Friday, February 27, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
He's usually a pretty cool headed guy (I mentioned him in my last post, he uses the term "alrighty" like I do). Today however, it seemed as if the whole world was prodding at him... much the way a small child would take a stick and poke at a dead cat for an hour. Just poking... and poking.
I was waiting on knuckle headed tourists today. I spent half my time waiting, and half fielding questions about the restaurant's history, retail products, the town, and local events. I had my hands full and people were just being impatient in general. Everyone who is in the industry knows what a joy it can be to wait on impatient people.
Well, when I am caught up in my own little busy world, I seldom take the time to think about how other coworkers are probably having the same head aches I am (unless, I am running their food, or dropping drinks for them, helping to get them out of the weeds, etc). I notice even less when the host stand is slammed.
Today we were deep on the waiting list, and the host stand was packed. My coworkers were busy busing tables, and unfortunately cleaning up my dishes and glassware (which I am usually anal about) that should have already been pre-bussed by yours truly.
As the rush was dissipating, the coworker in question greeted one of our last five tops on the wait. He explained to them it'd just be a moment for him to finish setting their table up, and he'd be back to seat them. He also briefly explained that he was headed over to wipe the table down and clear the remaining dishes. He strolled over with towel in hand... loads the dishes onto the tray... wipes the table... turns around... and is face to face with five eager and worried looking people.
This is probably the straw that broke the camel's back for him. Moments later we meet up at the back of the restaurant (him carrying dishes to the kitchen, me picking up drinks). He stops me.
Him: "Have fun with table 25! They are the umpteenth table that can't fucking listen!"
Me: "Ha ha! What the hell happened?"
Him: "Oh you know... I greet them, tell them I'll be right back to seat them, ask them TO PLEASE WAIT! So... I go over start busing the table, and what the fuck do I turn around to? Five idiots, who followed me to the table, and stood there while I cleaned it!"
Me: "Oh, I hate that."
Him: "Yeah, at least this shit-show is almost over."
His last comment means that our shift was ending. The night crew was about 20 minutes from coming onto the floor. It wouldn't be a moment too soon either, from the day we were all having. We were thankful to have relief.
Maybe we should get the words "One Moment Please," on the backs of our work shirts. This way when the table busing is happening or when the server is with another table, the shirt should say it all. Although... we know that no one reads the menu... so what would make me think they would even bother to read a shirt? It's a vicious cycle.
(All rights and credit of the above image belong to:http://www.everystockphoto.com/photo.php?imageId=1121428)
Thursday, February 12, 2009
This post was actually inspired by one of my other favorite blogs. It was a post entitled "Martinis and bullshit," by the Insane Waiter. I read this one and laughed, because this has happened a lot to me. I pulled this one from memory. Make sure to check out the Insane Waiter.
It was a typical Sunday, a busy lunch rush. The crowd consisted of cheap after church goers and old people who are impossible to please (they always are!). A big top is seated in my section, I hurry over to greet them, and get them started. I make sure to efficiently work my way through this table so it doesn't slow down my section. I get their drink order and put it in. Then I'm off to tend to my other tables.
Moments later, I head back to the table. I had just retrieved their drinks from the bar and I begun dropping them off. As I work my way around the table, one lady says "Oh... this Diet Pepsi is flat." A little irritated, I apologize and grab the drink back from her. I don't want to ruin my timing for my section, and this is how it always starts. No big deal, I just need to get a new one, and it'll be fine. I'll lose a minute, but it's OK.
I rush over to the bar. After a moment of trying to get the bartender's attention, he spots me. He finishes up with the current customer and comes over. He asks, "what's up?" I explain that the lady told me that the diet Pepsi was flat and would like a new one. "It always pours that way. I don't know why, but we do get complaints about the diet from time to time. I'll pour it again, but it'll be the same." He pours the new drink, hands it to me with a half smirk, and I'm off.
"Alrighty (a stupid word another co-worker and I use when schmoozing), try this one out."
Her: "Um... no, that's not much better."
Me: "I'm terribly sorry, let me try that again" (I'm not sorry at all, I'm annoyed... oh well).
Her: (awkward look) "Good idea."
Me: "..." (biting lip)
I return once again to the bar. He looks at me, and shakes his head. I don't want to bug him again. I stand there for a minute, my time is starting to slip. I half shrug at him, he answers in kind. I pull the straw from the drink, grab a new one, and return.
Me: "Let's try this one more time." (I hand her the same exact drink)
Her: (Trying the drink) "That's a little..."
Me: "Is that one better?"
Her: "Yes, that's a lot better. Thank you."