Jimbo is a Denny's Waiter...for 20 minutes

One of my friends used to work as a Denny's waiter and after moving his way up in the ranks, which took a good few hours of work, he decided to call it quits. Having not the slightest inclination of ever going back it's amazing to me that he didn't burn his 'Denny's attire' but inadvertently kept the monkey suit in the back of his closet. Unbeknownst to him, it would come in quite handy years later.

This fine evening included the likes of Myself, Jeff, Dean, and a newcomer Anna. By newcomer I mean this is the first time me and Anna hung out. I briefly describe the situation (I'm pretty sure I just said we were going to get food at Denny's and I may cause a scene. She had no idea what she was getting into) and Anna agrees to go along.

We arrive at Denny's and are promptly seated. We're all shooting the breeze and I'm checking out the scene. I warn Anna that at anytime we may have to run out of the joint like there's no tomorrow, so if the signal is given, she better have the getaway car waiting. I'm pretty sure this is when regret for accepting my kind invitation kicked in, but she's a player and is anxious to see what exactly "Crazy Johnny" had planned.

The only hurdle we had to overcome was when I had to change into my outfit, since this was the point in time the severe case of POISON JOHNNY was at it's peak. That being the case, changing clothes was a lengthy process and it was imperative that this transfiguration be a quick one. I appoint Jeff to join me in the bathroom so we can make this a speedy metamorphosis. The rush of pulling off this little prank surpassed the fact that I did not enjoy having another man undress me. I figured that just like a band-aid, the faster it goes the more painless the process would be. The only problem being that if it went too fast, Poison Johnny Juice would be sprayed all over the both of us.

I'm taking off my shirt and Jeff's working on getting off my shoes and pants. Jeff and I both can't help but laughing at this ridiculous situation, but we had a mission to accomplish. My pants are around my ankles and as Jeff is on his knees looking up at me smiling, two guys walk in. Dead silence. Now, when they walked in they were having a good time talking it up and laughing about something, until they saw me half naked with Jeff in front of me on his knees.

We look over completely shocked and they are staring at us speechless. The feeling's mutual. After the longest 5 seconds of sheer awkwardness, we do our best to explain/plead that we are not homosexuals getting it on in a Denny's bathroom. A few minutes of convincing and explaining what was about to take place, the guys finally understand what was really happening and join us gaily in laughter. No pun intended.

I exit the men's room and see all my potential victims throughout the restaurant. Of course the two guys that moments earlier walked in on us are already keeled over in their booth in tears. I see my friends acting natural, anxiously awaiting what is about to take place. I'm now Jimbo in fully Denny's attire ready for action. Aside from my extreme beauty, bathroom memories, and bubbling arms, I'm now an official waiter. I proceed to take people's orders. In the customers eyes, there's no doubt that I'm an actual waiter, however, no one seemed to want to look at the atrocious thing believed to be my face. People avoided eye contact as if they look directly into my eyes they will "catch" what I have and morph into some sort of monster. Aside from slurring and spitting all over these innocent patrons, everything is going as planned. That's when I was spotted.

An actual waitress that apparently is employed to work more than one time as a prank approaches me.

Waitress: Uh...what are you doing?
Me: (Nonchalant) Just taking orders. Oh, I forgot to tell you the boss said I'm taking your section for the night.
Waitress: Wha, What?

I ignore her and continue to do my job.

Waitress: What? No, you don't even work here!
ME: I just transferred from another location. You may want to double check the schedule and make sure you're supposed to be working tonight.

She's speechless, and stares at me for a few seconds before I act like she's not there again and continue taking orders. She walks off irate and very confused. I then notice the manager, who appears to be Seinfeld's neighbor Newman's twin brother approach me. I give my friends the "Get outta here and get the car ready because it's about to be on!" look.

Manager: Is there a problem?
Me: No, no problem.

I turn and take the next customer's order. There is a harsh tap on my shoulder.

Manager: What do you think you're doing? You don't work here!
Me: Oh, I just got transferred.
Manager: Transferred? No. No. Where did you get that uniform from?
Me: I told you, I transferred from another branch.
Manager: You're going to have to leave. I need that uniform from you or I'm calling the police.
Me: Okay, well...

I turn and sprint out of that place like I had just robbed the joint. The getaway car is waiting as planned and peels off to freedom.

Driving away we're all chatting it up and laughing. I'm informing them all of the events that took place after they gracefully exited. I'm getting my clothes back and during the laughter something doesn't feel right, well, aside from the Poison Johnny.

Me: You got my hat back there too?
Jeff: Um, I don't see it.
Dean: Nah, it's not back here.
Me: You gotta be kidding me. It has to be back there.

We all look throughout the car.

Me: Wait, don't even tell me you left my hat back there.
Jeff: Sorry man. It's no big deal.
Me: No big deal? That's my lucky hat!
Jeff: Look, if you really want, I'll get you another hat. I must have just left it in the booth by accident. Sorry.
Me: We're going back.
Jeff: What?
Dean: No way. The cops are already on their way.
Jeff: Yeah, we can go back...if you want to get arrested.
Me: Anna, turn the car around, we're going back.
Anna: Seriously?
Jeff: No way.
Me: That's my lucky hat. All the pranks I've pulled since back in the day, what's been with me? Exactly. We're going back there and I'm getting my hat.

Everyone's still debating me but no sooner do we arrive back at Denny's. My plan is to be as casual as possible, hurry in, go back to the booth, get my hat, and be out of there quicker than the first time. I figured every other plan was flawless so this would be too.

I casually stroll in as insignificant as possible and immediately get applause from everyone. So much for keeping a low profile. I rush over to the booth and look around. No sign of my hat. I check the surrounding booths. No dice. My eyes are frantically searching everything in site. Nothing. I stop and come to a realization. In slow motion I turn around fearing the worst. I look across the place to directly behind the cash register. That's right, it's my nemesis bating me. The manager not only has my hat in hand and is smiling but I kid you not, is slowly spinning it on his finger, completely mocking me. I realize this guy has decided that tonight, he wants to die.

I actually contemplate fighting this guy when the words from moments earlier come to my mind. "Arrested," "Jail," "Life is like a box of chocolates..." and realize throwing down with a Denny's manager isn't really an option. I walk over, and hoping he forgot the commotion and whole scene I caused and how minutes earlier I was harassing his staff and his customers, I am now Mr. Polite.

Me: Can I please have my hat back Sir?
Manager: Listen you little hoodlum, if you give me back the uniform and don't ever show your face here again, I'll give it back to you. (I don't find out till later that it's apparently some big company policy that only current employees posses the Denny's official uniform. Why? I don't know. Go ask Newman.)

There's no way I'm giving him my new favorite outfit, but for the sake of my hat and to hurry my exit before the cops show up, I agree. I go to the bathroom where the previous hilarious memories have now faded to the newly important "How am I going to get out of this one" attitude. I exit the restroom to see the manager almost salivating, anxiously awaiting his prized uniform I now have in hand. Everyone in the place is now a spectator to this gladiator battle in the coliseum. As I walk up to the manager, he proposes the exchange take place simultaneously and I consent.

With the outfit in my left hand, I extend and give it to him as I am grabbing my hat with my right hand. As soon as my fingers touch the hat, I snatch it away and immediately my right hand comes to the left's rescue in yanking back the outfit. This does not please Mister Manager. He holds on to the clothes as if it were the last hamburger at McDonalds. Now it's on.

The guy tries to jerk the clothes out of my hands, enough so that I'm literally sprawled out on the glass counter with both arms extended far behind the counter, still clutching my hat and clothes. While the manager is busy thinking how happy he is that he won the battle, it's time for me to win the WAR! With all my strength I yank the clothes back and now HIS BELLY IS ON THE GLASS AND HIS ARMS ARE NOW ON MY SIDE OF THE COUNTER HOLDING ON TO THE UNIFORM!

He pulls me back over again and one last time I pull back enough that the clothes snap out of his hands. When his belly hits the glass he immediately bounces back up like a bouncy ball. There's no time for laughter as I'm too busy exiting as if the place were about to blow. I get the deja vu feeling as I'm darting out of this top of the line chophouse once again. I leap into the car and peel off. I look back to see Newman huffing and puffing yelling some nonsense while flailing his arms and envying the spoils I now posses. I see the police cars pass us as we are making our exit and I can't help but laugh seeing the manager standing there knowing he's yearning for that Denny's outfit, and some chocolate cake.

As we drove home playing the scenes over and over again in our heads, I realized the mission of "Let's have some fun with this dusty Denny's uniform" was accomplished. I was able to put on a show for an entire restaurant, get some free food and drink, give the patrons a story to tell for years to come, and I made quite a first impression with Anna who I am still close friends with to this day. Most importantly though, I still have my lucky hat.

Post Script: On quite an interesting side note, the restaurant actually closed about a month after this whole crazy fiasco - most likely due to the way the manager treated his employees, or more importantly his best employee, Me.

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