Not with a whimper, but a bang.

Work update! Tonight was friggin' awesome! So here's what happened (are you ready?):

The managers decided to have their big manager party tonight. One of the lead waitresses was going to act as proxy. Then somebody decided to accept a reservation for 70. So we reserved the whole front room for the party. It turns out it was for some Provo Youth Hockey team, so there were tons of obstreperous eleven-year-old boys everywhere. We had two parties upstairs, also.

We were sizzlin'. Then we ran out of quarters. "Here are seven dimes; I'm sorry." Everything's still fine. Until the power went out. I guess the power went out for at least six city blocks. We had some emergency lights and flashlights, but it was basically pitch black. We couldn't print checks, place orders, cook food, get drinks, or anything. The little kids we had packed into the front room were wailing and crying and screaming. It was just like 3 Nephi 8:23. The fans turned off in the kitchen, and soon the heat was oppressive. All the poor Mexicans were just huddled quietly in the muggy darkness, tring to use their keychain-lights to identify the food that was ready. The waitress/managress was on the phone with the managers, the owner, the city of Provo. People were asking for their money back. Some woman claimed that she had already paid before the blackout, but her server insisted she hadn't. Some people were impatiently trying to pay with credit cards; others had just come in and were insisting that we seat them right away. Fortunately for me, I had already printed my tickets so I could save a trip to the computer (others were having to calculate tax with a calculator), and my food was ready shortly after the darkness fell. One of the nice Marias grabbed my order book and went around the kitchen gathering everything I needed for me. I told my tables I had made arrangements to create a more romantic setting, just for them. They all tipped me very well after all was over. Fifteen to twenty minutes later, the power came back on. The computers were still down for a good while after that. One of the managers was there helping by that point.

The surprise of the lights coming back fell into the umbrage of the scene that it illuminated, however. The hockey children had thrown chips and salsa everywhere. Some were on the tables throwing pinecones at each other (the head mom had brought pinecone decorations for some reason!). About six of the brats had taken off their jackets and were IN THE FOUNTAIN collecting everbody's wishes and splashing the elderly couples who were seated nearby. Before we could ask them to get out, one of the kids grabbed the sides of the terra cotta fountain and tried to climb on top. It toppled over, cracking the whole thing. We got the enfants terribles out of there, and by that time, there were so few other customers that they let me clock out, on the condition that I help them rearrange the tables and clean up the slops. So I did. Things were almost back in order, except for the computers and the fountains, when I clocked out and went into the bathroom to change my cothes. The toilet was overflowing. I did what I felt was the right thing; I left without saying a word to anyone.