Confusion at the Deli

So I went to this deli called Junior's yesterday afternoon for lunch with B. He's a Hungarian Methodist or something, and I'm a German Catholic but my family's all Irish on my mother's side. Super fucking shamrocky Irish...four leaf clovers, rainbows, frosted lucky charms, you know. So, in order to get our yearly fill of cornbeef on St. Paddy's, we, living in LA, head over to the best Jewish delicatessen in town.

We were all sitting there...and maybe it's because I work in a school that's predominantly Jewish, one might say really Jewish...but I have learned quite late in life that Jews love to be made fun of...by their own people, but still. So there I was, surrounded by Jews like in the Holy Land. And they were all dressed in these great outfits -- nip waders (as B refers to them), broaches, capes, big bouffant style hairdos.

Anyway, this guy that works there calls over the loudspeaker, "David, party of two."

And this guy next to me jumps up and runs over, says, "Daniel, party of four?"

And the waiter goes, "No, David. Party of two."

And Daniel goes, "Not Daniel?"

And the waiter goes, "No, Daaaay-vid."

And Daniel goes, "Am I David?"

Pause. Long pause.

And me and B are like, "Jeez, buddy, if you don't know, he can't help you." The waiter gives him a very condescending look and shakes his head slowly.

Some people are fucking retarded. So Danvid, as we are now referring to him sits back down, but seriously, when it was our turn the waiter calls, "(A name simialar to) Maynard! Party of two."

And David gets back up again!! "Daniel? Is that me?!?"

OMG. We need a big bus right about now. Anything. Danvid is so confused!!