Co-woker Restaurant Rage

Can you cover my shift?
This is absolutely one of the most Rage provoking things on my list of piss-me-offs. Co-workers last minute shift covering pleads. It happens all the time in the restaurant business, and it becomes annoying after the second time it happens to you.

Ok, let's get one thing straight first of all. If the schedule for the week goes up, and you ask me to cover (or trade, or whatever the hell it is that you need) Friday's shift, but you ask me on Monday... this is totally acceptable. But this is never the way it happens is it?

Sure enough, it'll be Thursday at 3:00 pm and a server will have a 4:00pm shift that day, and make the call. What in the hell, on God's green earth, makes you think I want to forfeit my day off to cover your shift in 60 minutes? (Did you notice how I used God and Hell in one sentence? That's some biblical talent right there!) Seriously, that short of notice.

I work with this one guy in particular. He always starts wheeling and dealing shifts as soon as the new schedule is posted, and good for him! More power to him. Here's what always ends up happening though. He'll work it so he has four days off, but in order to do this, he has to work like four or five double shifts throughout the week. Then when we get to those days he's on his double, he starts asking if he can be the first off when we phase. "Yeah, it's like my third double in a row... I'm just really tired."

Even worse?! Usually it's some last minute bullshit trip they want to take with a buddy, or some no-name concert they forgot to request time off for. The reason that pisses me off the most though? The HANGOVER! Look, I get it. I'm in an industry of drug abusers and alcoholics... I am. And they're not the evil type of people that are portrayed in film. They are lovable, they are fun, and they are your friends. I'm telling you though, if you drink that 7th cocktail at 2:15am, knowing you have morning shift tomorrow... I am the wrong guy to be calling you degenerate bastard!

What do you guys think? I know you've been there. Share some stories!

Red Lobster Blog

The Red Lobster Blog

Ok, so I stumbled across this great blog recently. It's called the Red Lobster blog. The author, much like myself blogs about all toils of the restaurant industry and stupid customer encounters as well.

I like the style of this author and will read the blog on a regular basis. Posts range from bathroom stall sex, to homeless people, to dumb customer encounters, and many more fun little restaurant moments. Make sure to check it out for yourself (click the title link)! Shout out to the Red Lobster Blog.

Restaurant Sidework

Ahhhh, Side work

Good old side work, you've got to love it. If you don't work in the restaurant business, then you might find yourself unfamiliar with the term side work. Side work is simply a series of restocking, cleaning, preparing, straightening, and related tasks to having the restaurant ready for the next rush.

Side work often consists of wiping down condiments, and refilling them (or Marrying them). Restocking plates, silverware, napkins, to go boxes, condiments, and the like. Maybe it's making a new batch of coffee or brewing some ice tea for the next round. Side work is also a lot of cleaning. When you work with food and liquids, there is often a lot to clean up after. Side work is a necessity at the beginning of a shift, before the shift change, and when closing down the restaurant.

For servers, bartenders, and kitchen staff a like, side work is often all that stands between them and punching the clock. It is one of those little things that is often annoying, but needed. Ah side work... you've got to love it!

Outta Time

Summer Restaurant Rage!

I guess summer time is upon us. It is just the nature of the beast to be busy during this time of year. Tourists roll in and by the droves! Our average wait time goes up and it's not uncommon to have to be put on the waiting list.

Last night the restaurant was packed, extremely packed. The hosts had already delt with a bunch of grief from grumpy jerks, to one man actually cursing a host out. Everyone was on pins and needles for some reason, from the customers to the kitchen staff.

Well, tonight we had this gem come in who is apparently more important than everyone else in the restaurant... and was unhappy by the time the hosts got him sat at a table in my section. I went over to their table, and greeted them warmly. I was unaware there was any problem at first. They were a little stand off-ish as I went over their choices for the menu.

Now, this guy is one of the restaurant regulars. He's kind of uppity, and soft spoken. His closely cropped salt and pepper hair rests over a pair of dark bushy eyebrows. He has stylish "old man" glasses, and black leather wrist watch to accessorize his look.

He asked me how one of our specials was, I had no clue how it was because I don't eat our daily specials. There are like five to six each day, and the change. I did tell him that I served a few and was given excellent feedback on them. He finally ordered, with an appetizer, and I was off.

I was servicing the rest of my of my tables and checking the kitchen window regularly for any of my section's food. On one of my laps through the floor, I saw him sitting on the edge of his seat, eyes locked on me. Oh God, I thought to myself. I walk over and ask if anything is wrong.

Here starts his temper tantrum. "Where is our appetizer? We ordered X-minutes ago!" I apologize and try to explain that our kitchen has 40 tickets they are trying to cook through at the moment, and that I'd have his food out as soon as it was ready. He remained unappeased.

By my next trip out, he gave me a first to add to my list. He was sitting there wrist raised, staring at his watch over his glasses that teetered at the edge of his nose. "Where is our food?!" I was done trying to please him, "It is almost done, I am sorry. As soon as the kitchen has ready, I will have it right to you."

I couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. He is right, his food did take a long time. It doesn't give a person a reason to be an ass. He is extremely lucky that I have to remain nice at all times. I would have given this guy an earful. Needless to say, I sent the manager out, his tab was taken care of, and he was given a gift card for next time. He also surprised me by handing a few bucks, which was nice... it still didn't make up for his behavior, but I appreciated it none-the-less. I guess sometimes a baby just cries until you pick it up and burp it.

Long Summer!

Restaurant Rage!

THEY JUST KEEP COMING! UGHHHHHHH.

Coolest Old Man EVER!

My Favorite Old Timer!

Alright, I figured this guy deserved his own post... today was a very shitty day at the restaurant and I don't want to ruin this old man's post by mixing it with the bad stuff. So I will single him out, in a good way.

It must three weeks or so at this point since I waited on this old man at the restaurant. Apparently he is the father of one of the regulars that come in from time to time. The old man starts off by telling me about a copper cleaning product called "Bar Keeper's Friend." (I'm polishing as he walks in). I think 'ok, this is random,' but smile and keep about my busy work.

The host seats the family in my section. The family is that usual grandparents, mom and dad, and little kids big top. "Make sure I get bill at the end," he says. I think 'oh great, grandpa's paying... hello 10% or less.

I approach and he is making small talk to me right off the bat. He kids around and for some reason (conversation topic related), he starts singing me Dean Martin. He also tells me how they enjoy dining out. I laugh and kid around with him. I start to like him already. I think to myself, that at least the table will be fun to wait on.

The meal goes off without a hitch. I thank them at the end and drop the check. If my memory serves me correctly, their whole tab was like $66.00 or so. Not too expensive for a six top. I run his credit card, drop the check, and thank them again. They leave, I continue with my other tables, the host buses their table, and I return to the server station to retrieve the credit slip.

I open the book and there is no credit slip. I question the hosts as to who bused the table, and then asked the appropriate person if they had seen the credit slip in the book or on the table when they had cleared it off. They give me no, and shrug. I chalk it up to a lost cause.

Later that week one of my co-workers comes up to me and says (something along the lines of): "Hey, some old man called and said he took his credit slip home with him the other day. He forgot to tip you and will be sending someone down with your tip." I knew immediately who it was, and thought that it was shocking someone would even call back for something like this. I have to admit that I didn't expect to see the cash, but thought it was really amazing that he called anyway to apologize. Well, today, his son (the regular) comes up to me and hands me crisp $10. My faith in the human race is restored for while longer!

Thank you sir, wherever you are.

Any more trivia sir?

Restaurant Rage!


Ok, summer is here. School is out. The mystic flood gates that have held back tourists and idiots for the last couple of wintry months have burst. Thus spewing forth an unseen, and unmatched idiot storm of the season.


We phase at the most inopportune time. To me, it seems as if this particular manager waits until I either: A.) Get double, triple, or quadruple sat, B.) Get a big top, C.) The kitchen has put me in a world of miss cooked food and misfire mistakes that seems as if I (and they) will never recover from... or D.) ANY COMBINATION OF THE ABOVE!


Now, bless her heart, I know she would never do this on purpose. It is just a shitty coincidence that happens often when we are on a shift together. In her defense, she also is very good about helping servers recover from the weeds.


Anyway, it's not her that this post is about. It's about a tool bag so great that Billy Mays, standing in craftsman aisle at Sears, with a full camera crew, couldn't even endorse. Seriously, it's as if a Snap-On truck hit a bump as they passed by my restaurant, and this guy came bouncing through the door. (Insert the sound of clanging wrench here.)

Now, I don't remember our exact exchange, due to the fact that I was busier than two jack rabbits in the spring. I do remember him asking me: "Hey, so what is so special about this burger?" I then went on to explain that our burgers are better than those of large chains, because we buy from local ranchers and that the beef is better because the farmers care for their stock (basically, it's not some giant corporate slaughter house of beef that pumps its cattle full of garbage to get more poundage out of the stock). His eyes widen, and a grin parts his cheeks, lips, and gravity from each other. "Oh, well isn't that fancy?" He looks around his table... they are about as impressed with him as I am.

"Well, how about the chicken?" I answer (now growing impatient and completely out of time)"Yes, it is also from a ranch very close to the area. It's not from this city, but from a farm on the outskirts of another about half an hour away from here." Again, the bogus act of acting impressed comes from his seat.

"Everything from around here is just so fresh, now isn't it?" He looks around at his party again for some kind of confirmation. Again, apologetic gazes radiate to me, from the group. One member even suggests he orders a chip and dip appetizer from our menu to shut him up. He is deterred by this attempt.

He gets a big smile across his lips. Reaches over, and picks up an ice water that I had previously dropped off. I look back at my section, making a mental note of my tables, and prioritizing what my next actions will be as soon as my would-be Alex Trebek quits playing 20 questions with me. He continues: "I'll bet this water is from that river over there isn't it?" He points.

I answer a very dry "No." At this point, I apologize to his group, and explain that I must go "drop some hot food off at my other tables." Explaining that I will be right back and that I was sorry for the inconvenience (not explaining that the inconvenience was mine completely, and not theirs). With that, I walked away, and did what I had to, to get my section back in check. I also made a point to let that table squirm a bit, as I didn't go back to them until all my other tables were addressed and on track.