Something happened at work that was so delightful it must be recorded, yet professionalism demands that I walk a tightrope of discretion. So this account will contain Truth, but not the Whole truth. As for “Nothing but the Truth,” my honesty is up to that, but my spotty specific-memory isn’t, so some of this will be inexact.

Three exuberant ladies stepped up to the host stand. We will call them 4, 5 and 6, based on the number of letters in their first names. One of them, either 4 or 5, said that they had been here before, and they were back because they had gotten crushes on me from last time, because I’d given them a poem. (I sometimes offer a poem or a joke for parties waiting for tables, by way of distraction through light entertainment.) I smiled and seated them at one of the most popular tables, a four-top with phone-charging capability and plenty of elbow room.

While I continued hosting, I started composing a limerick. No one watching me work would have suspected I was multitasking, nor was I shirking: I was getting people seated and bussing tables without missing a beat. But at a lull I passed the ladies’ table and caught an eye. “Hey, I have a limerick for you, [4],” I told her and them.

“Oh, let’s hear it!”

“There once was a lady named [4]
Who made her regard for me plain
As she dined in plain view
Of her cast and her crew
She was gracious and kind, in the main.”

Then I quickly said, “GEEZ, that’s lame,” and at that they laughed.

More tables, more diners, then a lull. I wandered by the fateful table. “Got one for [5].” “Good!”

“A fine-dining person named [5]
Is mostly a dignified lady,
She sings like a bird,
And does fine Spoken Word,
But she discoes like it’s 1980.”

I do not exaggerate when I describe their response as a Burst of Laughter. They had been polite the last time, but at most mildly amused. I think I made up for it with this one.

But now I had a problem. The third member of the trio had a brain-buster of a name to come up with two limerick-rhyme words for. I could cheat and not end the line with her name, but a) cheating b) inconsistent with the other two c) how fine it would be to MEET that challenge. As I took dishes to the Dish Pit I got Rhymeword #1. As I seated a party of six I got Rhymeword #2. As the ladies waited for their bill to be generated by the server I approached their table.

“Well, I didn’t want [6] to feel left out…”

They beamed.

“I know of a lass named [6].
Don’t EVER suggest she’s a Playa,
For at that very notion
She’ll rage like the ocean,
And you’d better BACK OFF–or she’ll Slay ya.”

And by golly, the response at the last was best of all, with not only hearty laughter but NODS–I inferred that I had stumbled on some Truth.

Most important for me was feeling that I had turned my gratitude for being the reason for their return to Matt’s into a reward in the form of…more Poetry. I walked on air all the rest of my shift.

And I hope they’ll be back. They are The Three Graces to me. My little card above would fully reveal my regard for them, if all the words could be read.