Waiting
So, I recently started waiting tables to fill in the money gaps (although, it has yet to fill in any gaps other than time). And I am, yet again, reminded of the joys and downfalls of working in the service industry.
First, there is the pretty excellent perk of the social scene. No matter who you are, you will make a waiter friend when you wait tables. There is always some miserable soul who will share in your misery by bitching about customers over cheap beer at midnight on a Wednesday. I happen to work at the kind of place where the waiters get the uniforms dry-cleaned and there aren't hostesses because there is a maitre 'd- so really, it just means that the characters are just a little more colorful. Which leads to the second major perk: there is always something entertaining happening. And, most importantly, payday is everyday! If you don't fucking suck, you can pick up hefty sums of cash every night.
But, as you can imagine...There are huge liabilities, most importantly, that you get 0 respect, 0 benefits, and on slow nights, 0 money. Customers think they are some kind of lord of the manor, the managers think they're gods and the cooks are defiant for no particular reason-let's not even discuss the bartenders.
I often notice, in waiting tables, that there are sometimes themes of the night. Last Sunday, it was disheveled drunk night, tonight, it was misadventures in dating.
First, there was a couple obviously on a first date, and the dude was either really fucking messed up, or he was trying to get rid of the woman (I vote messed up as she appeared to be a nice-looking woman, and he appeared to be a fat trekkie). He wasn't at my table, but he was in the section next to mine, and the dude was dealing with some kind of serious pumpkinphilia issues. At first, it seemed just a little strange- he specifically asked for a list of the items on the menu that contained pumpkin (the correct answer is 0) and then proceeded to hem and haw about the merit of other "pumpkin-like foods" finally settling on a pasta dinner because the pasta reminded him of the stringy things in the pumpkin. All seemed to be quiet on the pumpkin-lover front until dessert came around, and the guy actually had a shit fit over the fact that none of the desserts had pumpkin in them- he proceeded to list of the various dishes that had pumpkin that he enjoyed, finally settling on carrot cheese cake because it was a little orange. Fucking strange.
Then, I got a table of three- two aging southern men and a Chinese mail-order bride. She was the first mail-order bride I had ever seen- and it was fucking sad. The whole thing depressed me- right down to the part where she asked her retard hick husband if it was okay with him if she had a little vinegar on her salad as dressing (she ate a side salad for dinner, by the way) and after he and his creepy fat hick friend chowed down on expensive steak and lobster, they ordered rich desserts, and he let her have a fruit cup- how fucking sweet. She didn't even have to have his permission for the powdered sugar.
But, most importantly, I got a table of four- an older couple, their daughter, and the daughter's boyfriend- this was the first meeting of the boyfriend and parents. Holy crap, hilarious. People, listen...If you want to create a low-stress situation, DO NOT go to a restaurant where the waitstaff dresses like penguins, it WILL NOT be low-stress. BUT, it will make a great story for your waiter to tell his/her friends. Let's just say that while Pappa and Mamma sloshed back Dewer's they loudly proclaimed that their daughter was dating a drunk after the boyfriend ordered coffee with Baileys. The boyfriend was "cheap" because he didn't order an expensive steak or lobster and "not a gentleman" when he allowed his girlfriend to order for herself. All this while the older couple SPLIT one of the cheaper items on the menu and acted like complete pigs. I almost pissed myself laughing in the kitchen. Thankfully, the "cheap" and "rude" boyfriend left the hefty tip. The daughter was red in the face as they left- I think I missed the best part while I was trying to hold in the piss.
Of course, at the restaurant, there are plenty of neurotic people- enough to stock a small insane asylum...Which naturally creates the 10:45 breakdown. I've noticed over the past two weeks that every night at 10:45 somebody loses it. Usually, it's the quiet one. The other night, she took all of the papers, receipts, bills and bits of cash in her server book and threw everything onto the wet kitchen floor. Today, a girl who had recently become pregnant started screaming at the manager "you check me out, and you check me out now, because I don't have the time to stand around and wait for you to suck your own cock- I've got chocolate to eat and vomit to puke." Fucking brilliant. A few days ago, it was someone's last day, and her customers had been shitty...And with a full fucking dining room, she yelled out "I'm glad this is my last day, because you stupid fuckers don't know a damn about good service, tipping, and how to respect another fucking human being." She proceeded to completely walk out with a full section, never to be seen again. Well, except today, when she came to drop off her uniform.
I love it.
But, I really mostly hate it. I just really want that dental coverage and extra $600/wk.
First, there is the pretty excellent perk of the social scene. No matter who you are, you will make a waiter friend when you wait tables. There is always some miserable soul who will share in your misery by bitching about customers over cheap beer at midnight on a Wednesday. I happen to work at the kind of place where the waiters get the uniforms dry-cleaned and there aren't hostesses because there is a maitre 'd- so really, it just means that the characters are just a little more colorful. Which leads to the second major perk: there is always something entertaining happening. And, most importantly, payday is everyday! If you don't fucking suck, you can pick up hefty sums of cash every night.
But, as you can imagine...There are huge liabilities, most importantly, that you get 0 respect, 0 benefits, and on slow nights, 0 money. Customers think they are some kind of lord of the manor, the managers think they're gods and the cooks are defiant for no particular reason-let's not even discuss the bartenders.
I often notice, in waiting tables, that there are sometimes themes of the night. Last Sunday, it was disheveled drunk night, tonight, it was misadventures in dating.
First, there was a couple obviously on a first date, and the dude was either really fucking messed up, or he was trying to get rid of the woman (I vote messed up as she appeared to be a nice-looking woman, and he appeared to be a fat trekkie). He wasn't at my table, but he was in the section next to mine, and the dude was dealing with some kind of serious pumpkinphilia issues. At first, it seemed just a little strange- he specifically asked for a list of the items on the menu that contained pumpkin (the correct answer is 0) and then proceeded to hem and haw about the merit of other "pumpkin-like foods" finally settling on a pasta dinner because the pasta reminded him of the stringy things in the pumpkin. All seemed to be quiet on the pumpkin-lover front until dessert came around, and the guy actually had a shit fit over the fact that none of the desserts had pumpkin in them- he proceeded to list of the various dishes that had pumpkin that he enjoyed, finally settling on carrot cheese cake because it was a little orange. Fucking strange.
Then, I got a table of three- two aging southern men and a Chinese mail-order bride. She was the first mail-order bride I had ever seen- and it was fucking sad. The whole thing depressed me- right down to the part where she asked her retard hick husband if it was okay with him if she had a little vinegar on her salad as dressing (she ate a side salad for dinner, by the way) and after he and his creepy fat hick friend chowed down on expensive steak and lobster, they ordered rich desserts, and he let her have a fruit cup- how fucking sweet. She didn't even have to have his permission for the powdered sugar.
But, most importantly, I got a table of four- an older couple, their daughter, and the daughter's boyfriend- this was the first meeting of the boyfriend and parents. Holy crap, hilarious. People, listen...If you want to create a low-stress situation, DO NOT go to a restaurant where the waitstaff dresses like penguins, it WILL NOT be low-stress. BUT, it will make a great story for your waiter to tell his/her friends. Let's just say that while Pappa and Mamma sloshed back Dewer's they loudly proclaimed that their daughter was dating a drunk after the boyfriend ordered coffee with Baileys. The boyfriend was "cheap" because he didn't order an expensive steak or lobster and "not a gentleman" when he allowed his girlfriend to order for herself. All this while the older couple SPLIT one of the cheaper items on the menu and acted like complete pigs. I almost pissed myself laughing in the kitchen. Thankfully, the "cheap" and "rude" boyfriend left the hefty tip. The daughter was red in the face as they left- I think I missed the best part while I was trying to hold in the piss.
Of course, at the restaurant, there are plenty of neurotic people- enough to stock a small insane asylum...Which naturally creates the 10:45 breakdown. I've noticed over the past two weeks that every night at 10:45 somebody loses it. Usually, it's the quiet one. The other night, she took all of the papers, receipts, bills and bits of cash in her server book and threw everything onto the wet kitchen floor. Today, a girl who had recently become pregnant started screaming at the manager "you check me out, and you check me out now, because I don't have the time to stand around and wait for you to suck your own cock- I've got chocolate to eat and vomit to puke." Fucking brilliant. A few days ago, it was someone's last day, and her customers had been shitty...And with a full fucking dining room, she yelled out "I'm glad this is my last day, because you stupid fuckers don't know a damn about good service, tipping, and how to respect another fucking human being." She proceeded to completely walk out with a full section, never to be seen again. Well, except today, when she came to drop off her uniform.
I love it.
But, I really mostly hate it. I just really want that dental coverage and extra $600/wk.
posted by iconoclastical at 12:10 AM
1 Comments:
Welcome to the waiting world where you loose a small segment of your soul and personal dignity each and every shift. But the cash is nice.
Lobster Boy
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