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.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
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!).
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!).
Sunday, July 6, 2008
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. :)
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. :)
Thursday, July 3, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
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!
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!
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