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
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Don't Hate...appreciate.
Hello, y'all. Hope you are enjoying this awesome spring weather!
Instead of venting today, I want to talk about the people who have actually made my day.
Last summer, a older man was seated in my section. He told me he was waiting for his family. He ordered a martini and two starters. When his family arrived, they ordered drinks and one more starter. I swear, our smoked salmon dip is almost as addicting as Diet Coke for some people. Anyway, they were super friendly throughout the whole meal, not to mention they all ordered high priced steaks and a rack of ribs for everyone to share (which results in a lovely bill).
Because I have the ability to have a conversation with anyone, I was working my magic at their table. I had a beach trip coming up, and I figured since they were a nice family, maybe my charisma would impact my tip! So, I started talking to his daughters....it was obvious that they were "daddy's girls." They were in college, and we casually chatted about rush because they were both in the same sorority....BINGO. So am I. However, one of them had a serious illness. (I had NO idea until a few weeks ago.) Overall, it was easy-breezey and actually pleasant....I dropped them bill, said my good-bye speech and hoped for the best. That was it. The hostess came to clean the table and set up for another round.
You see, when hostesses clean the tables after the guests leave, they fold the receipt and write our names on it. Well, this particular hostess came straight up to me with huge eyes and said, "How much should a person tip on $209?" (That was the price of the bill). Normally I would just double the tax and say about $50. She asked me to guess how much they left me. Usually, when we play this game, the answer is either A) nothing or B) not enough.
So I guessed $40...she said "higher." $50? "Higher." $70? "Higher." $100? "Bingo." Who the heck would leave a $100 tip? I was elated. I knew I charmed them and all...but I didn't expect such a generous return! It's safe to say that I didn't stress too much about tips for the rest of that slow Wednesday night.
Now, a few weeks ago, a woman was seated in my section during a busy lunch. She was waiting on her brother. When he arrived, I knew instantly that it was the selfless tipper. I didn't know if he remembered me, so I didn't say anything. I debated on telling him thank you or even hugging him when he left....but at the end of the meal, he found me instead.
He explained to me that one of his daughters was very ill when I waited on them in the summer. Their entire family thought I was so kind and friendly when I was talking to them, especially when we were talking about sorority stuff....which is weird because I could go on about that for days since it was my life for four years! Anyway, she was struggling with brain cancer. He said I brighten their evening with my personality and interest in their lives.
It's amazing how little things can go such a long way. Now, that huge tip really doesn't seem so important. And neither do the generous ones he leaves me every time he comes in and asks for me. What's important is that kindness, friendliness or even a simple smile has the ability to make someone's day. Every time I think my days as a server couldn't get any worse, I remind myself that there are people in the world with bigger problems than mine.
Always at your service,
86 sense
Instead of venting today, I want to talk about the people who have actually made my day.
Last summer, a older man was seated in my section. He told me he was waiting for his family. He ordered a martini and two starters. When his family arrived, they ordered drinks and one more starter. I swear, our smoked salmon dip is almost as addicting as Diet Coke for some people. Anyway, they were super friendly throughout the whole meal, not to mention they all ordered high priced steaks and a rack of ribs for everyone to share (which results in a lovely bill).
Because I have the ability to have a conversation with anyone, I was working my magic at their table. I had a beach trip coming up, and I figured since they were a nice family, maybe my charisma would impact my tip! So, I started talking to his daughters....it was obvious that they were "daddy's girls." They were in college, and we casually chatted about rush because they were both in the same sorority....BINGO. So am I. However, one of them had a serious illness. (I had NO idea until a few weeks ago.) Overall, it was easy-breezey and actually pleasant....I dropped them bill, said my good-bye speech and hoped for the best. That was it. The hostess came to clean the table and set up for another round.
You see, when hostesses clean the tables after the guests leave, they fold the receipt and write our names on it. Well, this particular hostess came straight up to me with huge eyes and said, "How much should a person tip on $209?" (That was the price of the bill). Normally I would just double the tax and say about $50. She asked me to guess how much they left me. Usually, when we play this game, the answer is either A) nothing or B) not enough.
So I guessed $40...she said "higher." $50? "Higher." $70? "Higher." $100? "Bingo." Who the heck would leave a $100 tip? I was elated. I knew I charmed them and all...but I didn't expect such a generous return! It's safe to say that I didn't stress too much about tips for the rest of that slow Wednesday night.
Now, a few weeks ago, a woman was seated in my section during a busy lunch. She was waiting on her brother. When he arrived, I knew instantly that it was the selfless tipper. I didn't know if he remembered me, so I didn't say anything. I debated on telling him thank you or even hugging him when he left....but at the end of the meal, he found me instead.
He explained to me that one of his daughters was very ill when I waited on them in the summer. Their entire family thought I was so kind and friendly when I was talking to them, especially when we were talking about sorority stuff....which is weird because I could go on about that for days since it was my life for four years! Anyway, she was struggling with brain cancer. He said I brighten their evening with my personality and interest in their lives.
It's amazing how little things can go such a long way. Now, that huge tip really doesn't seem so important. And neither do the generous ones he leaves me every time he comes in and asks for me. What's important is that kindness, friendliness or even a simple smile has the ability to make someone's day. Every time I think my days as a server couldn't get any worse, I remind myself that there are people in the world with bigger problems than mine.
Always at your service,
86 sense
Monday, March 14, 2011
Check out other service industry blogs...
I have included a few service industry blogs that I find entertaining, and unfortunately, true. Although my stories are a bit "G-rated" and not too harsh, these people have no filter. One thing I have learned from these blogs is that there are people out there who have it worse than I do at times!
http://www.igotstiffed.com/
*This is one so funny, but again, has no censor! I submitted my blog to them, and hopefully they will post it. If not, I am going to comment like crazy on other storys...while always including my link :)
http://waiterpay.com/blog/
*More informative rather than enteraining. This is geared more towards service industry workers rather than those who just like to laugh.
http://waiterrant.net/?p=1597
*This is just one post; however, if you go to the homepage (http://www.waiterrant.net/), read the archives. Obviously, this blogger got a book deal out of his stories. Ah, the power of social media!
http://www.stuckserving.com/
http://www.stainedapron.com/
Oh, and for the record...remember my Valentine's Day drama? Well, this past Saturday I worked six hours, not 15 hours, and made more than I did on Valentine's Day. See something wrong with this? Much love for people with restaurant etiquette.
Also, is the new font color and style easier to read on your computer? Please comment!
Promise to update soon. I am buried under mounds of research, midterms and laundry.
Always at your service,
86 sense
http://www.igotstiffed.com/
*This is one so funny, but again, has no censor! I submitted my blog to them, and hopefully they will post it. If not, I am going to comment like crazy on other storys...while always including my link :)
http://waiterpay.com/blog/
*More informative rather than enteraining. This is geared more towards service industry workers rather than those who just like to laugh.
http://waiterrant.net/?p=1597
*This is just one post; however, if you go to the homepage (http://www.waiterrant.net/), read the archives. Obviously, this blogger got a book deal out of his stories. Ah, the power of social media!
http://www.stuckserving.com/
http://www.stainedapron.com/
Oh, and for the record...remember my Valentine's Day drama? Well, this past Saturday I worked six hours, not 15 hours, and made more than I did on Valentine's Day. See something wrong with this? Much love for people with restaurant etiquette.
Also, is the new font color and style easier to read on your computer? Please comment!
Promise to update soon. I am buried under mounds of research, midterms and laundry.
Always at your service,
86 sense
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Look out, World.
Lately, the weather has been awesome! It's cool, sunny and perfect for dining outside. And most importantly, it is the perfect weather for crawfish! So, last night my friend and I decided to head to a popular restaurant for a few drinks and some hot, boiled crawfish.
This is besides the point, but it is relevant to this story...
If you follow me regularly, you be wondering what "86 sense" means. Well, in the restaurant world, when something is "86'ed," it means we are out of it. Conversely, when something is "68'ed," it means we have it again. Just some quick restaurant lingo for those who might be confused. Therefore, my name represents all of the people who lack common sense when dining...as well as my state of mind while serving these people in hopes to get on their level and truly understand them.
Anyway, the theme of our dining experience last night was definitely "86 sense." Here is the play-by-play...
Dressed in running shorts, t-shirts, hats and tennis shoes, we walked into the restaurant ready to eat some crawfish. We walked up to the hostess and asked to be seated on the balcony. She said it was full; however, before we walked in we assessed the situation, and there were clearly four open tables. So, she goes upstairs to look. When she comes back down, she tells us that there are tables but no chairs because others had taken them. Also, I should mention that there were five hostesses.
Knowing that there was availability, we asked if we could just go up there and look for ourselves...and we were so nice the whole time. I am not sure what part of this statement was hard to understand, but they looked like someone asked them to solve an impossible math problem.
Walking away, we just giggled about it because it was so awkward because they were literally so dumb. Guess you just had to be there to understand these girls. Next, we walked out on to the balcony and had 4 tables, like I suspected before, with...wait for it...
Chairs. That makes the first "86 sense" experience. Then, our waitress comes.
No "hi girls, how are y'all?" or "what can I get for you tonight?"...she just walks up and asks "So, are y'all just gonna chill tonight?"
"86 sense" experience number two.
Do I look like a girl who comes to a restaurant to "just chill"? No, I am dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with every intention of pigging-out...and it is obvious like I like to eat!
We ordered our drinks, and when she returned we ordered. This is how it went:
Me: "Yes, we want the mozzarella sticks, then we would each like the crawfish."
Server: "OK, so two mozzarella sticks, and two crawfish?"
Me: "No, we want one mozzarella and each want crawfish."
Server: "Oh yeah, that's whats up!"
"86 sense" experience number three.
Seriously? I know this is a casual place, but come on, girl. Be mindful of what you say to your guests...you never know who you are serving.
Well, after about 15 minutes, no cheese sticks! They are listed under the appetizer section, and we figured she knew her menu. Since my friend and I are both servers, we didn't want to be those obnoxious women who flag you down from across the restaurant...so I somehow managed to catch her attention as she was walking by in her constant state of confusion.
I told her that we wanted it as a starter...since it was listed as one. She played it cool and managed to get them within the next minute. Before we could take a bite, there she was, holding our crawfish. Keep in mind that our table was about two feet by two feet, and we have no room for our feast. All we could do was laugh it off.
"86 sense" experience number four.
Thank goodness she had one thing going for her: refill efficiency. Before I ordered, I rethought my decision because I didn't want to be stuck sucking ice cubes while eating crawfish. The things she would ask us and her actions were just comical. And after our responses she would always say, "Good. Great." It was so funny.
Then came time to split our checks. I was nervous. We told her to split the appetizer and dessert between the two of us. She split everything in half....but put them on the same ticket:
1/2 cheese sticks
1/2 cheese sticks
1 crawfish
1 drink
Last time I checked, two halves make a whole, right? "86 sense" experience number five.
Probably won't ever go back to that location, unless I want to be entertained by bad table side mannerisms. From the rude and blind fleet of hostesses, to the ditsy and scatterbrained server, the whole dining experience was like being punked. Thank goodness the crawfish were good.
Usually, if people lack the "book smarts," they can usually fend for themselves with common sense. As for these hostesses/servers, they lack both. Look out, World.
Always at your service,
86 sense
This is besides the point, but it is relevant to this story...
If you follow me regularly, you be wondering what "86 sense" means. Well, in the restaurant world, when something is "86'ed," it means we are out of it. Conversely, when something is "68'ed," it means we have it again. Just some quick restaurant lingo for those who might be confused. Therefore, my name represents all of the people who lack common sense when dining...as well as my state of mind while serving these people in hopes to get on their level and truly understand them.
Anyway, the theme of our dining experience last night was definitely "86 sense." Here is the play-by-play...
Dressed in running shorts, t-shirts, hats and tennis shoes, we walked into the restaurant ready to eat some crawfish. We walked up to the hostess and asked to be seated on the balcony. She said it was full; however, before we walked in we assessed the situation, and there were clearly four open tables. So, she goes upstairs to look. When she comes back down, she tells us that there are tables but no chairs because others had taken them. Also, I should mention that there were five hostesses.
Knowing that there was availability, we asked if we could just go up there and look for ourselves...and we were so nice the whole time. I am not sure what part of this statement was hard to understand, but they looked like someone asked them to solve an impossible math problem.
Walking away, we just giggled about it because it was so awkward because they were literally so dumb. Guess you just had to be there to understand these girls. Next, we walked out on to the balcony and had 4 tables, like I suspected before, with...wait for it...
Chairs. That makes the first "86 sense" experience. Then, our waitress comes.
No "hi girls, how are y'all?" or "what can I get for you tonight?"...she just walks up and asks "So, are y'all just gonna chill tonight?"
"86 sense" experience number two.
Do I look like a girl who comes to a restaurant to "just chill"? No, I am dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with every intention of pigging-out...and it is obvious like I like to eat!
We ordered our drinks, and when she returned we ordered. This is how it went:
Me: "Yes, we want the mozzarella sticks, then we would each like the crawfish."
Server: "OK, so two mozzarella sticks, and two crawfish?"
Me: "No, we want one mozzarella and each want crawfish."
Server: "Oh yeah, that's whats up!"
"86 sense" experience number three.
Seriously? I know this is a casual place, but come on, girl. Be mindful of what you say to your guests...you never know who you are serving.
Well, after about 15 minutes, no cheese sticks! They are listed under the appetizer section, and we figured she knew her menu. Since my friend and I are both servers, we didn't want to be those obnoxious women who flag you down from across the restaurant...so I somehow managed to catch her attention as she was walking by in her constant state of confusion.
I told her that we wanted it as a starter...since it was listed as one. She played it cool and managed to get them within the next minute. Before we could take a bite, there she was, holding our crawfish. Keep in mind that our table was about two feet by two feet, and we have no room for our feast. All we could do was laugh it off.
"86 sense" experience number four.
Thank goodness she had one thing going for her: refill efficiency. Before I ordered, I rethought my decision because I didn't want to be stuck sucking ice cubes while eating crawfish. The things she would ask us and her actions were just comical. And after our responses she would always say, "Good. Great." It was so funny.
Then came time to split our checks. I was nervous. We told her to split the appetizer and dessert between the two of us. She split everything in half....but put them on the same ticket:
1/2 cheese sticks
1/2 cheese sticks
1 crawfish
1 drink
Last time I checked, two halves make a whole, right? "86 sense" experience number five.
Probably won't ever go back to that location, unless I want to be entertained by bad table side mannerisms. From the rude and blind fleet of hostesses, to the ditsy and scatterbrained server, the whole dining experience was like being punked. Thank goodness the crawfish were good.
Usually, if people lack the "book smarts," they can usually fend for themselves with common sense. As for these hostesses/servers, they lack both. Look out, World.
Always at your service,
86 sense
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Seriously?
What will they think of next?
Read this article...let me know your thoughts!
http://taintedgreen.com/green-gadgets/ireplace-restaurants-dump-printed-menus-and-staff-for-ipads/000938/kr-13
Always at your service,
86 sense
Read this article...let me know your thoughts!
http://taintedgreen.com/green-gadgets/ireplace-restaurants-dump-printed-menus-and-staff-for-ipads/000938/kr-13
Always at your service,
86 sense
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