Alright, alright... let's get a few things out of the way before I start:
- Yes, I work in the service industry. I brought this on myself... it's the nature of the restaurant business.
- I am lucky to have a job right, esp. one that pays way more than minimum wage.
- People don't know any better, and we should understand that they don't know.
But still (yes, I started a sentence with the word 'but'), can't they find some kind of happy medium? I mean you don't have to be a seasoned restaurant patron for me to like you, but I don't deal well with complete idiots! Meet me half way and we're good!
Ok, what the hell am I babbling about? I'll tell you. It's tourist season and contrary to the economic state of the nation, they are still out in droves. Rockin' the doors right off the hinges at my restaurant.
Overall, tourists are great. Both for my financial well being, as well as my social well being while at work. I meet tons of really nice, interesting people. They bring with them great stories, travel recommendations, and often great tips. This, however, doesn't stop the few from ruining my day sometimes.
Today, for instance was one of the more... well, shitty days. I hate being a server sometimes. Here are few reasons why:
- Hit a two hour "in the weeds" situation. A 13 top, coupled with an ill timed server phase, and kitchen screw up. (People say things like "dreams really do come true." Well... apparently so do nightmares. Esp. waiting nightmares.)
- A six top, with two hipster-ish kids (ages around 14 or so), who wouldn't look at me or answer my questions. Look, if you don't want to be social, that's fine. Tell me what you want and I'll go get your food and drinks started. No small talk. What I don't need is two deaf-mute, skinny/pale boys, who wear girl jeans and Jason Marz style hats... wasting my time while I'm in the weeds.
- While we're on the topic of things I don't need... I also don't need 12 year old girls who point to menu items without speaking. It's not a problem for me personally if they don't talk, as long as we're clear on the order. When you point to an item, then I say the menu item's name out loud (to confirm the order), and then place the order... don't send the food back when I come with the very same item you pointed to, and I verbally confirmed, telling me (oh, now she can speak just fine right?) it's the wrong item.
- Don't be a 13 top, who staggers in two people at a time, for a half an hour. If you are those people, don't tell me your going to wait for the rest of your party to order. If you do choose to wait for the rest of your party, don't get all excited about getting your food order in when you see me get double sat. If you still choose to be these people (who ordered when they had a total of six of the 13, but didn't want their order to fall behind those of my new tables beginning to sit), don't rush me over saying "We're ready! We're ready, can we get our order in?!" Then when I come over, you take up 10 minutes of my time (when I should be greeting my new tables) to then look at the menu. IF YOU STILL MUST BE THOSE PEOPLE, don't make me repeat your side options, soup of the day, and salad dressings six individual times!
- As soon as I turn around from my 13 top of short bus riders, don't be the middle aged idiot who scowls at me and asks "Ah, can we order or what?" Listen chief... I'm fucking busy, pissed, and am not ignoring you on purpose.
- How about the kitchen? Well, I guess I can give the kitchen a bit of break, seeing as they were just as busy as I was. All the same, don't send my table a burger that is pretty much rare, when they ordered it medium. Pink in the middle is fine, the whole damn thing pink... not so much. (I wouldn't run it, if we're all pink. It wasn't... but once you got past the outer layer that was visible... it was pretty pink.)
- I clocked off two hours after the late shift staff arrived. Due to unbelievable side work and silverware rolling complications.
I know... get used to right? Summer is upon us. It's all good, and I'll be fine tomorrow. Today, I was just filled restaurant rage and needed to vent to the old blog. The money will be good for the next few months, and I'll compromise with all the idiots summer has to offer... to pay off some debt.
Remember... Cook it, and they come.