Advertising Now

There Will Be Waitresses

Radio advertising has gotten ridiculous—incendiary spots for monster-truck rallies and ladies’ nights at clubs. But surely the most appalling ads are for brunch.

Harvey Hudson (1949). Credit: Adolph B. Rice Studio.

Announcer #1: Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!

Announcer #2: Bruuunch.

Announcer #1: Come on down.

Announcer #2: Bring the family!

Announcer #1: We’ve got a whole lot of food.

Announcer #2: For a whole lot of money.

Announcer #1: We’ve got 40-egg omelets.

Announcer #2: Hash browns for days.

Announcer #1: Hash browns for weeks, even.

Announcer #2: The hash brown situation will not be a problem.

Announcer #1: We’ve got tomatoes.

Announcer #2: Sliced up nice.

Announcer #1: We’ve got onions.

Announcer #2: Chopped up in several different ways.

Announcer #1: Mushrooms

Announcer #2: Non-organic.

Announcer #1: Little cubes of ham.

Announcer #2: Pig ham.

Announcer #1: All going into cheese omelets.

Announcer #2: Cheese optional.

Announcer #1: Western omelets.

Announcer #2: Eastern attitude.

Announcer #1: There will be silverware.

Announcer #2: Or you can call it cutlery.

Announcer #1: If you’re Scottish or English or something.

Announcer #2: Or if you’re cruisin’ for a fuckin’ bruisin’.

Announcer #1: We’ve got salt.

Announcer #2: We’ve got pepper.

Announcer #1: We’ve got Spinderella.

Announcer #2: She’s a DJ.

Announcer #1: From when DJs still spun records.

Announcer #2: Not like that mp3 or Myspace business they do these days.

Announcer #1: It’s really a shame.

Announcer #2: Times change.

Announcer #1: We’ve got ice water!

Announcer #2: We’ve got pepperoni faucets.

Announcer #1: I think we’ve got hot sauce.

Announcer #2: For those who like to dabble a little south of the border. If you know what I’m talking about.

Announcer #1: There will be waitresses.

Announcer #2: I think they’re called servers now.

Announcer #1: Oh, I’m sorry.

Announcer #2: I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.

Announcer #1: We’re familiar with herbs.

Announcer #2: But not spices.

Announcer #1: We’ve got eggs Benedict Arnold.

Announcer #2: Your stomach will betray you!

Announcer #1: I see what you did there.

Announcer #2: We’ve got makings for noodles.

Announcer #1: But no actual noodles.

Announcer #2: Soy sauce!

Announcer #1: Ketchup, probably.

Announcer #2: Certainly yellow mustard.

Announcer #1: But no other kinds of mustard.

Announcer #2: You’ll take what we give you.

Announcer #1: Want seconds?

Announcer #2: Seconds are mandatory!

Announcer #1: Cherry pie.

Announcer #2: Greenish pie.

Announcer #1: Parcheesi pie.

Announcer #2: Now I just think you’re trying to one-up me.

Announcer #1: Don’t make this about you.

Announcer #2: Pie filled with remote controls and regret, fuck-faces!

Announcer #1: Bottomless cups of coffee.

Announcer #2: Bottomless busboys.

Announcer #1: Soups!

Announcer #2: We serve it in bowls.

Announcer #1: Small dishes of things.

Announcer #2: Potato salad?

Announcer #1: Soccer salad.

Announcer #2: Salad drippings.

Announcer #1: Laptop pizzas.

Announcer #2: Pizza shots.

Announcer #1: Shots of adrenaline!

Announcer #2: Administered by our in-house R.N.

Announcer #1: Her name is Cindy.

Announcer #2: I thought it was Sally. Which one is Sally?

Announcer #1: We’ve got open tables.

Announcer #2: So come on down!

Announcer #1: We’ve got all these eggs.

Announcer #2: And some quantity of tomatoes.

Announcer #1: They’re not going to eat themselves.

Announcer #2: Don’t forget about our updated hours.

Announcer #1: Midnight to two.

Announcer #2: Tuesdays!

Announcer #1: I thought it was Sundays.

Announcer #2: Sundays!

Announcer #1: You never listen to me.

Announcer #2: But I do.

Announcer #1: I’m rolling my eyes right now.

Announcer #2: They can’t see you.

Announcer #1: I can’t see you.

Announcer #2: What does that even mean?

Announcer #1: Bruuunch!

Seth Sawyers’ work has appeared or is forthcoming in the Baltimore Sun, The Morning News, The Rumpus, The Millions, River Teeth, Fourth Genre, Crab Orchard Review, Ninth Letter, Quarterly West , and elsewhere. He is at work on a novel about a 10-foot-tall office worker. He teaches writing classes at the University of Maryland Baltimore County and is an editor at Baltimore Review. He has been awarded scholarships to attend the Sewanee Writers’ Conference and Writers@Work. He is a former Emerging Writer-in-Residence at Penn State Altoona. More by Seth Sawyers