Waitresses are always apologizing. They say 'I'm sorry' when they are in a co-worker's way, a guest's way, or trying to pacify an angry customer, even if it's not their fault. See, waitresses get the blame for everything- if the wait time is too long, if the food is prepared incorrectly, or if the bussers didn't wipe the table good enough. Therefore, we have adopted this personality outside of the workplace too.
I wish I could let my happiness facade fall as soon as I step out the workplace doors, but really I can't. I've found that not many people hold the door open for me when I'm leaving. What's that about? Still in uniform- I'm not a human? I don't deserve the same level of respect? Well, at least I know you're ten percenters. You'll tip just enough so that YOU don't feel bad. After all, you're more important than anyone else, right?
When I walk to my car, I'm still in work attire and I view that as still representing my restaurant, so, I'm just as polite as I would be inside- letting other cars go before me, not talking on my phone until I'm in my car, smiling at people...
Even when I'm not in uniform, I find myself stopping to let other people go before me. For instance, in the grocery store, if I'm moving down an aisle and there is someone trying to go too, I'll let them go. What really gets me is that I'm a naturally aggressive person, so I'll sulk in the fact that I should just go ahead and be the bitch. Another example is traffic. I'll let someone pull out in front of me and then get pissed off when they move so SLOW! It's like, 'I let you go, have some common curtesy and go fast enough so we both can make the light!' but they don't, and I'm stuck there for another turn of the light. A punishment for my good nature.
However, in the midst of all this conceited, self-righteous inconsideration that I'm surrounded by, I occasionally get thrown a scrap or two. I'll get the guest who insists that I go first since I'm carrying trays (they'll leave 20-25%), or people who say 'no rush, take your time, I know you're busy' (15-30%), or when someone leaves me a big tip and I go back to thank them, they say 'your service was worth it' or even better 'you were worth it'. Those little rays of sunlight will glow even more brightly in contast to this dark serving world and I'll swallow my anger for one more day.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
CURSE you!
A few weeks ago, a co-worker walked onto the line, holding a credit card slip. He looked at bit dazed. I figured it was either an incredible tip, or he got stiffed. A couple servers followed him into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder.
So, I walk over and ask him, "What's up?"
He looks up at me and then turns the paper around so I can see it. I'm not sure what the tip was, I'd say something around 17%, but what was weird was the signature. It was signed: CURSE.
Now, none of us knew what to say. We looked at each other and then I started laughing. The laughter caught on. Soon, we were all laughing and making jokes. I knew he felt a little weird about it, and I tried to lighten the mood. I told him there were a LOT of weirdos out there, especially in a restaurant. It meant nothing. I'm not superstitious; I don't believe in curses. He doesn't either.
But still. Really people?! What is that supposed to mean? You're a freak! I hope your house burns down because you didn't stuff out your black candles.
Instead of writing 'thank you!!' on the check, with a smiley face, I wish we could erase the thank you and write 'fuck off'. Keep the smiley face on there though.
So, I walk over and ask him, "What's up?"
He looks up at me and then turns the paper around so I can see it. I'm not sure what the tip was, I'd say something around 17%, but what was weird was the signature. It was signed: CURSE.
Now, none of us knew what to say. We looked at each other and then I started laughing. The laughter caught on. Soon, we were all laughing and making jokes. I knew he felt a little weird about it, and I tried to lighten the mood. I told him there were a LOT of weirdos out there, especially in a restaurant. It meant nothing. I'm not superstitious; I don't believe in curses. He doesn't either.
But still. Really people?! What is that supposed to mean? You're a freak! I hope your house burns down because you didn't stuff out your black candles.
Instead of writing 'thank you!!' on the check, with a smiley face, I wish we could erase the thank you and write 'fuck off'. Keep the smiley face on there though.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Did I Ask that Question?
"Hi, you two!" I say, placing down two coasters.
"Good. How are you?" Is the response.
Did I ask that question? No, but that's the automated response that I get from half my tables. HALF of my tables. 50%! That's a HUGE amount!
I've concluded that most servers greet their tables saying "Hi, how are you?". I don't. I say hi. I say something stupid about the weather. I say something about the DVD I see laying on your table, shopping bags, holidays, but I've found that 'how are you' implies so much.
1. Frankly, I don't care how you are. Call it selfish, call it unkind, but do they want to know how I am? Not really. It's a pleasantry that is said mindlessly so we can feel good about ourselves. I'm not mindless and I don't have to ask that question to feel good about myself.
2. I've had tables that go into a lot of detail about how they really are. I don't want to know your wife is cheating on you. I don't care that your dog died, that's life, but God forbid that I tell you how I am- that I'm pulling a double, or I feel like my feet are bleeding, and-
3. I'm not changing my greeting so you don't feel like a fuckwad. Open your ears, listen, be self-aware, not robotic.
When a guest answers me with "good, how are you", or even less considerate "good" (then silence), then I know you're not a good tipper. Period. You're a moron. Go get sterilized and then go home.
"Good. How are you?" Is the response.
Did I ask that question? No, but that's the automated response that I get from half my tables. HALF of my tables. 50%! That's a HUGE amount!
I've concluded that most servers greet their tables saying "Hi, how are you?". I don't. I say hi. I say something stupid about the weather. I say something about the DVD I see laying on your table, shopping bags, holidays, but I've found that 'how are you' implies so much.
1. Frankly, I don't care how you are. Call it selfish, call it unkind, but do they want to know how I am? Not really. It's a pleasantry that is said mindlessly so we can feel good about ourselves. I'm not mindless and I don't have to ask that question to feel good about myself.
2. I've had tables that go into a lot of detail about how they really are. I don't want to know your wife is cheating on you. I don't care that your dog died, that's life, but God forbid that I tell you how I am- that I'm pulling a double, or I feel like my feet are bleeding, and-
3. I'm not changing my greeting so you don't feel like a fuckwad. Open your ears, listen, be self-aware, not robotic.
When a guest answers me with "good, how are you", or even less considerate "good" (then silence), then I know you're not a good tipper. Period. You're a moron. Go get sterilized and then go home.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
10% Day
I wake up at 9:30. I'm thankful that I don't have to wake up to my screeching alarm clock- not so thankful for the two inches of snow on the roads. Though I've always liked playing in the snow, as I've gotten older, I've found that I'm not too fond of driving in it. So, I have to leave early. Already, I'm late.
I stumble into the bathroom and knock my hair clip into the toilet. I roll my eyes and grab it out, avoiding a shit-stain on the porcelain. I make a mental note to clean the whole bathroom later. I hurry to dry my hair and I actually leave at the time I needed to.
When I get into the building, I know it's going to be bad, because they are cutting the floor already. All the openers are leaving. After a half-hour, I get a table. A couple- a app, and two entrees. They were pretty cool and left me 10 on a 35. If you're out there, THANKS!
After that, it was all downhill. Lunching ladies with coffees. Couple with babies. Then everyone is cut down- two servers left on- me and a co-worker who I call Playa.
Question of the day at work: would you rather have a drop-dead gorgeous/handsome partner, who is mediocre at best in bed, or a kinky, fun-loving gal, who can rock your world in bed, who is only mediocre looking?
Answers: All said the fun-loving gal.
I stumble into the bathroom and knock my hair clip into the toilet. I roll my eyes and grab it out, avoiding a shit-stain on the porcelain. I make a mental note to clean the whole bathroom later. I hurry to dry my hair and I actually leave at the time I needed to.
When I get into the building, I know it's going to be bad, because they are cutting the floor already. All the openers are leaving. After a half-hour, I get a table. A couple- a app, and two entrees. They were pretty cool and left me 10 on a 35. If you're out there, THANKS!
After that, it was all downhill. Lunching ladies with coffees. Couple with babies. Then everyone is cut down- two servers left on- me and a co-worker who I call Playa.
Question of the day at work: would you rather have a drop-dead gorgeous/handsome partner, who is mediocre at best in bed, or a kinky, fun-loving gal, who can rock your world in bed, who is only mediocre looking?
Answers: All said the fun-loving gal.
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