Server edition!

A new post!

I wrote yesterday about the French Canadians who visited over the weekend.

A friend commented that a table of British women were her worst nightmare.

This brought back a slew of memories.

When I worked in Times Square there were nights I didn’t speak to anyone from the states.

There were nights I didn’t speak to anyone who spoke English as a first language.

That being said, I was pretty good at getting foreign tables to tip me. Not always 20% but anything is better than nothing.

I was so good at getting foreign tables to tip I taught a couple of classes to my coworkers before I left.

That being said.

Some nights sucked.

One evening I was tipped ZILCH on over $500 in sales. I kept the receipts. Around 10 or 12 tables and nothing. Nada. Zip.

Thank god it was a place known for volume.

Some favorites I remember:

Four girls from away who ordered 4 waters. One order of French fries. And wrote postcards for 4 hours. They left 20% which was $1.

Two men who were from away that kept me running all night. Then tipped .05%. Then asked where they should go for drinks after.

I sent them to The Cock. A gay bar in the East Village.

They came back to confront me the next night. I suggested they tip next time.

My favorites though were:

British Girls With Shiny Shirts.

Go ahead say it again.

British Girls With Shiny Shirts.

And again.

BRITISH GIRLS WITH SHINY SHIRTS.

I coined the phrase.

These were girls from Great Britain who came to our restaurant wearing sequined shirts.

I saw a lot them.

Always nice.

Akways 10% or less.

Anytime British Girls With Shiny Shirts would sit in my section I’d expect the worst.

And usually it came to fruition.

I don’t see British Girks With Shiny Shirts any more.

And.

I’m very grateful.