* You refer to decaf coffee as “Sanka.”
* At night, you need a flashlight to read anything, much like all your customers.
* People constantly confuse you for the owner (even though you’re wearing an apron).
* You’re really, really interested in the restaurant’s retirement plan.
* You’ve ever said, “You know, when I first started serving, there was no such thing as a gluten allergy!”
* You’ve ever worked at the Ritz.
* You not only serve Cobb Salads, you love eating them.
* You bought your uniform at J.C. Penny’s.
* Your son works with you.
* No guest ever calls you “young man.”
* You frequently visit the restaurant’s stash of reading glasses….for yourself.
* Much like the guests, you too used to use Equal-brand sweetener in your coffee. Ha! Equal. Does anyone use Equal anymore?
* You know what a Denver Omelet is.
* You’ve ever worked at a restaurant that served margarine. By the way, about margarine: that was a good experiment gone horribly wrong, right? So much worse for you than butter.
* Mother’s Day for you is also Grandmother’s Day.
* You get really, really hungry for dinner around 4:30 pm. And need to sleep by 8.
* You opened your restaurant. Your 20-year-old restaurant. You opened your 20-year-old restaurant. You were there for the opening of your restaurant, as an employee, two decades ago.
* You have to use the big letters on your iPhone. Okay, this is just a general sign that you’re old but….seriously. The moment you need to read your text messages with 2-inch-tall letters is the moment you need to consider a permanent visit to “Golden Acres Retirement Home: Senior Living for Active Seniors!”
Oh, and one more thing: you frequently regale your coworkers with stories of how glorious serving was in the 80s. The 19-freaking-80s. YOU TELL STORIES ABOUT WORKING IN THE 80s?! WTF. If I hear one more story about how glorious the champagne-and-coke fueled halcyon days of restaurants in the 1980s were, I’m gonna unscrew my eardrums with my wine key. Really. I get it. You made boatloads of cash tips in the 1980s, when you had to manually walk your food tickets over to the kitchen and when you could do rails of white lines during your shift because we were all doomed by nuclear war anyway. Great. By the way, does anyone remember how insanely anti-Japanese everyone in America was in the 80s? “Gung Ho,” “Rising Sun,” and “Long Duk Dong,” anyone? Wow.