you were on the upper level. None of these levels are separated by big walls, and you can pretty much see the vast majority of the restaurant, and all three levels, from any point in the restaurant.
So far, so simple.
So, one day, I am standing by one of the server computers, which is right by a set of stairs that leads up to a landing by the bar level, and then after that there are a few more stairs that lead to the upper level. A "gentleman" walks up to me. He seems intelligent. He seems sober. He seems to not be suffering from any developmental disabilities.
He looks at me, a drink in his hand (but again, seeming rather lucid and sober), in full view of the stairs, and asks me, "Excuse me...do you have an upstairs?"
I look at him like he has sprouted flippers from his nostrils.
"Um, yes." I say. I turn. I look pointedly at the upper level, plainly visible from where we are. I turn back to him.
Unphased, he then asks me, "Where is it?"
Me: Blink blink. Stare.
I am beginning to think he DOES have flippers growing out of his nostrils.
Again, I turn towards the PLAINLY VISIBLE stairs and upper level, point to it, and say, "Um....right there."
He then says the last thing I expected him to say.
"How do I get there?"
Nostrils? Flippers? He'd be so lucky.
I look him dead in the eye and say, "Um....you walk...up....the stairs."
He looks at me and, without missing a beat, says very politely "Thank you!"...and walks away. NOT up the stairs, but back to wherever in the restaurant he came from.
I stood there, trying (and failing) not to get stupider as I thought about it.
But every time I think about it, I do, in fact, get stupider.
It actually PHYSICALLY hurts my head every time I think about this guy.
After 20 years in the food service industry, I was convinced that there was no one single Stupidest Question Ever, and that I had heard just about the dumbest things I could ever here.
I was wrong on both counts.
But Upstairs Man, who seemed to have nothing wrong with his vision, asked me the Dumbest Thing I Have Ever Been Asked.
And that is saying a lot.
If anyone ever tops Upstairs Man (a feat I doubt is possible), I am not sure I will survive the mental breakdown sure to follow. It was so stupid, I literally just stood there afterwards in complete disbelief, forgetting whatever it was I was doing at the time.
This is not a War Story, as it is so short, but for sheer stupidity, I will put Upstairs Man up against ANY War Story.
Here endeth Uncle Jester's Story Hour.
Okay, then....break out the popcorn and pull up a chair. Time for the story of Upstairs Man.
I used to work in a chain restaurant, one that has a bunch of red and white stripes in their logo, if you know what I mean. In this particular restaurant, we had three levels, though not three stories. When you walked in, you were on the main level. A few steps up, and you were on the bar level. And a few steps up from there, you were on the upper level. None of these levels are separated by big walls, and you can pretty much see the vast majority of the restaurant, and all three levels, from any point in the restaurant.
So far, so simple.
So, one day, I am standing by one of the server computers, which is right by a set of stairs that leads up to a landing by the bar level, and then after that there are a few more stairs that lead to the upper level. A "gentleman" walks up to me. He seems intelligent. He seems sober. He seems to not be suffering from any developmental disabilities.
He looks at me, a drink in his hand (but again, seeming rather lucid and sober), in full view of the stairs, and asks me, "Excuse me...do you have an upstairs?"
I look at him like he has sprouted flippers from his nostrils.
"Um, yes." I say. I turn. I look pointedly at the upper level, plainly visible from where we are. I turn back to him.
Unphased, he then asks me, "Where is it?"
Me: Blink blink. Stare.
I am beginning to think he DOES have flippers growing out of his nostrils.
Again, I turn towards the PLAINLY VISIBLE stairs and upper level, point to it, and say, "Um....right there."
He then says the last thing I expected him to say.
"How do I get there?"
Nostrils? Flippers? He'd be so lucky.
I look him dead in the eye and say, "Um....you walk...up....the stairs."
He looks at me and, without missing a beat, says very politely "Thank you!"...and walks away. NOT up the stairs, but back to wherever in the restaurant he came from.
I stood there, trying (and failing) not to get stupider as I thought about it.
But every time I think about it, I do, in fact, get stupider.
It actually PHYSICALLY hurts my head every time I think about this guy.
After 20 years in the food service industry, I was convinced that there was no one single Stupidest Question Ever, and that I had heard just about the dumbest things I could ever here.
I was wrong on both counts.
But Upstairs Man, who seemed to have nothing wrong with his vision, asked me the Dumbest Thing I Have Ever Been Asked.
And that is saying a lot.
If anyone ever tops Upstairs Man (a feat I doubt is possible), I am not sure I will survive the mental breakdown sure to follow. It was so stupid, I literally just stood there afterwards in complete disbelief, forgetting whatever it was I was doing at the time.
This is not a War Story, as it is so short, but for sheer stupidity, I will put Upstairs Man up against ANY War Story.
Here endeth Uncle Jester's Story Hour.
Comment