I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

When last you tuned in, I was just leaving J.C. Penney after meeting the Hallmark card guy, when he came to stock greeting cards.

Fun fact, I stayed friends with both the card guy and his boyfriend for a while afterwards. They ended making hand crafted furniture with no modern fasteners in their one-bedroom apartment. I visited them several times and they lived in the living room and assembled furniture in the bedroom. They had a full workshop including a table saw, band saw, and a lathe. They’d work from 9 to 5 building furniture to abide by the building’s quiet time restrictions.

Meanwhile…

I was hired to work at Bennigan’s by a woman who I remember being called Kim. It might be Sally for all I remember. She interviewed me at a high top in front of the bar.

I started 10 days later.

She was gone by the time I had my first day. (This happened a lot to me as I moved from job to job. I’d be hired by someone, who was gone by the time I started if not shortly after).

The manager was replaced by a woman named Karen.

The management team was awesome. A guy named Dana who was very, very good looking and who played baseball in college. He was eventually replaced by a man named John, who although not as cute, was very, very sweet.

My whole experience at Bennigan’s was awesome until the dastardly Keith appeared one day….but we’ll get to him.

I started on a Monday at 1:00. We did all the requisite tours and forms. Then myself, along with my other co-hires and a man named Jimmy all sat down for classroom training.

Jimmy was very gay. Very funny. Laughed uproariously. Only worked days. And was awesome.

He died a few years after I left Atlanta from an aneurism. I remember being stunned by the news.

He was the official classroom trainer. And he spent the next five days teaching us all things serving.

I value those five days I spent in classroom training, more than any other training I’ve gotten in my life.

Those five days allowed me to be very good at making a living until my mid-40’s.

Every day, during those classroom hours we were taught to wait tables.

I wish that I’d saved my employee manual, because it would come in handy, even today.

They assumed we all had experience, but they trained us as if we didn’t.

We were taught:

How to hold a tray.

How to bus a table.

How to take an order.

The different kinds of liquors and what they were served with.

How to garnish a drink.

How to carry three plates.

How to carry four glasses.

How to empty an ashtray.

My favorite. What does 86’d mean?

It means to be out of something.

I remember thinking that it must be because it’s 1987 and to not have something would have been so last year. True story.

We had hand written tickets and there was a detailed abbreviation system.

You had to remember the difference between broccoli bites and broccoli soup, when writing the tickets

You had to know the difference between broccoli bites and burger bites.

One was brocc.

One was bites.

The bar was tricky as I knew nothing.

An arrow up for straight up.

An “X” for on the rocks.

What the hell was a martini?

I used those abbreviations taking orders until May 24, 2012, when I took my last order.

After 4 hours of classroom training, we were given an apron and assigned to a grown-up waiter.

I was trained by a man named David for at least two of my shifts. He was a great server, who was excellent at his job.

He was also sarcastic, with a biting sense of humor and he took a liking to me from the get go.

He taught me to combine my steps.

He taught me that you are only in the weeds if you think you are.

He taught me to never let them see you sweat.

He taught me to never show weakness.

And he taught me how to have a good time, by showing me how to walk through the dining room like a super model.

At the end of the that week of training, I graduated and became a full-fledged server.

I was good at it from the start. And I do say so myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been better at anything in my life.

It wasn’t long before I tasked with waiting on the corporate team.

I was a trainer.

I was on the employee council.

I was an office assistant.

And I was always in the same section, in the smoking section and it was far busier than the other side of the restaurant.

This job truly served me well.

I’ll also brag that it was the last time I ever finished training as a server. From that point on, I would train two or three days, pass the test, and be on the floor.

It was the beginning of November when I started.

I’d be straight for 6 more weeks.