Today I got to work at 1:00 as usual.

Turn on the a/c. Get a cup of coffee. Log into the I-pad.

Walk into the office, hit the play button on the machine.

There were 9 messages. Lizzy was one of them.

One of the others was an angry woman who was mad because she was charged $50 for cancelling a reservation.

I call her back, leave my standard message: Hi this is Jeff calling from _________________. You can reach us back at 555.555.5555.

I learned last year not to leave any other message or people will assume they’ve gotten a reservation or their issue has been resolved.

Generic call me back message.

I move on to other messages.

As I said, Chef and I sat down to talk to today.

We’ve been chatting for about 30 minutes when one of our kitchen employees leads a woman out of the kitchen into the dining room.

I thought she was there to make a reservation.

Oh. NO.

Her husband has insisted she come down to the restaurant to confront me about being charged for her cancelled reservation.

Back story.

She made the reservation on line at 8:30 yesterday morning. She made it for 2 people.

She realized at 4:55 she needed it to be for 3 people.

She called the restaurant at 4:55 on Saturday night of the July 4th weekend to change her reservation.

I’m standing there when they field the call.

There is NO WHERE for a table of 3 until 8:30. This is too late for her. They cancel her reservation.

The following exchange takes place.

She also states that NO ONE ever answers the phone. I ask her if she leaves a message, NO BUT…

I assure her that if she left a message she’d have been called back.

She then insists that she made the reservation for 3 but we changed it on her.

I assure her that this didn’t happen.

She then wants to know why she was charged if she cancelled. We are a busy restaurant and we surely filled the reservation.

I explain that she literally cancelled five minutes before service started and that I’d been turning people away all day.

She then says, well we put our name on your notify list all the time and perhaps if you called people back you could have filled it. I explain that we have never and will never use the notify list.

She pushes back again saying that she should be refunded her $50 dollars.

I say great. I’ll refund your $50 and charge you for the reservation for 3 that you have for today that you are once again trying to cancel after the 24 hour deadline.

She insists that she did not make the reservation.

I laugh. Spin the I-pad toward and say (I love to do this) the machine doesn’t lie. You made the reservation at 6:17 last night. My team did not make the reservation because the time stamp says it was you. So either you made it or you should change your password because you’ve been hacked.

She continues to insist that she wouldn’t make it because she’s bringing her son and she’d never have made it for 8:30.

I laugh.

She then says I don’t know why you’d charge someone who lives down the street who just wanted to change their reservation.

I explain that I was at the host stand when she called and she never asked to change her reservation.

She then says it’s because we are always booked?

HUH?

I ask her to explain?

She says you are always booked. I couldn’t change it.

I ask her, if she asked the hosts to change it and she says no. I tried to do it online. You are always booked.

Finally Chef, says we’ll make your reservation.

She’s coming tomorrow at 5:00.

A glitch in the Resy system is that if you cancel a reservation it still sends a text reminding you of the reservation.

So of course the husband calls tonight to yell at the hosts. He then ends by asking if if I’ve refunded the charges.

The host has no idea what he’s talking about.

I’ll refund her.

In 2 weeks.

Anyone want to guess what happened at 8:00 tonight?

Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Why yes. Yes, indeed.

I was on the patio when I hear a request to come to the host stand on the radio. And when I get there I discover:

A party of eight showed up with two 4 top reservations. One inside. One outside…

One reservation at 8:00. One reservation at 8:30.

They are ready to go at it when I get there.

Of course. Before I even take a breath I think to myself. This has happened everyday for six days. Every. FUCKING day.

I step behind the host stand and ask the host what’s going on.

She explains.

The girl. We’ll call her Lizzy.

She starts.

I’ve been calling for days trying to get through but no one answers and no one returns my calls.

I take great offense to this. I spend the first hour of EVERY day returning messages from the night before and morning of. I tell her all of this.

She tells me that she called earlier today and no one called her back.

I laugh.

And say, oh. Your reservation says Elizabeth. But you’re Lizzy. I called you back today. Your voicemail is full.

She looks like I called her some horrible name.

She continues saying, okay. You might have called me today, but I’ve been calling for weeks.

I assure her if she’s left messages, she’s been called back.

She has not left messages. I checked my notebook. I have every message I’ve taken since working there recorded in three ring binders.

She continues.

Well my mom has been calling as well and no one has returned her calls.

I assure her that if she has left a message she has been called back.

She changes her strategy.

She no longer cares, she’s just insisting that they sit together.

I explain this can’t happen because we are full.

Well why not, she says?

Because we are full, I say.

Well can we just wait.

I reply yes you can, but we won’t be able to seat you until around 9:30 and our last reservation is at 8:30.

Then we’ll wait she says.

I explain that I just said, our last reservation is at 8:30 we won’t be seating anyone at 9:30.

A man appears and asks why not.

I’m struggling at this point.

I literally say, BECAUSE I said so.

At this point she goes back to her original tactic, saying as she plops her Louis Vuitton bag on the host stand, my mother lives at Walker’s Point and she’s been trying to get in touch with you for weeks to no avail.

Seriously. You just told me your a Bush and this is somehow supposed to make things better. (Turns out she’s a step Bush).

The man steps up again.

Can we get get drinks on the patio and get seated when the table is available.

UH. NO. We just covered this, no one tonight is getting sat after 8:30.

So can we get seated at separate tables and then move when a table becomes available.

UH. NO. You can’t.

Well why not?

Because at the point your food will be in the system. No one will know where to take it to. And it’s difficult to provide you with exemplary service doing it this way.

SHE looks at her friends and says why don’t we just go someplace else. They agree that this will be a great idea.

I explain that I’d be happy to cancel their reservation but they’d be charged $25 per person for the 2 reservations. So they’d be paying $200 dollars to eat elsewhere.

The man says, they have our credit cards on file?

She says with frustration, yes.

She goes back to the original argument.

I explain that this is not true. You have left one message today wanting to change your reservation. You made your original reservation two weeks ago. You’ve had plenty of time to change it. You WILL get charged.

They decide to stay.

Now they are trying to decide who will sit where.

The man starts again.

I don’t understand why you are being so difficult.

I explain that I’m not being difficult. I literally have two table open. One outside. One inside. I’m not going to move anyone and that they are NOT going to sit together.

He continues to be pissed.

Finally the men are seated.

The women remain at the host stand. I think it’s over and leave.

Then I get called back to the host stand. They’ve finally exited to the patio but they were bullying my host. Demanding she find a solution and then told her was rude when she said, I’m not sure what you want me to do?

She then tells my host that she is in the service industry and she should be embarrassed about how’s she is treating her.

I think to myself, I’m embarrassed for you if you are in the service industry acting like this.

A few minutes later I go outside and discover they haven’t been sat yet, because their table wasn’t ready. One of the, marches over to demand to know why they haven’t been sat yet. The host says, because your table is dirty. When it’s cleaned we’ll get you sat.

They are finally seated.

They decide to be difficult and didn’t order for close to 45 minutes. The men inside had eaten two courses and paid before they even ordered their food.

They also took every opportunity to tell their server how rude the hosts and the manager were.

When I tell Chef about the comment about living at Walker’s Point he says, I hope you said, well I’m sure you have beautiful views but that still won’t get you a table together.

We did decide that tomorrow I’m putting a message on Resy that says if you do make two reservations to skirt the system your request to sit together will not be honored and you will sit at the tables we have reserved for you.

Six fucking days in a row.

Wow!!!

Tonight was a better night.

First. I got some sleep. Which was greatly helpful.

Second I had several conversations with people that helped.

And third, all of your comments were valid.

I should start by saying last night I was venting. LOUDLY. VERY. VERY. LOUDLY.

The one thing I’ve known, more than anything about being overworked is that I have no one to vent to. I have no other adult in the room.

I don’t vent to Chef because he’s busier than I am, more overworked than I am, and I don’t want to bog him down with the details of Front of House unless it concerns him.

I don’t have another manager to vent to. My ventee, left in April leaving a bigger void than he knows.

I also don’t have Adam, as he’s in bed by the time I get home and we literally barely see each other from Wednesday to Tuesday. I saw him for about 5 minutes tonight, and I try not to dump on him as he’s going to sleep.

I try, sometimes unsuccessfully to not involve my employees with my frustrations. It makes me feel like a parent talking about my spouse to a child.

Last night was hard.

I continually get beat up at work. In fact, I had so much anxiety at the start of my shift after the bullshit conversation about the two 5 tops.

I watch as my staff continually struggles to keep up with little things.

And then at the end of the night, chef was frustrated with me and let me know.

Then to finish it, I go outside and all of the patio tables have been cleared of their set ups even though there is a table that hasn’t even ordered yet.

I was just done!!!!!

So I came home and vented to all of you.

Unfortunately, many of my staff read this. And I managed to upset a few of them. Of course, none of this was directed at them, but once again I felt like a bad parent who was taking their frustration with their work life out on their children.

I did damage control and they all understood. But it doesn’t make it right.

So I’d also like to apologize to them publicly.

Meanwhile, I spoke to Chef today and asked him not to be so discouraging at the end of the night. He heard me and apologized.

We also chatted about the business, the services we are doing, the numbers we are doing. It felt great. He also gave me several amazing compliments which felt great. The best being that although I make decisions he might not make he knows I’m making them with the business in mind not my own personal needs in mind. Which is very true.

I also had some advice given to me which I appreciated it.

From you.

But also, Adam reminded me that I needed to focus on the big picture and stop being bogged down with the little stuff.

Jen reminded me that our guests don’t even notice for the most part. And as long as they don’t care, yes keep working on improving things but don’t get so stressed out.

So, I’m sipping a bourbon. Writing. And much calmer tonight.

Thanks for listening.

Edit: I remember this night very clearly. It was strange. And stupid and so called Amy didn’t get fired. She was back at work a few days later and we became great friend. I still have no idea what the drama was about.

As for Italians.

I learned how to make money off of foreigners at my job. In fact a few months before I left I did a tutorial to some of my co-workers on how to make money from visitors from other countries. It really was about the way you approached them.

Server edition:

I’ve become the worst blogger ever. I used to post everyday, and felt guilty if I didn’t. Now I barely post once a week. What am I becoming. A lot of it has to do with just being tired. Waiting tables is taking it out of me, so that even when I don’t work I’m exhausted. I’ll try to be better. I promise.

I worked tonight. It was actually an adventure just starting my shift. On Tuesday night I was approached by a manager asking if I’d be interested in picking up a cocktail shift for Friday night. Seems a server’s mother was ill and she was going to be out of town all week to be with her. I needed the money so of course I said yes. Fast forward to today. I get to work and am pulled aside by a different manager. Seems the girl with the sick mother, came back early and showed up to work her shift. So now they have two people to work in one station, even though I signed the book and it rightfully belongs to me. Not one to be bitchy (well most of the time) I asked what was going to happen, and I was assured that I’d get a shift, if I just let them work it out.

About 25 minutes later, the same manager comes back to me and tells me I’m going to be in section 5 and that it’s all worked out. This makes me happy because although it’s not as good as the section I was supposed to be in, it’s still good and I won’t have to work as hard. Fast forward 10 minutes. I’m sitting with the crew, waiting for pre-shift to start (this is where they fill us in on the specifics for the evening) and the same manager tells me there might be a problem with my shift and to just sit tight. Then another manager pulls me aside and tells me the shift is mine, but that someone else is there to work and I just have to wait until they talk to her before I can take it. Then the original manager comes back by and tells me not to say anything during pre-shift and just pretend that I don’t have a shift until they can figure it all out. And so that’s what I do. I sit there and listen as everyone else is told where they are working and what’s happening for the evening. I now realize that a girl named Amy is in my section but I still have no idea what’s going on.

Pre-shift ends and everyone scatters to start their shift. I’m told to go wait in the manager’s office and await further instruction. At about 5:15 it’s announced that everyone needs to leave the office so there can be a meeting with a server…Amy. I get up and stand outside chatting with other employees. I’m chatting and don’t see her go in. It’s now almost 5:25 and they still haven’t told me what’s going on and they’ve just taken Amy into the office to talk to her. I wait, and wait, and wait and suddenly the door opens Amy bursts out crying and storms off. I have no idea what’s happened or why. Then the manager comes out and tells me I can now start my shift.

I head off to my section to find it completely full and find out from another server it’s been full since 5:15. Which means that people have been sitting there for almost 15 minutes without being helped. I’m now going to have to do some damage control if I’m not going to be stiffed on my first round of tables. I greet all the tables and tell them that the server who was supposed to be waiting on them has had a family emergency and had to leave. I apologize to them profusely and tell them they’ll be in the best of hands now. It seems to appease everyone. I’ve now said the same thing to all four tables and I think everything is under control. And then, while I’m standing at the computer entering orders an entirely different manager comes up and starts to bitch me out because I have been missing in action for 30 minutes and my tables haven’t been waited on. I wait until he stops to take a breath and tell him to go speak to George about where I’ve been. That I was doing exactly what I was told and that every thing was under control. His response. Perhaps he should give one of my tables away since I don’t seem to be able to handle them. I grunted and walked away. About 20 minutes later he came back up to me and ask how everything was and apologized that he was yelling at me, when clearly no one had kept him in the loop about what was going on.

And that was my first 45 minutes of work. I’d love to say that it got better from there but it didn’t. It was 5% night tonight. At least 10 or 11 tables left less than 10%. And if I’ve said it once I’ve said it a 1,000 times. Italian tourists suck ass. If they tip at all, which they don’t always do, it’s never more than 5 bucks no matter what the tab. Oh, and to the very nice teenage four-some that was the last table seated in my section. You know, the ones who took forever to order. The ones that took forever to eat. The ones who made me do a birthday when no one was in the restaurant. The one I gave the free dessert to because it was your birthday. $6.75 on a 75 dollar tab is not acceptable. In fact it’s insulting. If you are educated enough to tip, then pull out the calculator on your cell phone and figure out what 15% is. And since you got free food, and a birthday…why don’t you make it 20%. I’m just saying.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Server addition!!!

Edit: I’d like to say the post I am about to post is about the night at my last serving job that changed the trajectory of my life there. I went from being a server….to a cocktail server. The minutes I started I was sold. I told my manager I never wanted to do a regular section again. And it helped that only the brave and stupid wanted to work that section. You know who you are!!! The money was good but you worked for every penny. More on that later.

Now for the post:

It’s 3 a.m. and I just got home. I have to be back at work in 7 hours. Something tells me I’m going to be a little tired tomorrow.

Monetarily tonight was the best night I ever had waiting tables. I walked with almost 20% of my sales. Of course I ran my ass off all night. I was in one of the cocktail sections and it’s a much different beast than just waiting tables. The pace is much faster, people drink more, and you have to be one step ahead all night. I was originally scheduled in a regular section but someone wanted to switch because the cocktailers are there till close. I wasn’t sure I was making the right decision but it meant I didn’t have to go up and down any stairs so I said sure.

At first I thought I had made a mistake. There were no tables and I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. And then almost at once, all my tables filled up, my rail filled up and there were several people deep wanting drinks. This was around 6 p.m. and it didn’t stop until 1:30 a.m. What’s funny is I’m not really tired. I had such a rush of adrenaline, that I’m wide awake and I could run a couple of miles before bed.

For the most part everyone was tipping really well tonight. I had probably 6 or 7 tables that tipped 30 or 40%. Of course as always there was the one or two people I just wanted to smack. My very first table of the day was the 4 twelve year old homos from Pittsburgh who were in town for the day. They got great service because I wasn’t busy at all yet, and I even gave them directions to the train section. They were kind enough to leave me 6 bucks on a 65 dollar tab. I hope they got hit by a cab crossing the street. They should know better. And as usual, my one and only Italian table left me 5 bucks on a 75 dollar tab. Someone really needs to do some international relations with them and explain that I only make a few dollars an hour without the tip. And then I had a few tables at the end who left pretty shabby money, but by then it was clear I was going to clear a lot of money tonight so I just didn’t care. In fact I made enough money that I spent 30 bucks and took a cab home tonight. 20 minutes by cab verses 90 minutes by train when you have to be up early in the morning makes it worth it.

So the night ended by my telling the server manager that I would work in cocktails anytime she wanted. Most people hate it so it shouldn’t be a problem getting the shifts again. It’s hard work, but the money is good and that’s why I’m there.

Have a great Sunday all.

I’m standing at the host stand on the patio listening to a foursome at the bar talk loudly.

The girl keeps going on and on and on about how her husband wasn’t interested in her sexually until they’d been dating about 3 years. She’s shouting all of this. They didn’t kiss, no sex etc.

They have clearly been drinking.

I hear her say, HEY YOU! CAN I GET A….

The bartender has cut her off and said, “my name is not hey you. It’s Alex.

I laugh and laugh.

She apologizes. And asks for a soda water.

Meanwhile I’m admiring how smartly her gay husband is dressed.

A server comes to me tonight to tell me she has an issue.

Her table is finished eating.

The table has been cleared.

Any thing left has been packed up or in the trash.

And the gentleman at the table has taken this opportunity to tell her that he thinks his porterhouse was actually a t-bone so he will only be paying for the t0-bone.

I laugh and I laugh and say that’s now how any of this works.

I let her know he’ll be paying for the porterhouse and to come get me if he puts up a stink.

I don’t see her again till she’s checking out.

As I’ve mentioned this week, 12 times it’s been kids week.

Kids as far as the eye can see.

Table 25 tonight, sat at 5:00 was 2 adults and 3 kids.

And they were lovely.

The kids crawled around on the floor.

They threw food every where.

They refused to eat any thing.

At one point two of them were under the table pouting for some reason.

But the best part.

When they left the table was a mess.

Food everywhere. Silver ware on the floor.

And a very dirty diaper thrown under the table.

Yes. You read that right.

A very dirty diaper thrown under the table.

That is all.

Last night a server comes to me and says, “Table 21 just got into a huge fight. One of the women thru down a bunch of cash and walked out.”

I ask her to explain.

She says, “They’d just gotten their food, they all got mad. A woman paid the bill and they all left.”

She then asked if it was okay to take home the meat on the table to her dogs since they didn’t any of it. I assure her it was fine.

Their tab was $400 and they didn’t eat any of their dinner.

But Beth’s dog ate great last night.

Like

Comment

Share

Anybody want to guess how my evening started.

First we had a party of 15 at 5:00.

They were prompt. Right at 5:00.

The first person thru the door said, Hi we are the Smith party.

The host said are you still going to be 15 people.

The woman at the door said oh, no. We are going to be 18 people.

Who does that?

Then 5 minutes later the phone rings and its a reservation for 7:15.

It’s a 10 top.

Who made 2 five top reservations demanding that we seat them together.

They are actually 7 now, but it’s fucked up.

One of my hosts told me I was being a dick for not seating them together.

And I probably am.

But this is the fourth time this week this has happened.

And it’s the third time I’ve been yelled at about it.

I’m getting PTSD.

Seriously.