Jacob Lake - The Snowmobile Gang

Here at the lodge they say that one day in July brings in as much business as the entire winter season. We look forward to each weekend when fine gentlemen let their hair down after a hard weeks work and bring their snow sleds out for some fun. My first encounter with ‘The Snowmobile Gang,’ as we call them, was the night before New Year’s Eve. An older man with a shaggy beard and out of control hair walked up to the counter and asked to be seated in the dining room. I told him that we closed that room for the winter and that he was welcome to take a seat at the counter. To my surprise, he insisted that I let him go into the diner like they did the last time that they were here. Mike came to the rescue and told me that it was alright for groups to use the dining room. Huh. I apologized and led them to a table.

Jim seemed like a nice guy. He gave me a hard time for my many mistakes. I find that it’s when they don’t say anything that you know they’re really annoyed. Jim and his 5 other friends sat down at the table and started their beer tab. “I’ll take a Michelle Ultra” “I’ll have a Coors Light” “I want a Merlot” and so on. I wrote them down as best I could – having only heard of Coors before. I grabbed the cans and bottles from the alcohol cooler and set them on a tray. Kelly was shadowing me the whole time. He chuckled and suggested that some time I ought to learn my alcohol. I took the tray back to the table and started handing out their drinks. “I asked for Coors Light, and I told you three times… this Coors isn’t Light. Looks like you’re buying this one ;)” My apologies continued as I stumbled through the night. When I brought back the correct can I set it on the table next to the man and opened it up for him. When I returned to the table a few minutes later I noticed that there was beer all over the table. It was slowly leaking out of the top of the can. “What the…” I asked the man what was going on and he taught me about frozen beer. I guess the cooler was on too high and had turned all my alcohol to ice. I cleaned up the table and got another can from the back storage.

The Snowmobile Gang seemed to find my errors entertaining. Kelly helped to laugh it off by offering that it was my first couple days doing this. Jim seemed to take it well, and turned the conversation into questions about school, life, future plans and of course girls.

As I brought them their bill Jim suggested I get a little more practice in before tomorrow, ‘cause they could be back again. A few others started talking as Jim tried to introduce all of his friends to me. “Now this is Joyce, and this is Kevin, and my wife…” Everything else was lost. As they started to get up to leave, Jim spoke up again by saying, “And ya know what young one, I’ll make ya a little deal. If you can remember all our names tomorrow when we come, I’ll tip you one hundred percent.” I gave a few chuckles and told him that I hadn’t gotten all their names yet. “Sure you did, I just gave them to you.” I named those that I could… but the names of Jim’s wife and his Coors ‘Light’ friend sitting next to him were nonexistent. “Fine, I’ll give you a hint. Her name starts with a C, and his starts a T. It’s a Mormon name too so that one oughta be easy!” Christy? Thomas? I had nothing.

Then next day I told the crew what the deal was - all their names for 100% tip, or a big fat goose egg for failure. Their excitement died off a little when I informed them that I was missing two of their names. Ofa a few hours later came to the rescue. After having served them breakfast that morning, she handed me a piece of paper with each of their names written on it. “Now here Vita, go study it and bring home ‘da big one.” To help remember their names, I drew out a table and 6 chairs where each person was sitting last night and labeled them accordingly. Ofa quizzed me randomly throughout the afternoon trying to engrain their names into my brain. For the life of me it seemed as if I couldn’t remember the name of Jim’s wife.

When six o’clock rolled around sure enough Jim and his gang walked in the door. Jim poked fun and asked if the dining room was closed again. Their party had grown a few since last night, three new faces. They took their seats at the long table in the diner and called out their beers once again. “Now David, do you remember what I drink?” I could only remember the ‘Ultra’ part. “That’s right, Michelle Ultra.” “…and a Coors LIGHT for you, with a Merlot wine for you…” I gave them a small surprise with my memory of alcohols I’d just barely been introduced to. Overall dinner seemed to go well. I was still a little clumsy and not incredibly efficient with my motions, forgetting things and taking excessive trips back to the kitchen. After having taken down their order and dropped it off at the kitchen, I found out that we were all out of chicken strips. Oh no… Jim ordered those chicken strips… I slowly walked back to Jim in the diner. He could see the discomfort on my face. “Jim, I have some bad news for you…” I put my arm on his shoulder. “You don’ have no chicken tenders lef do ya.” I shook my head, awaiting what I feared to soon follow. However, to my surprise, it didn’t seem to faze him as he had a second choice out of his mouth within seconds.

Jim and his Snowmobile gang finished up their meals and asked for their ticket. Before I handed it over I asked Jim a question. “Jim, do you recall what you said last night about me remember all your names?” Silence. “Do you remember Tanner? And you Cory, and you Kevin, and Joyce…” I named every single one of them. Smiles and claps came from everyone at the table but Jim. I set the $152 ticket on the corner of the table and walked back out of the room. As I was leaving I could hear Jim asking, “What’d I say?” The table around him replied almost in unison, “You promised 100 percent tip if he remembered our names!” I was all smiles, ear to ear covering my entire face.