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. :)