Server edition:

So I fully expected to come home tonight and rant and rant and rant about work tonight. But alas that is not to be. I had the best shift tonight that I’ve had since I started working there. So I think I should wait until I have a really bad shift to do some ranting.

I went in to work today to pick up a shift. I was only scheduled two shifts this week, so I’ve been a little desperate to get shifts. I managed to pick up one on Sunday but that was it. So the rest of the week has to be the lottery. I’ve mentioned this before. We show up an hour before the shift and everyone who’s there gets their name put into a hat and then the names are drawn out. You are then ranked from 1 to whatever. That’s the order shifts are given away. Whether you get a shift depends on whether anyone’s called out sick, or whether any of the servers who show up to work want to say fuck it and go home. Last night there were four of us who wanted shifts and none of us got one. Tonight there were 6 of us wanting shifts and I think four of us got them. I was number 2 on the list and that was great because I got my favorite station in the restaurant. I was the station closest to the kitchen. It’s not huge, but it means the work is easier. Fewer steps to the bar and kitchen means less stress with getting your food and alcohol to the table. Trust me when I say it’s great to be two steps away from both.

The night started out great and remained great throughout the evening. Almost every table tipped 20% with a five or six tables doing more than 30%. One foreign table double tipped me, but I have no idea what that was about. And I only got two bad tips. The first one was from two ladies who were clearly in a bad mood when they arrived. I could have tapped dance while balancing things on my head and they would have been pissy. They left me $4.00 on a $44.00 tab. 10% is better than no tip at all, but it’s not great. My last table of the evening left me $5.00 on $75.00. They were Italian, and I think I’ve mentioned before, people from Italy don’t tip. And I don’t mean the Italians that live in Queens. I mean the Italians that flew over two days ago on Delta. I have yet to have them tip me more than 5 or 6%. But what can you do. There’s no point in getting mad. All it does is ruin your evening and that doesn’t help you in the end. The one saving grace is that the Italian boy who didn’t tip well was BEAUTIFUL. And I say that with a capital BEAUTIFUL. And was very flirtatious. Although cute and flirtatious don’t pay the rent, they are better than ugly and pissy and non tipping.

Before my shift tonight I had a conversation with my friend Daniel

who’s a manager at the restaurant and helped me get my old job back. We’ve chatted many times since I’ve been back. One of the things we’ve talked about is how awful the staff is now. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here or not, but it really is the worst staff of any restaurant I’ve ever worked at. They are childish and petty and only look out for themselves. There’s no teamwork and definitely no helping out of other people who are working. They don’t say please and thank you and have no appreciation when someone does something to help them out. So I’ve told my friend Daniel this. Well, seems they had a manager’s meeting this morning and the attitude of the staff came up. He took this moment to tell them a couple of stories that I’d told him about things that have happened while I’ve been working there. They were concerned about how I reacted, but he assured them that I was a grown up and took it all with a grain of salt. I don’t care that he told them, I just hope they start trying to do something about it.

In the meantime, I’m off tomorrow so I’m going to try and pick up another shift. And then I’m scheduled Saturday and I picked up a shift for Sunday, and I’m scheduled Monday and Tuesday. My goal is to make the rest of my student loan payment and all of my rent over the weekend. With any luck it will happen.

Edit:

I have no recollection of the staff being rude or mean. By three months in I’d made life long friends. Some of whom, I’m still in touch with today.

It makes me think it might have been more about me than them. I was one of the oldest on the staff. I knew what I was doing. I wasn’t there to make friends. And when you aren’t there to make friends they don’t migrate to you.

Anyway.

I’m glad I stuck it out. I’m glad I made friends. I’m glad that I gave people the chance to get to know me.

It really was the best of times and the worst of times.

Like

Comment

Share

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Tonight a server comes to me and says his table doesn’t not like their steak.

They ordered it black and blue. (This is seared or charred on the outside, mostly raw on the inside).

He says it’s over cooked. Almost well done.

But the real problem is that he covered it in ketchup so you can longer see how it’s cooked.

I get to the table and he’s right.

It’s covered in ketchup.

I ask him what he dislikes about the steak.

He resorts to a common way of dealing with.

He doesn’t mention that it’s over cooked. Instead it’s tough.

Fun fact. Raw steak is tougher than cooked steak. You want to be able to cut it easier.

Cook it.

I don’t apologize.

I ask him if I can get him something else.

He says no.

I ask if he wants to keep it.

He says no.

I pick up the plate and realize half of it is on his wife’s plate.

Oh no.

You don’t get to keep half.

I have her put the steak she is eating on his plate.

And I take it away.

A woman calls after me as I go, sometimes these things happen.

What’s funny is this people were horrible old people when they arrived.

Just mean.

One of them was rude to the host because she asked the name of her reservation.

The gentleman with the steak was rude when she explained she’d get him seated when he came out of the restroom.

They were rude to their server.

But fun fact:

At the same time they were eating their two adult children were also having dinner and they couldn’t have been more gracious and generous.

Perhaps the grumpiness circle has been broken and will die with them.

We got a bad survey again this week. Less than 50%.

Why you ask?

The only comment was: They have no kids menu and no valid options for kids to eat.

Well.

That hurt.

We had no idea.

Here’s the thing.

We don’t have a kids menu.

We absolutely put that on our website and our reservation system.

Everyone knows when they get there that we don’t have a kids menu. We don’t have high chairs.

We also don’t have changing tables.

We are not kid friendly.

We don’t mind if your kids come along with you, but they are not our target audience.

You are.

So no.

We can’t cook you plain pasta with butter.

We will not bread chicken and give you chicken tenders.

We absolutely will not throw a piece of cheese between two hamburger buns and toast it for you. (That was a real request).

We absolutely will serve you a plain cheeseburger with unseasoned fries.

We absolutely will give you two empanadas and a side of potato salad.

Perhaps you should buy son or daughter a filet. Or a pork chop. Or the smoked chicken. Or salmon.

But we don’t have and will never have a kids menu.

It’s very interesting too.

We have more kids than ever before. Way more.

Tonight a couple was in for dinner. They had requested the chef’s table when they made the reservation.

I made it for them on Sunday.

They had sat on the patio for dinner.

At the end of the meal they’d requested a copy of the new cookbook. We have a million of them, but they wanted a signed one.

We’d just run out of autographed ones.

I offered to get it signed then they could pick it up later in the week.

That turned into they should just come back for dinner.

And that happened tonight.

And back they were.

They got their dinner.

They got their cookbook.

I went back at the end to say good night.

And then I remembered that they were moving to Florida. Which is why getting the book now was important.

I chatted with them for a while.

They’d moved here a couple of years ago. They have no real friends or family here. There is no reason to come back.

They were moving to Florida for work. I mentioned that we might open a location there in a few years. That led to excitement.

I chatted with them for awhile.

I finally had to get back to work. I gave them my card. Told them to keep in touch and I said good-bye.

And I was taken back to 2nd grade when my scoutmaster, Mr. Flagg moved away with his family at the end of the school year. The realization that I was never going to see these nice people again.

And it made me sad.

I didn’t know them well, but I’ve talked to them every few weeks since I started.

I don’t like goodbyes.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I knew last night that when I posted that I hadn’t taken any notes I’d regret it today.

My day today started just like any other.

Got there at 1:10. I was late today.

Answered a million and two phone calls.

Returned a few messages.

Answered way to many emails.

Had an interview with a potential new server.

Scarfed my lunch standing at a high top.

Pre-shift. (More on that later).

It’s 4:45. Candles lit. Lamps on. Music on. Unlock the doors. Here we go.

We sat 60 people at 5:00 tonight. Between 4:50 and 5:00.

In the summer and busy nights we try to open early to ease the blow of the first push. 90% of the time we are all in on 5:00 reservation before 5:00.

Tonight, a lot of people got there early.

I get the inside going.

Now out to the patio to make sure they are good to go.

There is one table seated.

I’m standing talking to the host, when a gaggle of folks walk up.

I whisper to her. I hope I didn’t fuck up and forget to put a large party reservation in the book.

They arrive at the outside host stand.

You’ll never guess.

Yes. It’s a large party.

That made 2 four top reservations. 1 five top reservation.

13 people.

They have approached the host stand saying they want to sit together.

Ugh.

No. Just no.

The host starts to move things around.

I gently pull the I-pad away from her and start moving things around myself.

I know it’s a dick move, but I hate, hate, hate people who play the system.

I explain to them that they can’t sit together. They will be at 3 different tables. 3 different servers.

They ask why.

The host answers. She’s very gentle with them.

I get everything situated.

They start seating the tables. A 5 top at table L-2. A 4 top at L15. A 4 top at L17.

That’s taken care of.

At least I thought.

A server appears to ask if the 2 four tops can move closer.

I say yes, but then realize they are moving 2 tables into one servers section.

I send the host over, she’d more delicate than me and she moves L-15 back. Moves L17 to the table next to them.

They then decide to be difficult NOT to order anything for 45 minutes, not even a drink while they decide if they are staying.

They do end up staying. They end up eating. They end up being there almost 3 hours.

And this gets to the gist of the story.

One of my hosts, who happens to be new says, I didn’t realize this until yesterday, but if you have to move one thing, it sets off a chain of events that effects the whole night.

The butterfly effect.

And this is absolutely the truth.

We do NOT have a large restaurant.

Tables are a commodity.

I spend 30 minutes to an hour before the staff gets there moving things around. Trying to accommodate requests. Making sure all the servers have approximately the same number of covers. Making sure that Jen doesn’t get 3 four tops at 5:00 and that Beth doesn’t get any tables until 5:45. I also check to make sure that each table is allotted its certain amount of time. A 2 top gets 90 minutes. a 3 top an hour, forty-five. 4’s and 5’s get 2 hours. 6 and 7’s get 2.5 hours. And all other parties get 3.

I do this most days before my team gets there.

My host team checks my math. They continue to move things all night to keep numbers comparable. Constantly adding numbers together to see where everyone is for the night. Moving things around to try to be equitable.

And the other problem with 3 four top reservations sitting together is that as I just said, if they sit together they’ll definitely not get up in 2 hours. They will be there for at least 3 hours and the tables I booked behind them will suffer the consequences.

So no. You can’t sit together.

Sorry.

Call the restaurant and follow the rules.