I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I wrote this post three days ago and saved it to post on a night when I don’t work.  Adam suggested I write ahead so that I always have posts to share.

From Friday night:

I walked into the dining room tonight just behind Bob who was going to a dirty table to clean it.  

As I stepped behind him, I heard someone snapping their fingers, then I heard someone clap their hands twice and say, Bob, hey Bob.  

He didn’t hear them, but I certainly did.  

I turned and glared at them. 

Then I followed Bob to the wait station and said, table #25 just snapped at you, so I am assuming they need you. 

For those not in the business reading this, NEVER, EVER, EVER snap at a server to get their attention.

Nothing you need is that important, unless your guest is having an allergic reaction and needs an shot to the heart to survive, like in Kill Bill.

This is your public service announcement for the day.  

Update from today:

I was headed to my office to get my laptop, when I hear a whistle and realize that table #14 has their head stuck out of their room and is looking for someone.  They call me over, to tell me their chicken is undercooked. 

It’s not.  We smoke out chicken.  It’s smoked for hours before it’s served.  It was cooked through before they ever ordered it.  

Second, don’t fucking whistle at me.  You can only whistle at me if you are Ryan Reynolds or Jason Mamoa and you are about to fulfil a lifelong fantasy.  

Don’t do it.