Groundhog day

Work somewhere long enough and you're bound to serve some of the same people a few times over. Regulars are nice, conversational, and usually tip well, especially if they specifically ask for your section. But every once in a while that manner of regular customer comes along who, though you may have waited on them many a time, still acts as though though they have no idea who you are, and so carries on the exact same conversation with you every. single. time.

Case in point: The Voice. This guy does the announcements and voice-overs for a local pageant of uppity white bitches and comes in with his wife and 3 teenage sons every few weeks. Now, it would be one thing if he just came in and let me serve him in the usual passive manner, but he is almost OVERLY conversational, and makes it a point to engage me in conversation that, out of the FOUR TIMES I've waited on them, always goes as follows:

(As I'm about to leave and put in salad orders)
V: Hey, now sugar, where are you from?
Me: (thinking: here we go...) Originally I'm from Michigan, but my family moved to a city about 3 hours south of here.
V: Michigan, really?! What part?
Me: (holding up my hand in that mitten-like imitation of my home state) Little town by the Wurtsmith Air Force Base.
V: (laughing) I love that - holding up your hand. It's funny how you guys all do it, too.
Me: (thinking: you've got some family in Muskegon)
V: I've got some family in Muskegon.

(I leave and return with the salads)
Me: Anything else I can get for you?
V: So, you go to [local uni.]?
Me: (uuuggghhhhh.....) Yeah, I do. Double theatre and english major. (thinking: Your nephew Chris who's trying to break into musical theatre in New York).
V: Hey, that's great. My nephew Chris is trying to break into.....blah blah blah.
Me: That's exciting.
V: THink you'll stick with it? You look like you've got it - you sure are pretty (nervous laughter from V's wife).
Me: In it for the long haul, sir.

(I leave, and then bring back their entreés)
V: You know, you seem very familiar to me.
Me: (thinking: I've been your waiter 4 times in the last month and a half.) I was the light board op for the annual parade of uppity white bitches.*
V: That's right. Hourglassy girl in the red dress!
Me: (sigh) ...yeah............

And so on and so forth. Once he changed it up and asked if I had a boyfriend, and then tried to set me up with his son (who must have been about 17), to which proposition I politely declined. The thing I find the most odd about this guy, though, is that the rest of his family remains relatively silent throughout the whole encounter. They say absolutely nothing, save for the occasional nervous laughter when V says something that could be seen as making me uncomfortable. Which makes me wonder.... do they remember me, and they're just letting him carry on with this existential farce for their own amusement? I suppose as long as they all keep being as nice as they are and tipping me as well as they do, I really shouldn't be bothered to care.

*Boy, how great would it have been if I'd actually called it that?