As some of you may know, I fund my writing habit by moonlighting as a server at Olive Garden. I wrote, or rather re-wrote, this poem for our managers, but wanted to share it with any of my Olive Garden Family who are willing to check it out on the blog. It’s a take on Clement Moore’s, ” T’was the Night Before Christmas.” I couldn’t help but think what that night might be like at my work. There a quite a few inside jokes, but  even if you don’t work at the OG you might still get a chuckle out of it             .

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the OG

Servers were passing out entrees with glee.

The orders were taken and filled with great care

In hopes GSS would continue to flare.

The guests sat nestled all snug in chairs

While smells of spaghetti and cheese filled the air.

And Jen in her blazer, and Jeff in his tie

Had just settled in back, for a phone call from Guy.

When over the headset there arose such a clatter

They ran to the front to see what was the matter.

Away to the lobby they flew like a gunner

While on the way through yelling, “I need a runner.”

The lobby was quiet, the host staff was hushed

And Jon even kicked back a sample of blush

Cuz what to their wondering eyes did appear

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver so lively and quick

They knew in an instant it must be St. Nick.

He rose from his sleigh and said, “Sorry it’s late,

But do you have any room for a party of eight?”

Then Jen flew to action, “Why Santa you know

We’d love to provide that, but the deer gotta go.

It’s a code violation. I hope you don’t mind.

But they really can’t stay unless they help with the blind.”

More rapid than eagles his answer it came

He nodded and shouted and called them by name.

“Out Dasher, out Dancer, out, Prancer and Vixen

Out Comet, and Cupid, and Donner, and Blitzen.

I love you like family, but this is a treat

I’ve had nothing but cookies, and I gotta eat.”

So the reindeer were led to the lot carefully

And some elves and dear Santa seated at 203.

They ordered up salad, and breadsticks, and soup

and settled themselves to revive and recoup.

They even got Mrs. Claus pasta to go,

And between you and I had a little Merlot.

They passed on dessert, cuz they had a long trip,

But Jen comped their meal, and they left a fat tip.

Then he folded his napkin and patted his paunch

And said to his elves, “Come on, we’ve got to launch.”

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘Ere he drove through the shrubs,

“Merry Christmas to all, and thanks for the grub.”

A magical evening for Santa and crew

And Santa left something to pass on to you.

His last Christmas message as he flew through the sky,

May your spirits be bright, and your guest count be high.