Where Have I Been??

I just cannot believe how quickly time passes! I cannot believe that I haven't posted in so long! I've been really wrapped up in work, work, and work, so by the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is post...Hey, I'm being honest. Sometimes posting feels like work.

In reference to my previous post, the meeting with my manager did not go so well. He basically told me that the reason I have not been "promoted" to trainer is because of the previous arguments/opinions that I have given to managers or fellow employees. Whatever. He then blew a ginormous cloud of smoke up my ass and told me that he would keep me on his "radar" for the next couple of weeks. At that time, if he sees positivity, he will consider moving me up to trainer. I think it's bullshit, and I've dropped the entire idea out of my mind. I don't care anymore. I'm just going to take what I'm given and deal with it. I need the money, I can't afford to lose my job because I don't which sections I'm put in.
Ironically, ever since that conversation with GM, I have been scheduled in four-table sections, and last Saturday night, I was even scheduled in the front of the restaurant--the best place to be. So, actually, at this point, I don't have much to complain about.
So, that's that.

Sorry for the lack of posts. I hope I still have some readers out there.

Dinner tomorrow night.

Sob

Aside from having insane tables for the last few weeks, I've also been harboring this feeling like I'm being punished for something at ye ol' restaurant...
I only work 3 shifts a week now, because I have another part-time job, and I teach a writing course at the local community college. (My writing is much better when it's technical and not in ranting phase. I used to really edit my posts, but then I thought it took away from the artistic draw of the blog, which is a freestyle, get-it-out-before-I-explode, venting mechanism of sorts, which also has the potential of having a high entertainment value.)
Initially, when I brought this new availability to the schedule-writing manager, we discussed what shifts I'd like to work. I said, "If I ruled the world, I would love to work Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights." I knew I would, and I did, get a huge NO. Immediately following she says that those are "money" shifts, and it would be unfair to give me only those shifts, as they are the most sought after. Fine. Whatever. Then, Schedule Writing Manager tells me that she's in desperate need of servers for Monday night (mind you, this was 6 months ago--we're fully staffed now). I begrudgingly agreed, only because I figured that I would just pick up Friday nights. I was picking up Friday nights pretty frequently anyway, until I started teaching this teaching gig.
The class started at the end of August, and I figured I had plenty of time to plan. As I started getting into the curriculum, I was getting overwhelmed (I've never taught before--let alone at a college level), and I started freaking out. I tried to work it out until about two weeks ago, when I went to Schedule Writing Manger and mentioned that I was considering taking Monday night off my availability. I felt like I had no time in the day; between day work, night work, planning for a college-level writing course, and spending time with my family--I was swamped. Not to mention even considering the possibility of a social life. Besides, Monday nights are poop. They are a waste of my life, and since my class is on Wednesday, it seemed like a primary planning time opportunity. Having off Friday night is a tease. I have been staying home because it's my only night to plan.
Well, when I mentioned this option of removing Monday night (considering all the above), Schedule Writing Manager told me that I would have to approve it with GM because company policy states that 3 shifts is the requirement for working there. What a crock of bullshit, in my opinion.
I dropped it. I haven't said one word to the GM or any other manager. Well, last week, I was only scheduled 2 shifts and this week I'm only scheduled 2. I haven't said a word.
I am grateful; however, for the last month I have been scheduled in a 3-table section.
Nearly every shift. Even closing shifts.
After my second consecutive 3-table night, I started looking at the team sheets--hard. If I bitched too early, which I'm known to do, they would throw a number of things in my face.
1. I'm not a trainer. Trainer's are guaranteed 4-table sections (and the one new 5-table section).
2. I have late availability. I have late availability during the week because of my day job (I can't come in until 5, or the new 5:30 in-time); therefore, I'm scheduled in the back sections, and I guess they think that that makes a person a weaker server. I don't fucking know, but I know they'll try to shove it at me. They take jabs where they can.
3. I have limited availability. There are people who work over 40 hours a week (not too much over because they are pretty strict on that), and they wouldn't want to push them in a 3-table section when they put in a lot of time.
I have accepted their laws, and I take these 3 specific things into consideration when I look at the team sheet. There are a lot of rookies right now, and they are being thrown into 4-table sections before they're ready, and it's costing the restaurant money. I am a strong server--let's face it, we know who we are--we get shit done, without a hitch...usually. (There are always exceptions.) Yet, I'm in 3-table sections.
After the 3rd shift in a 3-table section, I said something to my Fav Manager (haha Fav Man...), and he fed me some line about the confusion with the sections changing. Granted, they have been changing from week to week...sometimes from day to day, but should that mean that it should be looked at with a closer eye? I don't know.
The schedule is written by Schedule Writing Manager, but on a daily basis the Manager on Duty is required to write the team sheets, make any necessary schedule changes, etc. When he/she does this, would it be so difficult as to analyze the servers scheduled, and place them accordingly? I don't understand.
This is why I'm feeling punished.
Yes, I've bitched.
Yes, I've made it known that I'm not extraordinarily happy with the way the restaurant is run.
Yes, I've been written up.
Yes, I've written a mock letter to the owner of the company that my GM found a threw away.
Yes, I've gotten into arguments with management.
Yes, I've worked over 40 hours a week.
Yes, I've run front sections successfully with zero promos.
Yes, I've had compliments from guests.
Yes, we all know, I've had complaints, but only a few.
Yes, I've worked open to close.
Yes, I've cleaned out the drains.
Yes, I've worked four doubles in a row.
Yes, I've done all of these things, regardless of any of the previous bitching, and right now, I feel like I'm being punished. Maybe it's because of my mock letter to the owner. Maybe it's because of my previous arguments. Maybe it's because they're trying to faze me out. Maybe I'm paranoid.
Even though I've been on the edge, there is a new wind right now. I'm not entirely sure it's my time to leave. There are a lot of new people, bringing new energy, and there are a lot of people who are leaving. I don't think I want to leave, unless I really have to, and now that I've been scheduled in shitty sections for the last month, it's beginning to affect my finances, so I'm feeling pressured.
Trying to go down to 2 shifts was an attempt for me to have more time to figure out the time management for my life. Now that I'm in week 6 of the course, I'm getting things down a little better. I'm adapting to the things I should prepare. I was just freaking out. I'm glad that I didn't go to the GM with it. For money purposes, I NEED to work 3 shifts a week, especially because I've been in 3-table sections.
I set up a meeting with the GM tomorrow, and I'm still not sure how to say what I want to say. Should I just sit down and ask him if I'm being punished, or should I just tell him...what? Does he really care? Does he expect me to put my 2 weeks in tomorrow because that's what they want. Okay, yes, I'm being paranoid, and, yes, I've written yet another insanely long post.
Thanks for readin' the rant, and I hope I didn't nauseate you with all the circles...

3-table section tomorrow night.

Part II (a million years later...)

I have no excuse.



Part II


The saga continues...(yes I still remember every detail of this table)...

I forgot to mention that when I brought the water and beer to the table, Jerk Monkey had two empties sitting on the edge. I still had impatient, Veggie Woman's water in my left hand, so I put the beer down and quickly grabbed the two beers with one hand--a kind of swoop. Then, I set the woman's water down and walked away in a server huff. So, I walked completely out of range from the table for a few minutes--they'd be fine, but I wanted to avoid them. They had water, and food, but I knew Jerk Monkey would need another beer, pronto, so I didn't stray too far.
I decided to go check on them, and I saw my two managers talking near the kitchen, and when I walked passed, one said, "What's up with the lady and the peppers?"
I had no idea what they were talking about, since my table doesn't like to tell me stuff. Then, the other manager chimes in, "Were you rude to them?"
I look at them, shocked that we're having this conversation. I said, "I may not like them, but I'm always polite. You know that! I don't get complaints..." (Well, there was that one, but we'll call that...a mulligan, of sorts).
Manager Two says, "Well, they said that you slammed a beer down, and you've been short with them."
What does that mean? They asked questions about the menu, I answered. They ran me for beers, I ran--I may not have been smiling, but I always brought it in a timely fashion. I was asked to bring a water, and I did, only I guess I took too long. I just didn't understand why they would complain. And the woman with the peppers? What did that mean?
I manager said that he would visit the table, and I should steer clear for a minute. Fine. When I caught up with him, he said that she didn't like the peppers in the veggie mix. Okay. They said that I seemed annoyed with them...ugh...I guess it did show...and even though I was, I SWEAR I never slam shit. I was trying to be efficient. But I guess if they sense that I'm already mad, then I guess it could be portrayed as a 'slam'. Whatever. He said the table said that the service has been excellent--that doesn't make sense. So, I basically got a complaint about my attitude, not my ability as a server.

Post Complaint
I'm pissed. And, I hate them...all.

After the talk with my manager, I go to the table to wrap any leftovers. When I approach the table, Veggie Woman says, "You should warn people about the pepper." I reply, "I don't typically warn people about the peppers because they're red and green bell peppers--they're mild." She looks at me and says, "Noooo, the black pepper." I reply, "In the description it states that it's sauteed in butter with black pepper, I apologize for the confusion, next time, you're more than welcome to request it without the pepper." With that, I prebussed the table, got the men another round of beers, and when I was returning to the table, the bartender approached me and told me that a woman from my table just asked him for a birthday cake. Fuck.
Now she's asking an entirely different employee for something! She must've been afraid of me--secretly, I love that.
Well, that just pissed me off. Part of me didn't want to do it at all, considering that she didn't even ask me. What if the bartender never told me? What then? They probably would've thought that I was(n't) doing it out of spite.
I did it. I couldn't not do it. Not after I gave them great service with a bad attitude.
They lingered.
I sneered.
They left me 20%.
I was pleasantly surprised.

Sorry for the delayed (and somewhat less dramatic) ending...

Karma? (The Long Version) Part I

Well, considering how my previous post was Satanic, I guess it is fitting that last night I had to wait on the Table from Hell.
A middle-aged couple sits down (probably mid-50s, early 60s), and they are waiting for another couple to arrive. The woman immediately goes to the restroom, while I greet her husband, eagerly waiting my arrival at his table. He proceeds to request a very bizarre margarita (tequila, triple-sec, Gran Marnier, and razzmatazz) for his wife, and a beer for himself. He didn't even really know what he was saying--he said his wife wanted something "different." So he took ingredients from every drink on the menu. When he ordered the margarita, I told him that I would have to check with the bartender to make sure that that was something we could (a) do, and (2) would it taste good. (Before I walked away he made sure to tell me that he needed more salsa. And he really wasn't letting me do any explaining...he was just talking.)
A manager actually visited the table to make sure they knew what they were getting themselves into price-wise.
Out of the gate: High maintenance drink order and greedy with the salsa.

So, fine. When I delivered the drinks, the woman was at the table. I set the drink down and she said she had a question about the menu. She asks her question about an item that included a shrimp based sauce over steak. She wasn't sure if she was going to like the sauce, so I assured her we would be happy to put it on the side (I do say shit like that--I have a schpeal for everything). I described the sauce pretty well (if I do say so myself) and thought that we were in a clear understanding about the dish. After I was speaking to the wife, Jerk Monkey was tapping his half-full beer bottle, nodding his head with a mouthful of the first half.
"I'll bring another beer and more salsa right out."

Drink order/Menu Questions: Pretty slow on the uptake. The wife seemed pretty ditsy when I was talking to her about the menu. Jerk Monkey (husband) = a drunk
Still high maintenance.

When I brought back Jerk Monkey's 2nd beer, he was holding a nearly-empty salsa cup up. I didn't say anything--I set down his beer and the other thing of salsa. He says, "Can you bring me another cup of water?" In the bottom of the cup was a little bit of salsa juice, that did look watered down--whatthefuckever. "I'll bring more salsa over for you." I say dryly. Jerk Monkey then says, "and bring me another beer." "Sure," I say.
The other couple still has yet to arrive.

Preliminary: He is already on my nerve. He's a greedy, sloppy drunk, and his wife is an idiot.

I took a little bit of time going back to the table because I wanted to space out the beers a little bit--if this guy was planning on ordering a beer every time I was at the table, he would be hammered by the time he left. And I knew he would eat the other cup of salsa, while he was waiting for his cup of "water." I made sure to strain every little tiny bit of juice out of that salsa. And he ate every morsel.

I returned with his 3rd beer and the other couple had arrived. They both ordered beers (Jerk Monkey ordered his 4th), and seemed relatively normal. The one woman had never been here before, so she was asking some questions. One question in particular was about the side of sauteed vegetables. I told her every single veggie (zucchini, squash, onions, peppers (red/green bell--mild, not spicy), mushrooms, carrots, broccoli, sauteed in butter and seasoned with black pepper). That's the schpeal. I gave them some time, yadda, yadda, yadda.

After dinner order: Still cringe at Jerk Monkey, but the rest of the table is pleasant. (I have a trunk-full of server characters that I dress up as from day to day, and last night, with this table, I was the dry, soft-spoken, yet polite server.) I'm not really trying to be overly-friendly at all, but I'm getting them the things they need.

A few minutes after they order, I swing passed the table, and see they need chips. Jerk Monkey taps his bottle, asking for his 5th. He orders one for his friend as well.

When the food arrived, I delivered everything neatly, telling them what everything was as I set it down (the usual treatment). My man orders his 6th, and when I set down his entree he says, "Is this the entree portion?" Well, it would be an awfully large appetizer (I think to myself). My actual response was, "It is a very filling dish, sir, but if you'd like something else, I'd be happy to get it for you." I ordered his beer immediately and as I was coming back with it, Jerk Monkey is standing by the kitchen doors. I go up to him, and he frantically tells me that there's something wrong with his wife's meal. I figured it wasn't well-done as she requested. And, as I was approaching the table, Jerk Monkey grabbed A-1 off another table and set it down in front of his wife (side note: I hate when tables grab stuff from other tables, and I'm at the table--pet peeve).
She looks at me with shrugged shoulders and says, "Where's the shrimp?" I say, "It's in the sauce that's on the side," and I point to the saucer. Maybe it was snotty, I don't know. But at that time I asked everyone how everything was, and they all said it was delicious.

When I came back a few minutes later, Veggie Woman (not to be confused with Shrimp woman), asked me for water. Jerk Monkey orders his 7th. As I'm returning, minutes later with their requests, the woman is talking to another server about water. I set her water down on the table and I delivered his beer.

Dinner: They are pissing me off. Every time I go to the table they need something, they've been helping themselves, and asking other servers for things when I'm being attentive. How much more attention do you people need??

I know I was kinda bitchy then--as I brushed passed her I said, "Your water is on the table."


To be continued...(we're just getting to the good part, too...)

As I write this, it occurs to me that they aren't actually the table from hell, but I did feel like some kind of bad karma had come my way, so my radical, bitchy self somehow transformed this table into Satan's children. Oy. Don't fret, there's more to come...I just took too long to write this, and now I'm out of time...

Maybe I Am Satan

Last night I worked the patio--I have never seen so many out of control children. Parents were just letting there children run all over the place! At one point, when I was at the wait station I said, "I hate children." To this comment, a co-worker turned to me and said, "That's just evil. Only the devil hates kids." Well, maybe I am Satan, but children should be taught to behave, and shouldn't be left to run wild through a patio that is a accident waiting to happen. And, as an amendment to my comment about hating children, I say, "I hate inattentive parents." Every last one of the parents on the patio last night were more concerned with their adult conversation then their children getting a plate in the face.
At one point, I was taking an order at a table, and when I backed up to walk away, I knocked this little boy who was standing behind me. He smacked his face on the chair, and I immediately apologized, but inside I was strangling the parents. What are you doing??
Parents, teach children that sitting while eating is customary. If you choose to eat while running around, wrestling with your brother, or racing in between tables, then you may not be in the right establishment--that's called Chucky *fucking* Cheese.
Thank you.

On the Edge

I've been on the verge, now I'm on the edge...of quitting. You all must think I've been dangling on this edge for quite some time--well, for a while, I was merely meandering around the edge, not getting too close. Now, times have changed.
President's have changed, and have decided that making changes in his new restaurant is a great way to make a first impression. He sucks. He has not said one word to an employee, unless prompted by an outstretched hand or an audible greeting. His hand shakes like a fish, and his eyes wander anywhere but the conversation.
This new President has decided to make asinine changes--he changed sections, he changed in-times, he changed the arrangement of our stocked items, he changed arrangement of tables. He's After his first attempt at changing sections failed, he decided to change again (unaware or uninterested in the fact that we change them ourselves from time to time, as an establishment). His newest change, has me swinging my feet over the edge about to jump. We have 14 sections, from the front to the back of the restaurant. He has decided, oh, he in his infinite wisdom of corporate policies and accounting mumbo jumbo, that the first 6 sections must be at least 1/2 or 3/4 of the way full (2 or 3 tables each) before seating sections 7-14. WTF? This pisses me off because I have another job, so I can't start working during the week until 5:00--sections 7-14 come in at 5:00. Bull shit. The other night, I was closing, and I was in section 9--I didn't have a full section until nearly 7:00, and by that time, I was ready to go ballistic.
Even though I'm this close to quitting, I can't afford to not wait tables, so I will just find another stupid serving spot.
And the cycle continues.

A Perfect Example

Tonight started off weird. I realized, as I was getting ready for work, that I didn't have my server book. It wasn't the fact that I didn't have the book (I have an extra), it was that I had an actual paycheck in there and a few of my rantings. I tend to write while I work, rather than flip out on a ridiculous patron or management. It's worked. Well, I've had rantings in there for quite a while (because I haven't had time to blog them--after which, I typically throw them away), and I was worried that they had fallen into the wrong hands.
The first thing I did when I got in to work was go in the office. I asked one of the managers if he had seen my server book, which he had; he remembered puttin it aside since there was a paycheck in it. He and I, and another manager, searched the office, to no avail. I did tell him there were rantings in there, but I thought it was no big wup since they all know I blog. No book. So I leave the office for about ten minutes, and then I return. I see a book sitting right on the office counter, and I point to it (thinking that it's probably the one book I did find that wasn't mine). It was mine, minus the rantings.
I ask the managers if they have them--no one knows anything. I even asked the GM (he knows I blog too), nothing. I said something to a fellow server about it, and she said she saw "Manager" with them. When I approached him he said GM had them. At this point, I say, "Listen, I don't care who has them, at this point, I just want them thrown away." BTW, one of the rantings was a mock-letter that I would love to send to the owner, but going through with sending it would essentially be a waste of my time.
They give me this fucking runaround, which is pissing me off. Finally, I get really serious, and I the MOD to be straight with me. He said he read a couple lines, then gave it to GM, who read a little bit and threw it away. Why couldn't they just tell me that? Why did they have to be so cryptic and weird about it? At one point, MOD said something about my rantings expressing that we servers don't get ANY respect, and I believe this is a prime example. If they respected me, I don't care if they read it and threw it away, they should've just told me that. We're adults, not 10 year-olds playing keep-away with their little sister.
I shook it off after a little while, but it did piss me off. The rest of the night was fine. Made decent money for how slow it was. It'll pick up soon though--school's back in session soon.

Patio Monday Night.

More Apologies

I haven't forgotten about blogging! I've just been working like a DOG!! As usual, I guess. I'm hoping to have some time coming up, but I'm not going to make any promises. I closed tonight, and I do have a few things written in my server book that I want to discuss, but it's too late. I promise, I haven't stopped bitching!

Lunch tomorrow.

Hurtin'

I am hurtin' for cash! I worked last night, which was a bust--but I was out by 9:30, which is great in our place (and, now I'm even more depressed because I figured out the math, and I made shit). Tonight, I did pretty well, considering it was pretty dead for most of the evening. Big Heads are in town again. The Regional GM (RGM) and the new President of the company--that's super big. Everything was changing. They took away our rolling station, and replaced it with the highchairs/boosters/slings. I approve of the this change because the boosters were likely to topple at any moment, and guests (and employees) have knocked a tower over from time to time, and that's dangerous. I've even seen a stupid host pick up a highchair and nearly slam a guest with it. They just weren't in a great spot. But, I am disliking it because now they are talking about not letting us roll silverware during the shift. This sucks because I like to keep up on it, so we don't have to roll a TON at the end of the night. We had to roll 90 tonight, and it sucks. If we keep up on it, it could be half. Anyway. (I usually just let all the hoards take all the silver, I do my sidework, and clean my section, and by the time I'm finished, there's barely enough for 90--I work around it most of the time.) The Big Heads are here tomorrow too, but I don't think they'll be staying too late into the dinner rush. Everyone's just all uptight. And big-headed.
I don't really like to talk smack about my co-workers on here, but this girl pissed me off! She's in good with management, particularly the GM. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason she still works there. She's mean to the rookies, and she's mean to the guests. She can run tables, but not very happily. This is all contradicted by the fact that she's a loud-mouth, too-much-make-up-wearing-perverted-35-year-old-who-goes-after-18-year-olds-bitch. When I first started, she tried to sabotage me. She's just dirty. But, she's in good with the GM, and I learned that nobody wins against her, so I decided to be cordial, but not go out of my way. One day, I got her back for the sabotaging, and I spoke with GM friend very frankly about the things that she was doing (crushing chips on my tables, spilling salsa on chairs in my section, sweeping shit into my section after I cleaned it--shit like that). So, yes, I tattled. I don't care. But, from then on, she was nice to me, whatever. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. That definitely comes into play here.
Well, tonight, I was a little busy, not in the weeds, but pushin it. I was running a credit card, when I see this girl and her trainee (yup, and she's the meanest trainer ever--ridiculous) dropping my food. I realize I hadn't brought a side-plate for the man's entree, so I run to grab him one. The way our restaurant is set up, people are sitting on top of each other. Tables are pretty close together, and sometimes, I can see it being uncomfortable for the guest, but people fill those tables. It was a two top, and she had already given the woman her meal, I got the plate, but the tray was in front of me, the trainee, in front of the tray, beside bitchy lady, in front of the table. I reached around gave her the plate, and told the man I'd grab him a refill. I thought that gave her time to finish dropping the food, and I was still taking care of the table. She said, right in front of my table, to her trainee, "She should really drop this." Meanwhile, I have a credit card slip that I need to give to a table who is ready to leave. I didn't leave her dropping a six-top. Then, I saw her heading in to the office with GM. I got paranoid. She loves telling on me. I went up to another manager, told him the story, and told him that she was in the office spewing her evil on GM. The other manager went in, and told me that she was telling on me, but there was something else more serious that had nothing to do with me. Fine. GM never said anything to me, but that doesn't mean he won't wait for another day. She's such a super-bitch, I can't stand it.
That dampened the evening, but then my sister, her husband, and their two friends came in and sat with me, so that made everything better...for a little while at least.

I picked up tomorrow night.

Fallin' Off

I've been so busy lately, I haven't really worked...that's both good and bad. I really need the money. It sucks being broke. Hopefully someday I won't have to worry--or wait tables. Ugh.
Both last week and this week, I was scheduled on the patio. Last week, it rained, so I was sent home. Yesterday, I was on the patio, and I had one table in an hour and a half and made $2 (it was a small child and a grandma sharing a salad). I was so frustrated. I was also frustrated that they had so many people on a Monday night. There were 12 servers inside, 2 on the patio, and 2 bartenders. Everyone was standing around with their thumbs up their ass. It was beat.
There was no need for 2 people on the patio. That's where seniority should've come in....
I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead. I really don't want to get into bitching about management again.

Dinner tomorrow (no patio!).

Super-Duper-Looper

Saturday was the roller coaster ride from hell. The evening didn't start out well because I knew that I was in a piss-poor section for a closer. I was all the way in the back of the restaurant. That sucks! Not only are the hostesses too fucking lazy to walk tables to the back, when they do, it's big-tops. My restaurant requires a table of 10 or more to be split--fucking ridiculous, I know, but their motive is speed. Management believes that with two servers the table will turn faster. They are right and wrong about this, but I'm not bitching about that.
Regardless, a 13-top was sat, using 3 of my 4 tables, and I had to split with this girl that I can run circles around in my sleep. She's slow and mopey and kind of a pain to split parties with. Anyhow, we get it going, meanwhile I have one 3-top and Mopey Molly has 2 and an open big-top in her section. They seat it with a 10-top, and I suggest that we split it (under the same pretences as the 13 was), she says, "I can take it by myself." Insinuating that I was suggesting she was incapable of taking the table. "That's not what I meant," I said, "I just thought I'd make a couple extra bucks while running 1 and a half tables." "Oh, well, I've already gotten them drinks." She says as she walks away. I wouldn't have wanted to share it either, but I probably would've asked, considering we were using nearly my entire section for a table that we share.
Needless to say, it was rocky, and I was rocky. I was a bitchy mess for the majority of the evening.
Cuts went up early, and this is where the roller coaster started to get fun, rather than sickening. As soon as cuts went up, a stream of people came through the door. One table after another. We were getting sat almost consistently for 20 minutes after cuts went up. It was awesome. Running 7 tables makes the entire night worth it. I got better tips after cuts than I have all week. I ended up leaving with decent money, even though I tipped out nearly $40 (ugh). I was pleased with outcome.

No restaurant until Wednesday. :)

Amendment

I would like to start by posting an amendment to my previous post. Written earlier in the week, I decided that it was a waste of my time to bitch about my restaurant. Even though I'm going to try to accept the way it's run, my bitchiness will have to be channeled elsewhere...I have chosen the guests. They do so many nice things for me, I figure I'll give them the spotlight for a while. Why not?
Tonight I felt like I was waiting on people from Mars. They just weren't right...I don't know. I was sat with a five-top (2 couples and the odd man). They ranged in age from 40 - 65. They were alright (at first). Then things started to go wrong. They start to order dinner, and I always ask the ladies first. Lady 1 orders, fine, Lady 2 begins to order, and Lady 1 begins to spastically half-wave to me behind her friend. I'm trying to ignore stupid, Spazzy McLady 1, but I'm having trouble asking the menu questions with her right behind her friend. Finally, I turn to Lady 1, without saying a word. "We'd like separate checks." She says, out of breath from all that subtle waving. "Let me know at the end of your meal." I said this as quickly and dryly as possible and continued taking Lady 2's order. How rude?!?! And to think, she had to ask me that question right then, at that very moment, because God-forbid she may never see me again. Absurd. So fine, they order, whatever...then, as I'm delivering their food, Odd Man asks for another fork, I nod to him and continue delivering the tray. I haven't even left the table yet and he says, "My fork?" I look at him and I did say, "I'll have your fork in a moment, sir, I haven't left yet." I do feel bad about it now, but I felt it was so demanding at the time. I clearly acknowledged him when he asked for it. I'm not sure where he thought I could pull it from, but it really annoyed me. I made it up to them by giving them efficient service, and I brought them their separate checks without being reminded. Although, Lady 2 tried to remind me, but I anticipated it and answered before she could ask. They were decent tippers.
The next Mars-ian table were these two old women. It was like Grandmom and Great Grandmom out to dinner. Bad idea. I greeted the table to this, "I'm gonna need an orange soda, another side of salsa, chips no salt, extra paper napkins, and two plates." All in one breath. I shit you not. I said nothing and returned with their items. I felt like I was going to scream. I gave them one million years to look through the menu because every time I approached them, they still had no idea. Great Grandmom didn't have her glasses. Didn't have her glasses, or didn't feel like reading the menu herself. Every time I stopped by, I answered a few questions. Finally we start talking about one specific menu item, which is a basic grilled chicken breast dinner with fries, nothing fancy, very mild, yadda, yadda, yadda. I spent 15 minutes trying to talk to these women about this entree. Meanwhile, I had a margarita sitting at the bar. I tried to grab another server in view, but it was difficult. (I did make eye-contact with the woman waiting, so I think she understood that I was being held up.) These women were so confused. At one point, I was describing our vegetable medley (an alternative to fries) and I told them it was seasoned with black pepper, and she says, "Black peppers??" "No, black pepper." This is when I feel like slapping my forehead and walking away. Black peppers? Yes, we season everything with black peppers...on Mars! Finally, their order is in. Eating was a slow process, and when they were finished, they needed boxes. Well, at this point, I was tired, so I offered to bring them boxes. I knew they would be particular about the way it was packed, so I decided to save myself the hassle. I brought them boxes, and got, "I'm gonna need, another box, a cup for the salsa, a lid for the sauce, and fresh chips to-go." They also needed separate checks because the couldn't figure out what they each owed. What a mess. Senior Citizens should not be allowed to dine unsupervised. I've said that for a long time, and tonight it has been proven once again. I'm going to start a movement for necessary supervision.

See, no worries, I'll always find something to bitch about!

Close Saturday.

Accepting the Inevitable

Tonight, while talking with a good friend from work, I realized that my constant need to berate the restaurant is slowly fading. I'm coming to understand that I'm fighting a losing battle. I'm a little thick-headed, what can I say?
Now that I've nit-picked the restaurant up and down the walls, I fully understand the way this restaurant runs. I know how to act depending on the manager on duty, and I know the way that things will flow depending on the kitchen manager. Knowing this, I have begun to adapt to the idiosyncrasies around me while I have to be there. This makes the evening less painful for everyone.
I don't think I'll ever be able to keep my mouth shut completely, but it's getting better. I know the blogs have been bleak...they have been for a while now. I'm pretty busy, and time doesn't really lend itself to too much writing. But I'll try. I think I'm going to try to focus on the idea of "informing the non-serving public" with my blogs, rather than bitching about a restaurant that I can never change. Instead, I need to use the information I have to my advantage. I'll try.

Toast: To Bitchy Waitress' never-ending quest to stop bitching.

Patio tomorrow! I hope it's beautiful! Keep your fingers crossed!

What's Seniority?

Lately, it has become apparent that my establishment disregards seniority altogether. We have a very new staff (summer always brings 'em around), and although I think we've finally found some good eggs, I think management is swelling their pretty green heads. There are a handful of rooks who are pretty smart and picked things up rather quickly (imagine that), and management has already started scheduling these people in sections that were once considered senior sections. Now, they're for rooks apparently. They've even been scheduling new people on the patio, which was definitely a senior section when I first started. It's frustrating.
Thursday night was my first patio shift all season. I was excited, and it was worth it. It was a gorgeous day, and patio people are generally pretty happy.
Although, as I always say, there are exceptions. I did have this one family--an 8-top, who were miserable from the start. I could barely hear any of them, they were talking down at the table, rather than up, looking at their server. It was weird. They didn't really have facial expressions. The mother ended up sending her entree back, claiming it was undercooked. I couldn't tell if they were pissed or just miserable people. They ended up leaving 18%.
Hopefully there are more patio shifts in my future...

Off this weekend--no restaurant until Wednesday! Wow.

What a Monday!

I went into work hoping to make money, but confident that Monday wouldn't bring out too many patrons. To my surprise, it was relatively busy. I just got stuck with every high-maintenance table possible. It started off with the most high-maintenance family on Earth!
Of course, they are ready to order the moment I greet them (which isn't always bad, but in this instance, I could've shot someone). The parents may have been ready to order, but the process of asking their children what they wanted was done in my presence, tapping my foot, scratching my head with my pen, and finally stepping away long enough to ask a fellow-server to run refills. Finally they order, but it's highly modified. No this, no that, only this, don't bring this. All four modified their order. Unbelievable. Then, as I'm standing at the computer, the mother comes up to me and asks for barbecue sauce for her daughter to dip her chips in...ew. At this point, I'm in the weeds, and NO ONE was doing any sidework. We have a very green team right now, and they are lazy, lazy, lazy. I could've fought someone. I was tempted to hit someone with the ice bucket, but I didn't want to create a scene.
The daughter must've drank the bbq sauce, because she stood up in the isle next to her table to ask me for another side. Ew again. Meanwhile, dad has sucked down his iced tea, and junior has sucked down his soda. When the food finally comes out, there was some garnish on the plate, and the mother says to me urgently, "Take that off the plate! They won't eat it." I look at her blankly, and hand it to the passing manager.
MOD (manager on duty) fixes the kids' meals when I meet her in the kitchen. I get them out lickity-split, and the mother hands me a pile of fries and says, "Can we have hot fries?" Sure. This is all putting me farther and farther in the weeds. I didn't do too bad, but I definitely neglected a couple of my low-maintenance tables. That makes me feel bad.
My second HM table was a middle-aged couple who knew the menu better than I did (or they acted as if they did). They asked for obscure things that just were a pain in the ass. Like dressing and sauces to dip their chips in...weird. They went through more chips than I thought were possible for two people to consume. Yuck.
Then, after the HM family left, the hostess told me that my family was waiting. I was happy they decided to come in and see me, but I wasn't quite out of the weeds, so at first, I was a little annoyed. My mom was acting silly, and I love that side of her, but she got under my skin a little bit. Like, when she was trying to order a drink, like she never had one before, "What's that drink I like with the salt around the rim?"
"Uh, a margarita, mom, you know, like the drinks we had last night?" And, because they're my family, they are very time-consuming. They want to chat, and ask questions about the menu, and I don't mind that, but at the time, I was a little annoyed. It was really a culmination of running for every other table, then have to run harder for my family. Mom kept saying she was in no rush, but I also didn't want them to feel like I wouldn't work for them...if that makes sense. Well, I fucked it up anyway because I forgot mom's beer (she switched after that funny salt drink).
An exhausting evening, to say the least.

Dinner Wednesday.

Cute Little Something

This is a cute little something from the other night:

I go over to greet the 2-top that has just been sat in my section, "Hello, how are you?" The two teen-aged misfits (obviously on some kind of awkward first date) just stared at me big-eyed, as if they didn't know why I was at their table. So, I ask them if they'd like something to drink. The boy chimes up quickly: "Do you have virgin Pina coladas?" he asks in a high-pitched, Steve-Erkel (sp)-gone-bad kind of way. "Yes we do." I nod to him, then turn to the girl, "and for you?" She looks at me blankly and says, "Do you have virgin martinis?" I barely held down a snort, trying not to laugh, "I've got Daiquiris, how's that?" She smiled, that's exactly what she wanted, she just didn't know--and, I didn't have the heart to tell her.

It would have been hysterical if I brought her olives...

La-ti-da, no work till Thursday!

A Heart to Heart

The continuing saga...
Where was I?? Oh, yeah, sobbing in the parking lot after being sent home by a manager who left me. Weird. Frustrated just wasn't the word. I just had to suck it up and get over it. That's just what I did.
First thing Monday morning, I went in early for my 5:00 shift to speak to GM. We sat down, and I told him that I didn't feel I was given a fair trial. I explained what I heard, and he apologized for the miscommunication. His reason for being so furious was somewhat valid. Over the course of the last six months, all I seem to do is complain. He felt like some of my complaints were valid, but wondered why I would stay in a place I so badly wanted to change. I expressed to him what I explained previously, that something is keeping me there. I don't know what it is...perhaps it's because this is the first place where I am proud of the food I serve. It's not too pretentious, the atmosphere is great, and people generally don't have any complaints. I like the people I work with--I have made some wonderful friends over the last 1 1/2 I've been with the restaurant. And, at times, it can be fun. There are just some underlying issues that I see, that I can't help but express.
I understand his point of view. I'm annoying. I don't mean to be annoying, really I don't, but I know that I am and sometimes my personality is difficult to work with. A few months ago, one of the other managers sat down with me to discuss my attitude and why I'm so negative about the restaurant (this, by the way, is why I'm not a trainer, and I understand that also). Since then, I have been making a strong effort to be more pleasant to work with--constructive rather than complaining.
Bottom line, the conversation was positive. We're beginning on a clean slate, and that means, I'm beginning with a better attitude. It's much easier now that I'm not working so much.

I actually haven't checked my schedule, so I'm not sure when I work this week...

Are you Kidding??

Saturday night started off fine. I was in a great mood. Everyone was in a good mood...or so I thought. When shit hit the fan, I didn't even have time to duck for cover. I really don't know what happened, but the ridiculous meter is off the fucking charts!
I was scheduled to close, and I was actually looking forward to it because rent was due the next day.
One of the first things I did upon entering work was find my General Manager and thank him for allowing me the opportunity to train a couple evenings before. I thanked him. Does that sound right? I didn't think so. I thanked him. Although, in my heart of hearts, I knew that I should have been thanked--just as I should have been offered a training position 6 months prior. But whatever. I thanked him and that was that.
So, the night was going just fine. It was around 9:00-ish. I had a six-top whose food I just delivered. Before leaving the table, one man told me that his steak was cold. I immediately took it to the kitchen. The kitchen manager promptly told his staff to put the steak in the microwave! In the fucking microwave! I don't even know why we have one of those! We don't microwave! Upon hearing this information, I ran and tattled! I'll be damned if I serve a microwaved steak! My GM assured me that the KM would not microwave the entree. Well, dontchaknow, when I got that plate from the kitchen it was scalding hot! That means, it was microwaved. I was pissed. I begrudgingly delivered the steak, and when I went back to check on him, he looked at me, then at his wife, and replied, "It's all right." I felt awful, especially because I knew why it was just "all right."
I was pissed, fuming around the restaurant, when my GM approached me. I told him that the guest was not happy with his meal, but he didn't send it back again, so I wasn't sure if GM was even going to take it off the bill (stingy isn't the word). I was standing about 20 feet away from my GM when he said to me, (or so I thought), "Are you going to comp the check??" "No," I said as I scrunched up my face. With that, my GM's eyes bulged out of their sockets, the vein in his forehead poked the guests behind me, he pointed at me, and told me I was going home! What?! I was so confused. I didn't understand what just took place.
I followed GM into the kitchen, whereupon I asked him why I was going home. He said, "I asked if you were going to calm down, and you said 'No'--you're going home." I smacked myself in the forehead and tried to explain what I heard, but it was too late. He didn't want my explanations. He didn't want my excuses. He just wanted me to go home. I asked if we could discuss the situation. Apparently, if we were to discuss it, my GM would say something he would regret. Fine, "Am I fired?" No, I wasn't fired, I was just sent home. What bull shit!
So, I was being sent home because I did not hear my GM. I felt betrayed in a way, somehow...like the man with the steak. I finished up my tables in a ball of tears, upset and worried that I wouldn't be able to pay rent. I was distraught for the team that I was leaving, considering I wouldn't be there to help close. I just felt bad. When my tables finally finished up, I went back to turn in my "cash out" and the other manager was in the office. "Where's GM?" I asked, sniffling, but hoping to discuss this situation further (I like to fix things). "His shift was over. He's gone," I'm informed.
Are you fucking kidding?
"You're telling me that this man gave me a punishment, then didn't stick around long enough to make sure that it was followed through with?"
The other manager just shrugged his shoulders. I felt abandoned. I felt like my superior unjustly sent me home, then took the coward's road straight home. Fuck that.
I finished "cashing out," grabbed my things and ran out of there, still crying for the fact that I was short for rent. Once I returned home, I realized that I was only $20 short, so all was fine, but I still felt really hurt and upset by the entire situation.

I will post the continuing saga after tonight's shift. Sorry for the lack of posts--busy just isn't the word to describe what's been going on in my life. :) Happy Reading!

Dinner tonight.

Surprise, Surprise!

I worked last night, and to my surprise, they had me training! I haven't officially been made a trainer, but they're "throwing" people in to see how they would do--or something like that. In fact, they didn't even inform me that I was training--after shift meeting, I went up toward the host-stand, when this very tall gentleman came over and introduced himself as my trainee. I thought it was a bit unprofessional to not tell the trainer that she's training, but I got over it quickly.
It was my first time training in this restaurant, and I can't lie--it wasn't easy. It helped that my trainee was smart and caught on quickly. Too bad it was slower than molasses. Super slow. I felt bad that we didn't have work to do. Then again, he said we seemed pretty busy, but he hasn't seen us in action yet. The entire bar was empty! Crazy. All in all, I think it went well. I hope they continue putting me on as trainer. Yay.
This week coming up is Graduation Week, so hopefully the bucks start flying! I've been praying for rain (in the form of fifty-dollar bills)!

Close Tomorrow.

Detached

Tonight was fine. Tonight was actually one of the better nights I've worked. Morale was good. Good staff. Good. I didn't make great money, but I was out of there at a decent time (and did well for the actual time spent). Anyway...
I think part of the reason tonight wasn't that bad was because I hadn't worked in a week. It's crazy the things that happened while I was gone. There are new bartenders, new servers, new managers, new drama (another senior quit). Just a lot of shit. A lot of shit that I didn't have an opinion about because I wasn't around. It felt good. It really did feel good to be detached.

Dinner tomorrow.

Mini-Vaca...not really

I haven't worked at the restaurant since last weekend, and that feels great, but man, I've been busy! This weekend my cousin got married, so I drove with my family 6 hours to attend. It was a great time, but exhausting!

Because of my weekend excursion, I'm totally broke, so I predict some extra shifts in my future!

Stay tuned...

Dinner Wednesday.

Gripe of the Day

I haven't even been in the restaurant for two days, and I have a gripe. I have a gripe because of my scheduled shift this evening. I know that everyone has availability, and it's hard to accommodate a lot of people, but that's when seniority should have the upper-hand. When I started this new job, I only wanted to work Thurs, Fri, and Saturday nights. That was a big fat "NO." So, then I reverted to Wed, Thurs, and Sat, but my manager told me that they DESPERATELY need people Monday nights. It's amazing how busy Mondays are! (I hope you sense the sarcasm.) So fine, I gave her Mon, Wed, Thurs, and Sat (with the deal that she would only schedule me 3 of the 4 days). In addition, I told her that I would close the restaurant every Saturday night, if she didn't schedule me to close during the week. I have to wake up early, and it's difficult after getting out of there at 1. So, like clockwork, the last three weeks (the first three weeks of my new job), I have successfully closed at least one of my weekday shifts and the Saturday night shift.
I want to go in there and demand respect...demand a schedule that will not deem all-nighters...demand that she get off her high-horse, quit writing the schedule out of spite, and start respecting the people she's scheduling.
I know how daunting it is to write a schedule, I did it for nearly three years. I understand the frustration of everyone having separate schedules, but I also know the value of good employees, and I have great organizational skills. Once all the ethics are in place, the schedule practically writes itself.

Monday Blah-day

Once again, I would rather not drag myself to that restaurant again, but I suppose there is no other way for me to keep my house except work. Ugh.

Saturday night was weirdly slow. The interesting part about the evening was that, even though we were slow, tickets still managed to come out of the kitchen wrong--not completely wrong, but they would forget stupid shit--shit that they should not be forgetting. So, I said something to the MOD about the fact that the kitchen only had five tickets in the window and I needed a table-call because of their laziness/illiteracy. She turned to me and told me that the kitchen was dealing with other forms of stress and that's why. Okay, so great, you can fully justify a stupid mistake by your kitchen staff, but the moment one of the servers has to have something "promo-ed" we get reamed for it, talked to about it, or have tables taken away. Unbelievable.

This week is ridiculously busy, but I fully intend on signing up for "Lunch with GM."
I also fully intend on making his head spin.

Dinner tonight.

Conclusions

I've come to the conclusion that I simply cannot wait so long between posts anymore! Even though I'm only at the restaurant 3 nights a week, there is still so much going on, that it really is stressing me out.
The GM started this thing a few weeks ago--"Have lunch with GM!" He has a slot on Tuesday and one on Thursday. At first, I thought I would spare him and keep my opinions to myself (it never goes anywhere anyway), but at this point, morale is so low, I feel it's necessary. It's cyclical, which I've explained before, and I would like him to see the cycle. I've already expressed my feelings here, but I think it's time.
However, I do have my concerns. Now that I'm only working a couple nights a week, I don't know if he'll take me seriously. No, I really don't like waiting tables, but I do take pride in my job and the establishment where I work. No matter what my job is, I take pride. And that's the thing. Obviously, something has kept me there--the people, the cuisine, the patrons, the money--something has kept a lot of us there, and those people should be respected and know their worth at the company. We don't know our worth--we know that we are disposable and could be cut at any moment. It should have to be that way.
I don't want to leave and go to another restaurant. I know this one, and I'd prefer to stick around in a place where I'm comfortable (to a degree).
I'll write more later...

Guess What?

I really don't want to work tonight! :(

I Miss You

I had no idea that transitioning into this job would be so difficult...well, it's not really difficult, but it's an adjustment I didn't realize would take so much out of me. I really like my new job. And I really enjoy the part about me not being at the restaurant as much. The ridiculous meter is off the charts.

Cinco
Cinco de Mayo, a lovely drinking holiday that brings everyone out. We were insanely busy (even though it was a Monday). We had tents set up outside, and the patio. I was inside, which I was bummed about at first, but I got over it. I was in a decent section, with happy patrons, and happy employees. I ended up getting sat with a co-worker and her eight friends, so that really made my evening enjoyable. It was the longest day of my life, but well worth it monetarily.

Drama
All last weekend we considered Cinco because it fell on a Monday. So, the first day of Cinco (Friday) the computers went down. Down-down. I, luckily, was not working, but the crash kits were pulled out and everything was done manually. Saturday morning when I got there, they were still down. Crash kits again. Everyone was tense, and those who had worked the night before were already frustrated because they already had one shitty shift, and they felt like they had to get ready for another. It was extremely difficult. When a "turn-and-burn" restaurant's computer system goes down that usually means that they are fucked. Especially during a holiday weekend. (I call it karma, but I'll get to that in a minute.) I only worked lunch Saturday (again, luckily), and I stayed in the zone to make sure that I was doing everything right. I wrote everything legibly for the kitchen staff, made sure to tally up the ticket properly. It's just weird because it's not what we're used to. If this were a diner, we'd have no problems. We had the prehistoric credit card machines--automatic rubbing system--pretty funny. But, we only had one, so that was a pain in the ass. When the shift was coming to a close, I immediately figured out my own sales, food sales, liquor sales, and asked to "check out" before completing my side-work. My GM and I sat down, did the entire check-out and agreed on the amount owed, etc.
Well, that night I hear that check-outs didn't go so smoothly. People claim they didn't make enough money, or that they owed too much. Some say that management on duty didn't know the proper formulas to figure out cash owed, etc. It was a mess. It even caused a senior server to quit, and it's a shame because she was a very hard worker and a good server.

Stupid Shit
Last night (Saturday) I got my ass kicked. I was in the first section, the farthest from the servers' station and the kitchen. It's a great section, but it's hard! I was sat my first 3 tables within 15 minutes. That's how the night started, and that's how it proceeded for the remainder of the shift. I snapped at the hostess (like we all do), which I had to apologize for later, because she is my friend, but it did upset me that she was seating me so incessantly. I know that it's preposterous to say this, but I really do wish that we could put the hostesses in our shoes for one day--shit, one round of being flat-sat, then tell me if they'll do it again. I say it's preposterous because of course we know that they wouldn't last, but maybe if they had some perspective...who am I kidding...
Moving on with the flat-seating...When I bitch about said flat-seat, I get this response, "Ask for help." If all servers are being flat sat, then they really don't have time to help others (there are usually a couple servers who are good for help, but on a whole everyone starts fending for themselves after the shift picks up). I know that being in the section I was in last night, I found it very difficult to find time to help anyone. That's also why no one can keep up with running side-work. If everyone is scrambling to get out of the weeds (and let's face it, some of them don't), no one can do anything. Pace the wait (I know I've talked about this before).

No Smoking
Ever since some dumb asses decided to tell the RGM they were going out to smoke, there is a ZERO tolerance level on smoking. Over Cinco, however, that did fall off a bit, so last night, I took a chance. Around 8:30, I told the GM that the trash was overflowing, and I would take it out. He asked if I had a minute. While I was taking out the trash (which really was overflowing), the other manager on duty came walking around the building. I yelled that I did ask permission, but she still seemed confused. Either way, we went inside, finished the shift, whatever. So after close, after check out she asked me about "the incident."
MOD: What exactly did you say to General Manager when you asked to go outside?
Me: I said that the trash was overflowing, so I would take it out.
MOD: Did you say anything about smoking?
Me: No, I figured any manager I asked to take out the trash, they would know that I would sneak a smoke while I was out there.
MOD: Okay, well General Manager didn't know that, and he wanted me to right you up.
Me: Well, I want you to know that I didn't mean to be malicious or anything, I just figured...
MOD: Well, I'm not going to write you up, but I wanted to let you know.
Me: Thanks very much...

Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm thankful she didn't write me up, but this no smoking thing is killing most of us. The thing that pisses me off the most, which makes me want to rebel even more, is that they allow the managers to "take a drive" during the middle of their shift to smoke. They are allowing the people who are in charge of all the people to leave the property, while on duty, to smoke a fucking cigarette, but they won't let their employees run outside to relieve some stress. Unreal. I just hate the fact that management is not leading by example. If they can't get through a shift without a smoke, why do they expect us to. I'm all for stipulations, and I sure do know how people can abuse certain privileges, but come on. This is ridiculous.

Close tomorrow (even though I asked for no closing shifts during the week because of work, but who am I? Oh, that's right, I'm just one of their senior staff members, and that means squat)...

Coming Soon...

Cinco de Mayo update.

My thoughts on training techniques.

Employee Drama.

Ah, who am I kidding...the "norm" coming soon! :)

Busy Week

I certainly have been busy this week. I started my other job, and I told the restaurant I would work an extra shift (4, rather than 3). Needless to say, I haven't been extremely motivated to wait on hungry patrons. Last night, I was the QUEEN of giving away tables. I didn't want to deal with anyone. Sooo, at 8:15, when it was dying hard, the hostesses started to set up a 10-top in my section. She said that they weren't all there yet, so she would stall for as long as possible. I was so scared that I was going to get that table. I didn't understand why they wouldn't just give it to a closer, but whatever. I ended up approaching the closing manager like this, ", may I express a concern?" I proceeded to tell him that I was worried that if I took the 10-top I would be there all night, and I have my new job in the morning. All he said was, "I'll take care of it." The next thing I know, he put cuts up! Way too early! Two out of the three closing servers were relatively new, and there were still people walking in the door. I feel partly responsible, but then again, I have no control over what the manager decides to do, I was simply asking if he could give the table to a closer, just so I wouldn't have to be there all night with them. I would have taking another small-top if need be. Whatever. I did my side work and did what I could to help. They seemed okay when I left, but they were "jammin' " (as my mother would say).


I have a funny story. A couple nights ago, there was a table of six in the section next to mine--four adults and two children). The one small child was a boy around 5 or 6, the other, a toddling little girl. The boy had on those "wheelie" shoes (sneaker with a wheel on the bottom of each), so he was "wheeling" around the table the whole time--and the whole time, I was dodging this little kid. So, at one point, I was going up to the table sitting parallel to the Wheelies, and I had a stack of plates in my hand. I wasn't really paying attention to this small child at the moment because I was focusing on my table. Well, next thing ya know, this kid "wheels" out from the table and slams his head on the stack of plates in my hands. I know it hurt a little. If not from the blow, from his embarrassment. I apologized quickly, but I was pretty angry at this little imp and his no-discipline parents. I threw the dishes in the wait station, kinda pissed off, and stormed to the kitchen. I needed to scream, and it was coming out no matter what! I freaked out for a minute, re-gained my composure and went back out into the dining room. I immediately went back up to the child to make sure he was okay, then I turned to the table I was trying to take care of before. When I went over, I apologized and said, "Before that little catastrophe, I was going to ask if ya'll needed boxes." The girls laughed, and the one said, "We wished you'd have hit him harder!" Awesome!

Patio tomorrow night!

Table 43

While I was taking the order for the 10-top of vegetarians who decided to make their own menu, I was sat with 2 adults and 3 small children at one of my other tables. This family frequents our establishment at least once a week. I actually waited on them last week, and they ran the shit out of me while I was running 7 other tables during mid-shift. So, after I finally got things squared away with the Veggies, I went over to greet the table. My attitude definitely changed upon seeing them. I knew they were going to ask for a million salsas (both with their chips and with their meals), and their children make a horrendous mess! Messier than normal children, that's for sure. It seems to me that these children have a personal vendetta against all waitstaff and have vowed to throw every piece of food, drink, or crayon onto the floor. I was polite--I always am--but I was not overjoyed to be serving them. Tonight was weird because, even though they run the shit out of me, I usually get 20% out of these people. Last week, they left me $6 on $29. This week was different. First, I knew they were going to run me, so I grabbed 3 salsas off the bat. Then, I knew he was going to down his soda, so I brought refills way ahead of time. I also brought their extra salsas for their entrees out before their food arrived--I consider this efficiency. (I was taking care of a 10-top of high-maintenance vegetarians too, don't forget.) They got the same thing they ordered last week, so their bill was exactly the same, and they left me $3 tonight. It did occur to me that I had my manager drop off their 3rd basket of chips, and I asked a co-worker to grab the kiddies their 3rd round of chocolate milks (before dinner). Maybe that's why they didn't tip me though. Who knows? All I know is that I hope there is never a "next time."



In other news: I started my new job today! Again, it's only part-time, so I'll still be trudging away at the restaurant to make ends meet, but I'm happy that I'm moving on. One foot out of the restaurant and in somewhere else! I think this is going to work out nicely. :)

I also want to apologize for the lack of posting lately. Things have been crazy-busy in Bitchy World! ;)

Off tomorrow...Closing Wednesday.

The People

Humans are interesting creatures, especially when they're hungry. I'm convinced that hunger brings on bouts of delusion, severe mood swings, and temporary insanity. Over the weekend, I had a number of memorable guests.

1. Saturday night: I was working the patio :) and, of course, people were trying to sit at available tables while they were waiting for a table inside. Ugh. I can't really do anything about it, but I do go up, tell them that it's full service outside, yadda, yadda, and when they turn me down, I politely tell them that I will have to ask them to move if someone does want the table. Anyway, at one point, I see two young guys sitting at the round 5-top on the corner of the patio. I go up, give them my schpeal, then return inside. A couple minutes later, I see that a couple more people joined them, a dad and a grandmother. Then, I see this woman coming from the bar with 4 beers in her hands, and she heads to the round table. It hits me that she has put the beers in front of the young boys, who are no more than 19...the one looked 16, honestly. I immediately tell the bartender, who has much more experience handling these situations, and he did...beautifully.
Bartender: Hey guys, I'm gonna need to see your ids.
Dad: They don't have them with them.
Mom: They're 21.
Bartender: Sorry guys, without an id, it puts our liquor license in jeopardy, I'm going to have to take these.
They didn't protest, because they were obviously caught, but what nerve! Who has the audacity to buy drinks for their minor children?? If you want to be the "cool parent" and let your kids drink under age, that's your choice--Do it under your own roof, on your own property, not someone else's, especially a well-known restaurant. How stupid can you be?

2. Sunday morning, I picked up a shift. People were idiotic, but I'm glad I picked up, it was worth it monetarily. I wasn't really feeling that great when I woke up on Sunday, but no biggie, I needed the money. Because I picked up a shift, I was put in the last section, but because it was Sunday, I didn't have to go in until noon, so I was sat immediately. 3-top, followed a couple minutes later by a 7-top, and another 3-top directly behind. Yuck. I see this happen while I'm getting the drink order for the 7. The 3 has a small child in a high-chair, so they are taking some time getting settled. Cool with me, I don't need to be rushed. So, I walk passed the 3, and tell them that I will be right with them. They are all standing around the table--they haven't even sat down, and the woman says, "I can order." I'm sure I gave her a dumbfounded look, but I told her politely that I would be right over for her. This woman proceeded to run me for the duration of their stay. I think her hunger brought on all three of the side effects I mentioned above. Finally, toward the end of their meal, I asked them if I could wrap anything for them. She tells me to bring her a box. Fine. So, I try to clear some of the plates, and when I start to take hers that has a pile of onions on it, she tells me she wants a box for that too. A box for your fucking onions? That's gross. Even her hubby was like, "You wanna take those?" Weird.

3. Today: A young couple, probably 18 or 19, nice, friendly, whatever. When I go to run the kid's credit card, it declines for me, so I asked my manager to ring it in manually, just in case his strip isn't working, whatever. It was a busy mid-shift, so I let him handle it. The kid's card was declined--my manager got another--declined--and another--declined. I hope he had been with his girlfriend long, otherwise that may have been the end...Anyway, my manager agrees to take the kid's id while he went to get cash to pay the bill. The bill was $29.10. The kid comes back an hour later with $30. Great. I guess in the frenzy of realizing he maxed out all of his credit cards, he forgot to tip his waitress. I did walk out on the patio as he was getting in his car, but I didn't say anything--it's really not worth it.

Well, there's the top 3 for the weekend.

Off tomorrow!! Dinner Wednesday...

The Cycle

Scenario:
Vomitus server (suspected food poisoning), calls establishment two-or-so-hours before her shift to make management aware that she is ill and pukey. The manager she speaks with tells her that if she plans to call out, she should know that they will require a Dr's note. Of course, she, like 85% of the staff, does not have health insurance; therefore, it's extremely expensive to run to the doc's every time you catch a bug (or food poisoning, in her case, which just needs to run its course).
Regardless, she shows up for her shift, pale, disgusting, projectile (not really, but close), yuck. Nary a manager spoke to her, asked her of her state, her feelings. Nothing. She was in a "front" section, which stays busiest, but she was willing to tough it out. Luckily, the night started out slow. She only had one table when her sickness caught her again, and she was off and running. She felt ashamed to go to the managers and tell them she was sick. This is the type of environment we're working with. All of us tip-toe on eggshells, and we don't feel like we can tell our superiors that we're feeling ill. I felt so bad for her...she was emotional, ill, and afraid that she was going to have to suffer all night, when all she wanted was bed.
Finally, I went to the MOD, who didn't really shrug at it, which annoyed me. Why aren't they sending her home?! I then said something to the other manager, who had a more urgent reaction. Finally something is going to be done about this. Even if they don't care about her, having a vomitus server is no good for the restaurant, either. Let her go home! Then, it comes out, the first manager I spoke with tells me that Pukey is supposed to close, so they would be short, and they "didn't feel like scrambling around to find another closer." Are you kidding me!? This is ridiculous. So, of course I say "I'll close." So what, I opened today, I can close, and open tomorrow--no big wup. Really, the only reason I told them I would close was because they wouldn't let her go home otherwise. After Sicky went home, I went around to the "singles" and asked if they could close for her. Two "rookies" stepped up and said they would close for the cause. Taking one for the team, right? It happens. I was so happy that they were so ready to help. It makes me feel good about the newer staff. :)

I brought my feelings up to the managers, like I always do, and they told me that it was stupid to talk about it considering everything was fixed. They're right, they do have a point; however, I'm talking about common courtesy. If someone is visibly ill, shouldn't the proof be in the...well, you know...?? Unbelievable.

Everything worked out fine, and it was relatively slow...It was so gorgeous outside today, I wouldn't want to sit in a restaurant either.

Open tomorrow.

Check It Out

Check out this week's Round Table at Well Done Fillet! Thanks Manuel!

The House of "No"

I feel like I should get a good vent out before going in to close...

Last night sucked on many levels. The first being that NO ONE showed up for their 4:00 shift, so me and one other server were on and taking tables. We each had 5 tables, and slowly other servers started showing up for their shifts. That just got the night off to a rocky start. And Regional GM and Corporate Server Lady (the one that I love) were in the building, just adding to the stress of the shift. At one point, I was double-sat, and the hostesses were freaking out about where to put people, so I told them to seat me again...big mistake! I gave that table pretty bad service, and I'm sorry, but unfortunately, it does happen.
So, during this clusterfuck of weeds, I dropped off a beer to a table, but I was also dropping things off for other tables, so when I set it down, I just turned to hand something to the other table. I don't know, really. All I do know is that the RGM pulled me to the host stand three or so minutes later to tell me that I dropped the beer on this table, and he alluded to the fact that the table was pissed. I went over, apologized, and told them...Evidently, I set the beer on something so it wasn't level...it happens. I tell them that I had no idea it fell over, or I would have helped them, yadda, yadda. Meanwhile, RGM takes off both their appetizers and the beers. I couldn't believe they were so angry. In addition, I just assumed that my RGM had brought the man another beer, so I stopped at the table to ask if they were okay. He seemed to be finished his meal, so I offered to take his plate. The man just looks at the frothy beer sitting on his table and said, "Uh, yeah, can I get a beer." "OMG, I'm so sorry, I thought he was bringing one for you!" At this point, I'm pissed, I think my table is pissed, and my RGM is definitely pissed. So, I go to take the man's plate, and he tells me that he's not finished. I was so confused and still in the weeds, I put the plate down and immediately brought him his beer. After a couple minutes, he pulled me to the side and told me that he wasn't angry, he just needed napkins and a beer. I felt like such an asshole! And I was really pissed at my RGM for making me feel like the table was utterly irate. It just changes everything. I probably could have been able to relax more if I knew they were okay...Operation Communication. Ugh.

The title of this post stems from the list of "No's" that I'm constructing. Hopefully, in the next few weeks this will change. I think the two big-wigs are trying to implement some morale boosting techniques, which makes me a happy girl.

Anyway, welcome to the House of No:

1. No free food.
2. No extra tables (unless in a closing situation)
3. No breaks on Sat/Sun
4. No drinks to-go
5. No to-go (unless you pay full price and are not working)
6. No smoking
7. No parking near any entrances
8. No coming in the back door
9. No boys can wear earrings
10. No colored hair-bands
11. No eating on the fly
12. No "money shifts" only (even if you're a 'senior server')

The list will continue, for sure. I'm gonna stop venting so I'm actually in a good mood for my shift tonight!

Closing.

Update

I mentioned in an earlier post about having an interview...well, I got the position! It's a part-time position, so I will still have to work a few shifts at the restaurant--I just won't have to depend on tips as my primary source of income. It feels good.
Because of my mood, tonight was a breeze...not to mention, it really wasn't that busy. I still made out pretty well after tip-out (and I had $200 in liquor sales, so I tipped the bar $10...everyone was drinkin' tonight).
The bittersweet part about not waiting so much, is that I won't have much blog material...Who am I kidding??? I will always find material!
I'm considering just working Thurs., Fri., and Sat., nights, but those are "money-making shifts," and now, all of a sudden, my manager is worried about "being fair." Please. Haven't I earned some money-making shifts??

Here we go again. :)

Dinner tomorrow.

Round Table XVII

Round Table

Service Industry

Blog Carnival

XVII

Welcome back! I'm happy to host this week's edition of the Round Table! Get comfy!

It's been a long week for everyone, it seems. But, we all made it out alive...barely.

Ribeye dealt with stupidity on a new and exciting level. It's stressful enough being a server, but it's even harder when your guests are idiots. Even though Ribeye had more than his fair share of shitty tables, he did prove, once again, that there are always exceptions!

Manuel, over at Well Done Fillet had a run-in with the chef and warns the non-serving public of the barrage of bull-shit we waiters have to put up with from the kitchen staff. Sorry you had to go through all that, but thanks for spreading the word. :)

On the flip-side, Waiter experiences an act of kindness from the chef that is rare and beautiful. Chefs who aren't wrapped in their egos tighter than their lettuce wraps are one of a kind...and a change of pace (in fact, where I'm from, I haven't met one chef who was nice to the serving staff). Also, don't forget to check out The Waiter's book cover! Congratulations!

Ali touches on many server pet peeves. From guests who think they are the only patron in the establishment, to ignorant couples who whistle when they need something. Ali handled it with much more patience than I could have. I also thoroughly enjoyed the story at the end of the post about the manipulative bar guest. Kudos to your regular for telling her to get lost.

Upset Waitress offers up some TMI and laughs in her busy post. We all know that when it comes down to it, we can all trust that UW will tell it how it is. :)

Tony describes certain co-workers to a tee...in fact, I would nominate myself as belonging to Group 2 (everyone else I work with would too). Thanks for opening my eyes as to how my fellow co-workers might view me. It makes me want to be a less-bitchy waitress...for now...

Shrimp Queen's eclectic blend of co-workers makes for an interesting post. It has my mind boggled, that's for sure. I particularly love Queenie's vision of resolving the issue--perfect Bitchy Form! ;)

Bitter Waitress has a lovely review for anyone hankering Mexican! Check out Taco Boy!

Restaurant Gal had a lucky night of food and fun! Congrats on your winning evening! You can really pick 'em! :)

In Ryan's follow-up from a previous post, he touches on a sensitive, yet relevant, subject. His story is inspiring, and his viewpoint is strong and clear. I love the image of "basing your faith in actions." Thank you, Ryan.

All servers are tough critics when they go out for a recreational meal. Lobster Boy proves that it's nearly impossible to turn off the server when trying to have a relaxing night off. The frustrations of waiting tables will follow us for eternity! :P

Thanks to all for tuning in to the Blog Carnival this week. Once again, it has been my pleasure to serve you!

~BW

Pre-Shift, Post-Vent

Last night was a clusterfuck of ridiculousness (in my opinion). At one point, the KM mentioned how the restaurant was, once again, flat sat. When I go to my manager to talk to him about this, he looks at me, wide-eyed, then he tells me that I'm complaining as much as the kitchen staff, and he wonders if I have any suggestions. When I told him about "pacing the wait," he didn't quite understand. He told me that I should teach him how to pace the wait because he doesn't know how. At this point, I'm getting annoyed because he's a smart guy, so I didn't think pacing the wait was that difficult...evidently, it is. He thinks that pacing the wait would take us from a 40 min wait to an hour wait. Honestly, I don't think it will add 20 minutes onto the wait time, but it will extend it a little. Is that such a price to pay for food that actually comes out well-made and on time?? With the flat-seating comes mistakes, weeds, and angry customers. He says that once I've figured it out, to let him know. Well, patronizing me is also not going to make me happy.

I was in a great section last night, until, you guessed it, they pushed my motherfucking tables together again. I was in my fav section last night, too, they really know how to ruin everything. Then after that first big-top left, they left it together because my GM told me it was for a 10-top...I was great with that until they sat a 7-top there! I confronted him, and of course he tells me that the 7-top was first, but I think he's full of shit.

The other thing that's really been bothering me, is that we're making all these changes...promoting servers to assistant managers, facilitators, bartenders, etc. Now, I know (and so do you) that I'm a complete bitch, but I know the menu, and I know the restaurant very well. I just bitch so much, that I guess they just want me to leave at this point. My point is, that no one even came to me and said, you know, if you weren't such a bitch, we'd ask if you want to be a bartender, or even a trainer for that matter. Nope, nothing. I know that I'm a decent server...except last night, I felt like a rookie because I got in the weeds pretty good (but that's a direct result of flat-seating the restaurant). I probably wouldn't take bartender if were offered to me because I don't want to be there, but just to know that they would like to promote me would make me feel like they respected me an ounce. Right now, I don't feel like they respect anyone.

I have an interview on Wednesday for a Part-time position. So, I won't be able to leave the wonderful establishment entirely, but at least it won't be my primary source of income. I should go...

Close tonight.

Announcement

Don't forget to check out this week's Round Table over at Bitter Waitress!

Next week, I'll be your happy hostess!

Double Tomorrow.

In Need

Tonight was slow.
Slower than the average Thursday.
Haven't figured out why, but whatever.

I was scheduled to close, and by the way the evening was going, it looked like it was going to be an early night...until four tables walked in 10 minutes before the dining room closed.
Two 1-tops, a 2-top, and an 8-top. I had the undeniable pleasure of waiting on one of the 1-tops, a man in his mid-to-late thirties. When I first greeted him, he asked to move to an area of the restaurant that had better lighting. After he moved, asked obnoxious questions about the menu, and changed his order twice, he asked to move to the bar. Well, he wanted to sit at a cocktail table to watch the game, and the bartender didn't want anymore guests than I did, so I just kept the table. His food was up wicked fast since the kitchen was trying desperately to close, and when I delivered his entree, he asked if I ordered the other entree we had discussed. "No, I didn't, I thought you changed your mind," I said, kind of surprised that the man wanted another entree. He then asked if I would mind ordering it for him anyway. He looked at the entree in front of him and told me that the other entree couldn't be any bigger than the one he had in front of him. I responded by telling him that all of entrees were of generous proportions, and I told him that if he's going to order it, I should order it expediently considering the time ticking away. He told me to go ahead and order it. Well, I've never seen an entree fly out of that kitchen faster, but he had it within minutes. After I delivered his second entree, he started asking about one of our appetizer "dips." By this point, I didn't want to order ANYTHING. The KM was already pissed that four tables walked in when they did, and now this guy was being a douche and ordering a ridiculous amount of food. The guy then asked me what his tab was up to. I printed his check for him, and showed him. He decided against the app--thank God. Then, he asked what we offered for dessert!

Grand total: 1 Beverage and 2 entrees = $19.31. I saw a $20 on the check, and he was standing by the cocktail table. I started clearing, and left the money where it sat. He asked me if it was okay if he ran to his car to get my tip. I shrugged my shoulders, a little uncomfortable about this conversation, and told him it was fine. He ran out to his car and returned in less than two minutes (meanwhile, I went and got the change for the bill, I rounded to $0.75). He told me that he couldn't find any more change in his car, and he handed me $0.31. Then he mentioned how he wasn't going to be able to pay the toll...so I told him if he needed the change, it was really okay. What else was I supposed to say?? He took the $0.75 and left his $0.31...weird. And he will still be a quarter short for the toll.

And to think, if only he hadn't been a COMPLETE glutton, he would have had the money to tip his waitress.

Open-double tomorrow.

A First...

Tonight, I had a table ask the hostess for another server. This has NEVER happened to me before. I don't doubt I was a little annoyed with the table, but I didn't say or do anything mean...per se...

First, I was annoyed in general because my manager decided to triple seat me (it was really a double-seat, but I had just put the drink order in for a table that was sat before the others). This pissed me off because they sat my 10-top table with a 5-top. And I notice that another server has one table and an open 6-top. Why wouldn't they quickly buss that and seat the table there?? So, I, of course, make it known to my manager that it's bull-shit, but I proceed to greet the tables. I was definitely feeling weeded, but I made my rounds as efficiently as I could. I set the chips down at the 5-top and asked for beverages. The "lead" gentlemen asks for bottled water. Then he asks for a large bottled water. I tell him that we only offer one size. He asks if it's the "large"...I tell him that I can go get one to show him before he ordered--he then told me that he knew it wasn't the large because it was 500mL. Oookaaay. 2 bottled water, 2 ginger ales, and 1 lager. As I am preparing the drinks, I notice that both the ginger ale's are empty, and a manager has to change it. So, I deliver the bar drinks (of course I checked the bottle...sure enough, he was right, but why did he have to ask me then?), and tell them I'll have the ginger ale's in a minute. When I bring the sodas, the "lead" man yells that they wanted lite ice. Well nobody TOLD me this! I don't understand. So, at this point, I'm kinda weeded, but my other tables are nice enough(although pretty high-maintenance, which added to all the weeds), so I'm trudging through, but his demand definitely annoys me. I'm sure my annoyance showed. I can't help it--I don't usually keep too much hidden, but I'm a good server, and I'm polite-ish. I don't know. I just never thought that this man would get up and ask for another server! I guess it worked out for both of us. I can't lie, I didn't really want the table, but I wouldn't have ignored them. I would have given them everything they needed. I don't know. I have to shake that stuff off, but it was just weird. Then, I dropped dishes in my section while they were there--I'm sure they were praising the karma gods for that one.
The other three tables in my section didn't have a problem: $8 on $32; $8 on $30; and $7 on $26.

Close dinner tomorrow.