You get ready.
You buy that kebab, so you don't slobber over your customer's meals when you're serving them.
You buy a pack of cigarettes, because you were incapable of rolling your own (via last post).
You buy a big fucking cola to keep you company in the night. You wouldn't believe how easy it is to run low on sugar in your bloodstream when working as a waiter.
And then... when you finish the cigarette, take a sip of that oversugared pitch black shit and when you finally at long last arrive at your work...
...they send you home. Not enough customers tonight.
Now that, children, is Universal Irony at it's best.
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