I realize that the following piece will remove any doubt from the minds of many that I’m a complete jerk.  But I cannot be silenced as I insist on discussing the important topics of the day.

Today’s burning issue:  The education and training of Denny’s waitresses.

When I am teaching a room of lawyers how to create a legal brief in Microsoft Word, it’s not enough that I know how to explain the mechanics of the template and macros to them.  I actually need to understand some of the context of their work.  Of course, it’s not necessary for me to have attended law school, but it helps if I can say things like, “As you know, the only three fonts allowed by California courts for pleadings are Times Roman, Arial and Courier.” 

In other words, it’s not enough for me to know how to teach the thing, I need some broader knowledge relevant to my customers (lawyers, paralegals, legal secretaries).

That’s true for every job.  You need the base skill set along with an understanding of your customer’s needs.

Even if you are a waitress at Denny’s.

Now I certainly understand that my waitress at Denny’s isn’t a nutritionist, or a dietitian, or a food scientist.  But it’s not enough that she knows how to take my order and bring me my food, no matter how ravishingly well she does those two things.  She should know what, in terms of the products she’s providing me, a “carbohydrate” is.  Seriously.

Particularly if she is a waitress at a Denny’s in California.  Particularly if she’s a waitress at a Denny’s in Los Angeles.

Why?  Because her customers are vegans.  And raw fooders.  And lacto-ovo-vegetarians.  And kosher.  And on low-fat diets.  And on low-carb diets.

Perhaps nowhere in the known universe are food and diet more Balkanized than in sunny LA.  And yes, it’s your JOB to understand that at least a tiny little bit, Denny’s Waitress.

So when I say, “I’m on a low-carb diet . . . could I have the fajita vegetable mix instead of the pancakes and hash browns with my omelet, ” you really shouldn’t say, “Oh, so you’d like egg whites?”

No, mi chica tierna.  That’s low-fat. 

On my last trip to I-Hop the waitress offered me corn as a substitute for rice.

Corn.  Instead of rice. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what a carbohydrate is, ” she said sheepishly.

“YOU SELL FOOD FOR A LIVING!!” I screamed in my inner monologue.

I know it sounds cranky, but for a waitress to not know what a carbohydrate is would be like a gardener not knowing what a flower is.  Or a carnival pitchman not knowing what a mooch was.  Or a porno actress not knowing what — but you get my point.

Last week when I asked for my omelet order to be low carb – specifically, vegetables instead of the bread and hash browns, she responded by proudly depositing an omelet in front of me which had no meat.

On a “Meat Lovers’” omelet.

Okay.  Let me put it to you this way, honey.  You work mostly for tips.  It would be in your professional self-interest to learn what a low-fat diet is.  And what a carbohydrate is.  And what on your menu is kosher.  And which soups have no beef or chicken stock in them.  Yes, these are things you should know for your job.

Learn these things, and I bet your tips would improve.  At least they would from me.

So here’s the premise:

You find a magic pill that would, if you took it, make you go to sleep and wake up at any point in your past that you choose.  You would be the younger version of yourself, but you would retain all of the knowledge and memory of your experiences.  In effect, it would give you the opportunity to go back and have a “do-over.”

Let’s say you were even allowed to magically bring back a “Little Black Book” with notes on stocks to invest in, flights to avoid, etc.

Would you do it?  How many years would you go back?  What would you try to change? Would you make an effort to “gather up” the important people in your current life again?  Would you marry the same person?  Do the same job?  Live the same place?