Take this order to the K-hole

I worked in NYC with this waiter, Raymond, who loved to party. He could party all night with the help of cocaine and other drugs and show up for the lunch shift right from the afterhours bar still drunk and high. Often enough, he failed to show up at all for the lunch shift and crawled in for dinner around four. Our manager had warned him several times and Raymond had been fired in the past several times for the same offense. He always got his job back because he was popular with the guests and other employees. He was funny and endearing. Also, we were always short-staffed.

We had nicknames for some tables that we all used and they had stories attached to them. Raymond was being punished for his latest missed shift and was working the hoststand. He was still reeling from the night before of drinks and drugs. As he was taking guests to their table, he started slipping to the ground. He managed to slide himself into the banquette of this table and to recover himself, spread the menus around the middle of the table and told them they were seated there.

From then on, the table was no longer known as 51, it was now the K-Hole.