If one thing is sure, I have learned a lot about working with different people. In the professional world, you encounter people who have similar interests as you. Educational backgrounds, levels of maturity and a professional setting allow for an entirely different work environment, and if something or someone is bothering you, you have the option to shut your office door. However, in the restaurant industry, you work with the most random mix of people. For instance, in one shift I can work with a mom, dad, high school student, college student, college graduate, businessman, flight student, artist, culinary student, foreigner, or just an average person. When you throw all of us together, squeezing through a crowd of dishwashers, cooks, servers and dirty plates only tests your patience...and the only door you can shut is the freezer. Even the five gallon buckets of Blue Belle and moments of peace are not enough to entice me into an ice box. Close, but not enough.
As anyone knows or can assume, communication becomes a key component during a busy shift when it comes to the work flow and maintaining a high level of service...and what is even more important is that the communication is the RIGHT kind in order to run a successful shift. So, whenever we are busy and I speak to someone, I usually address them by their names or a shorthand name, and others address me the same way. For example, Derek would be "D." Megan would be "Meg." Ashley would be "Ash." You get the picture. It's quick, simple and people respond. However, when you refer to me as "Hun," "Darlin'," "Sweetheart," or "Baby," you will get an evil look, or most frequently, nothing, in return. Terms of endearment are only cute when they come out of the mouth of a hot cowboy or an old person from the deep south. An 18-year-old girl saying, "Thanks, Sweetheart," only gets on my nerves. "Sweetheart, can you drop this at table 24?" "Hun, did you refill 18?" "Baby, they woman at 53 wants some more bread." Well, that is enough to shut me down. Good luck with your shift, baby girl. Your annoying efforts to communicate with me have driven me to shun you...every shift.
However, in some cases, this works for some people...and by some, I mean about two. I have a friend that always uses the word "Boo." It works for her. She has the personality that allows for this. "I got that, Boo...What do you need, Boo...Thanks, Boo." Somehow, coming out of her mouth it doesn't bother me...maybe because we have been working together longer and actually have a friendship. So, I guess when it comes to people I am less comfortable with, chances of me tolerating them and their pet names are slim.
I am not too sure why this bothers me so much, but is becoming more and more prevalent where I work. It is even to the point where other servers are annoyed with it too. Not too long ago, I was in the alley with two other servers. Let's call these two girls Jane and Sue. Jane asked Sue for something, and Sue gave it to her. Jane replied, "Thanks, my little cupcake." Sue replied, "You're welcome, honey bunches of oats." I couldn't help laughing because it was obvious they were joking...since they were laughing too. So, it wasn't just me that noticed this trend going on, others couldn't stand it either. Jane and Sue made it obvious to the girls that coin these phrases. With clever, silly names and impeccable timing, they put on a show every time the girls are near us. Hopefully, they are starting to get the picture.
So, I will leave you with words from a wise man. As Merle Haggard would say, "You don't have to call me Darlin', Darlin'. You never even called me by my name." He may not be a hot cowboy, but the words sure do sound good coming out of his mouth.
Always at your service,
86 sense
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
See...it's not just me.
The whining, complaining, bad luck, bizarre experiences and furious moments you have read here are also shared by servers world-wide. One of my good friends that I work with had enough on night. She follows my blog and we talk about it often. I told her how good it felt to have an outlet to share with others the trials and tribulations of the service industry. Well, my friends, I wish I could take credit for this comic relief; however, I give all of the credit to my server/bartender friend. The following is a note (with minor edits by me) she wrote on Facebook after a night from hell.
To every patron who has ever asked "Are you still open?", received a hesitant reply, and then proceeded to stay an hour past close, you are the reason I smoke.
To every guest who has ordered coffee past close, when we have dumped the coffee already....and then requested refills, you are the reason I drink.
To every customer who has dared stay so long that all the lights are on in the restaurant, you are the reason my cursing is worse than a Katt Williams skit.
Servers do not equal servants. You know, funny thing is, most of us got into the service industry because we genuinely like people. After you come in with your "Sasha Fierce" attitude and endless demands, we hate the human race. All it takes is a little smile, people. The longer you camp at my table, the better tip I expect. Which is sad because typically, the campers tip between 10%-15%. So, not only have you not tipped me well, but you have kept me from having a table that might have actually done so. Thank you, kind sir, I truly appreciate your $8 tip on that $90 ticket. You are oh so generous! That $8 will probably buy me a beer as soon as I escape and prey upon a restaurant open later than my own.
If a server is lingering near your table with a broom and dustpan, it might be time for you to leave.
If your server takes the ticket off of your table, it might be time for you to leave.
If you feel as though someone may have crop dusted near your table and all the lights are on....it's definitely time for you to leave.
If you camp, tip me enough to cover your table rent.
Most of the people in the service industry drink, smoke and cuss like sailors. Not because the only people that wait tables are society's degenerates, but because you make us this way.
I was sweet and innocent when I began waiting tables. I now smoke a pack a day and drink bourbon like a 75 year old man and my momma wants to wash my mouth out with soap frequently. Thanks, Baton Rouge.
Through all this we gain the best sense of humor and most cynical outlook on people. It's our coping mechanism and our only outlet of entertainment. We know just the cutting remark to entertain our fellow servers at your expense! If a stream of servers passes your table all of a sudden, you may be Lt. Dan from Forrest Gump, the Swedish Chef from SNL or any other comical pop culture reference we can think of while you're dining. Most of the time it isn't in malice, it's only mean when you're a bitch.
Case in point, a kindly looking couple stopped me outside my restaurant tonight and asked how long we served food. Cringing inwardly (if you have to ask, get your food to-go), I told them we closed at 11pm. It was 10:30pm at the time. Delighted, they thanked me and went inside. I thought nothing of it until a ticket came up at the bar at 11:20 p.m. for two glasses of wine. This couple also forced us to brew a pot of coffee and had the audacity to be rude to their server. They didn't leave until 12:15. We close, as I politely informed them, at 11. Uhm, rude...?
Do not be discouraged reader, for underneath the cynicism, we love nice people. We love love love a table that willl throw a dirty joke or a "that's what she said" our way, it's like we've found one of our own. Servers are like cops, if you can make us laugh - not the fake server laugh but really laugh - you can get just about whatever you want. We love good tippers, funny people, people that used to be/are servers, or simply someone that acknowledges they know we are busting ass to make their dinner enjoyable. Those people keep us in the business. And the money of course.
I had a man harass me tonight about how to make his drink correctly and then tell me at the end of the night that I made it perfect and "that's why I mess with you, cause then you got it". I love this couple. I told them my name, I hope they request me next time they come. If you're real, I love you. Don't give me an attitude, I have to be nice to you, it isn't a level playing field.
Forgive me for my extensive rant, I just don't think people who haven't waited tables realize what they do sometimes. I love my job, I love most of the people I encounter and even the ones I don't love, give me incredible stories I can vent about later. No ma'am, we do not carry Taaka. Don't you usually ask for $20 on pump 2 when you purchase Taaka? This is not a Chevron last time I checked.
Just remember, next time you go out to eat, your server is not your servant and if you are a bitch, you will inevitably be the butt of a joke. No one wants that, reader, no one wants that.
Don't you just LOVE this? Thanks, friend!
To every patron who has ever asked "Are you still open?", received a hesitant reply, and then proceeded to stay an hour past close, you are the reason I smoke.
To every guest who has ordered coffee past close, when we have dumped the coffee already....and then requested refills, you are the reason I drink.
To every customer who has dared stay so long that all the lights are on in the restaurant, you are the reason my cursing is worse than a Katt Williams skit.
Servers do not equal servants. You know, funny thing is, most of us got into the service industry because we genuinely like people. After you come in with your "Sasha Fierce" attitude and endless demands, we hate the human race. All it takes is a little smile, people. The longer you camp at my table, the better tip I expect. Which is sad because typically, the campers tip between 10%-15%. So, not only have you not tipped me well, but you have kept me from having a table that might have actually done so. Thank you, kind sir, I truly appreciate your $8 tip on that $90 ticket. You are oh so generous! That $8 will probably buy me a beer as soon as I escape and prey upon a restaurant open later than my own.
If a server is lingering near your table with a broom and dustpan, it might be time for you to leave.
If your server takes the ticket off of your table, it might be time for you to leave.
If you feel as though someone may have crop dusted near your table and all the lights are on....it's definitely time for you to leave.
If you camp, tip me enough to cover your table rent.
Most of the people in the service industry drink, smoke and cuss like sailors. Not because the only people that wait tables are society's degenerates, but because you make us this way.
I was sweet and innocent when I began waiting tables. I now smoke a pack a day and drink bourbon like a 75 year old man and my momma wants to wash my mouth out with soap frequently. Thanks, Baton Rouge.
Through all this we gain the best sense of humor and most cynical outlook on people. It's our coping mechanism and our only outlet of entertainment. We know just the cutting remark to entertain our fellow servers at your expense! If a stream of servers passes your table all of a sudden, you may be Lt. Dan from Forrest Gump, the Swedish Chef from SNL or any other comical pop culture reference we can think of while you're dining. Most of the time it isn't in malice, it's only mean when you're a bitch.
Case in point, a kindly looking couple stopped me outside my restaurant tonight and asked how long we served food. Cringing inwardly (if you have to ask, get your food to-go), I told them we closed at 11pm. It was 10:30pm at the time. Delighted, they thanked me and went inside. I thought nothing of it until a ticket came up at the bar at 11:20 p.m. for two glasses of wine. This couple also forced us to brew a pot of coffee and had the audacity to be rude to their server. They didn't leave until 12:15. We close, as I politely informed them, at 11. Uhm, rude...?
Do not be discouraged reader, for underneath the cynicism, we love nice people. We love love love a table that willl throw a dirty joke or a "that's what she said" our way, it's like we've found one of our own. Servers are like cops, if you can make us laugh - not the fake server laugh but really laugh - you can get just about whatever you want. We love good tippers, funny people, people that used to be/are servers, or simply someone that acknowledges they know we are busting ass to make their dinner enjoyable. Those people keep us in the business. And the money of course.
I had a man harass me tonight about how to make his drink correctly and then tell me at the end of the night that I made it perfect and "that's why I mess with you, cause then you got it". I love this couple. I told them my name, I hope they request me next time they come. If you're real, I love you. Don't give me an attitude, I have to be nice to you, it isn't a level playing field.
Forgive me for my extensive rant, I just don't think people who haven't waited tables realize what they do sometimes. I love my job, I love most of the people I encounter and even the ones I don't love, give me incredible stories I can vent about later. No ma'am, we do not carry Taaka. Don't you usually ask for $20 on pump 2 when you purchase Taaka? This is not a Chevron last time I checked.
Just remember, next time you go out to eat, your server is not your servant and if you are a bitch, you will inevitably be the butt of a joke. No one wants that, reader, no one wants that.
Don't you just LOVE this? Thanks, friend!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Will you...
...marry me?
As if those words aren't scary enough, they are four words that I only want to hear from my boyfriend when the time is right...not when I am topping off your water. To me, a marriage proposal in a restaurant is overplayed, outdated and uncomfortable. However, you would be surprised by the gentleman who still think this setting trumps an intimate and private location. Unfortunately, I have been the third party in a few awkward marriage proposals where I work.
One night, a young couple, no older than twenty, sat in my section. They were dressed very nice, and I just assumed it was prom night. They were the typical young couple that you see in movies. They lovingly gazed into each others eyes across the table in a dimly lit restaurant, and he even ordered for her. After they finished, I placed the check on the table. As I passed the table again, I picked it up and went straight to the computer to complete the payment. On the check the guy, or should I say child, wrote, "I just asked her to marry me! She said yes! We're engaged!" Classy. Not really sure on company policy for proposal discounts. It was too late for me to sweet talk my manager for a free dessert. My only option was to graciously congratulate the newly engaged couple. I was pretty confused with the details of the proposal. How could I miss it? But, thankfully, they were eager to share the details with me...
They ordered dessert, our mouth-watering chocolate cake to be exact. She was in the restroom when I arrived at the table with it. Apparently, he placed the ring on top of the dessert, and she noticed it when she was shovling hot molten cake into her mouth. He popped the question. She said "yes." When I asked to see the ring, still smeared with hot fudge, I literally strained my eyes trying to see the bling. Love was oozing out of the booth, just like the hot fudge the ring was perched on. Diamonds, chocolate and true love: what more could a girl want? Well I can think of a few things...for starters, maybe 12 year-old molars, a diploma or even a drivers license. They were blissfully happy as they left, and to top it off, they held hands and pratically skipped out our doors....probably over to the mall to see a PG-13 movie to top off evening. Ah, young love.
Unfortunately, the next couple was not seated in my section. However, it was one of the most awkward proposal experiences. Again, on a slow night, an older couple was seated in a corner booth. They ordered a bottle of champagne. Hearing the top pop off a chilled bottle of champagne is one of my favorite sounds. To me, and any other server, nothing sounds better than "$cha ching$." Anyway, after enjoying the champagne for a bit, he led her down to the front of the restaurant. My friend and I were by a computer ringing in orders and chatting. The couple stood right in front of a table where two businessmen were enjoying their 16oz prime rib. He asked for everyone's attention and asked the "most beautiful woman in the world" to marry him. Charming, huh?
With au jus dripping down their chins, the two business guys had a front row seat to the romantic trainwreck. After he popped the question and she said yes, no one knew what to do. Applause was very faint, and everyone had the "oh no he didn't" look plastered on their faces. Some clapped, some laughed, some stared, and some looked at their date and threatened them never to do that. And the two businessmen, well, they just took a long sip of their Maker's and Coke then picked up their steak knife and finished eating. Thank goodness the server sensed the mood and scurried over to congratulate them while ushering them back to their table.
So, to all of you "gentlemen" out there, spare us. Spare your lady. And most importantly, spare yourself from being the talk of the restaurant...even though it provides the waitstaff with jokes for days. Again, I personally feel that proposals should be special, either private or surrounded by your loved ones...not surrounded by guys gnawing on medium rare steaks, annoying kids craving attention or someone hacking up a lung at the table next to you. I am not opposed to dinner after biting the bullet...as long as you factor a tip into the ring budget! We all love customers with happy stories, and if you're great, we're great!
Obviously, the restaurant proposal has been done...more than once. Come on, guys. Step it up. Be creative. Be unique. And most importantly, be sincere.
Always at your service,
86 sense
As if those words aren't scary enough, they are four words that I only want to hear from my boyfriend when the time is right...not when I am topping off your water. To me, a marriage proposal in a restaurant is overplayed, outdated and uncomfortable. However, you would be surprised by the gentleman who still think this setting trumps an intimate and private location. Unfortunately, I have been the third party in a few awkward marriage proposals where I work.
One night, a young couple, no older than twenty, sat in my section. They were dressed very nice, and I just assumed it was prom night. They were the typical young couple that you see in movies. They lovingly gazed into each others eyes across the table in a dimly lit restaurant, and he even ordered for her. After they finished, I placed the check on the table. As I passed the table again, I picked it up and went straight to the computer to complete the payment. On the check the guy, or should I say child, wrote, "I just asked her to marry me! She said yes! We're engaged!" Classy. Not really sure on company policy for proposal discounts. It was too late for me to sweet talk my manager for a free dessert. My only option was to graciously congratulate the newly engaged couple. I was pretty confused with the details of the proposal. How could I miss it? But, thankfully, they were eager to share the details with me...
They ordered dessert, our mouth-watering chocolate cake to be exact. She was in the restroom when I arrived at the table with it. Apparently, he placed the ring on top of the dessert, and she noticed it when she was shovling hot molten cake into her mouth. He popped the question. She said "yes." When I asked to see the ring, still smeared with hot fudge, I literally strained my eyes trying to see the bling. Love was oozing out of the booth, just like the hot fudge the ring was perched on. Diamonds, chocolate and true love: what more could a girl want? Well I can think of a few things...for starters, maybe 12 year-old molars, a diploma or even a drivers license. They were blissfully happy as they left, and to top it off, they held hands and pratically skipped out our doors....probably over to the mall to see a PG-13 movie to top off evening. Ah, young love.
Unfortunately, the next couple was not seated in my section. However, it was one of the most awkward proposal experiences. Again, on a slow night, an older couple was seated in a corner booth. They ordered a bottle of champagne. Hearing the top pop off a chilled bottle of champagne is one of my favorite sounds. To me, and any other server, nothing sounds better than "$cha ching$." Anyway, after enjoying the champagne for a bit, he led her down to the front of the restaurant. My friend and I were by a computer ringing in orders and chatting. The couple stood right in front of a table where two businessmen were enjoying their 16oz prime rib. He asked for everyone's attention and asked the "most beautiful woman in the world" to marry him. Charming, huh?
With au jus dripping down their chins, the two business guys had a front row seat to the romantic trainwreck. After he popped the question and she said yes, no one knew what to do. Applause was very faint, and everyone had the "oh no he didn't" look plastered on their faces. Some clapped, some laughed, some stared, and some looked at their date and threatened them never to do that. And the two businessmen, well, they just took a long sip of their Maker's and Coke then picked up their steak knife and finished eating. Thank goodness the server sensed the mood and scurried over to congratulate them while ushering them back to their table.
So, to all of you "gentlemen" out there, spare us. Spare your lady. And most importantly, spare yourself from being the talk of the restaurant...even though it provides the waitstaff with jokes for days. Again, I personally feel that proposals should be special, either private or surrounded by your loved ones...not surrounded by guys gnawing on medium rare steaks, annoying kids craving attention or someone hacking up a lung at the table next to you. I am not opposed to dinner after biting the bullet...as long as you factor a tip into the ring budget! We all love customers with happy stories, and if you're great, we're great!
Obviously, the restaurant proposal has been done...more than once. Come on, guys. Step it up. Be creative. Be unique. And most importantly, be sincere.
Always at your service,
86 sense
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