Today - Class: 8:30 a.m. - 9:50 a.m. / 6:00 p.m. - 8:50 p.m.
Today, on Facebook, a co-worker asked me for my blog address. I sadly admitted that I hadn't updated my blog in nearly a year. From that post, I was prompted to check my blog. I was surprised that it hasn't been quite a year, yet, but I am definitely rounding that bend.
Update: I am no longer a secretary! I am currently an adjunct instructor, teaching 4 English classes a local college. I am still working at the restaurant to make ends meet, but I am out of that hellish secretarial world that bogged me down for far too long. I definitely have some funny stories that I could share. So, perhaps I will pick up the blogging game again.
I hope this is a Welcome Back post, and not just a fleeting moment of updates...
Tomorrow (Wednesday) - Class: 12:30 p.m. - 2:20 p.m. / 2:30 p.m. - 4:20 p.m.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Tree House
Well, my last post explained my absence because of some unexpected turns. Well, another one just hit. Literally. Thursday, March 10, a 90 ft, 5,000 lb Oak tree hit my little house. I was in the house at the time and thought the world was ending. It was really unbelievable. The house is still standing; however, I do believe the foundation suffered a pretty severe jolt. I've spent the weekend with family and friends, and my vagabond existence may continue if the damage creates an unsafe living environment. I'll keep you informed, but posts may be limited for a while. Keep checking in!
~Darby
~Darby
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Miffed
Today (Tuesday): Secretary / Server
Because of the cloud I am sitting on, tonight wasn't as bad as it probably could have been. It was a slow Tuesday night. We did get a "push" around 6:30 or 6:45, but nothing to write home about. I did not have a full section once...oh, wait, I did.
Here's the story:
Crazy Girl (I've mentioned her before) was in a closing section that consisted of a big-top (6 people max) and three small-tops (4 people max). One of her small-tops was sat with her new boyfriend, an obnoxious hostess, and some other dude. Crazy Girl and I had a heart to heart a few days ago, so she approached me at the start of the shift, and asked me to come meet her new man. I didn't really care, because, honestly, I don't really consider Crazy Girl my friend. However, I do have a soft spot for her because I think she's one of those people who just doesn't know. She doesn't know how to act in social situations, she's wildly inappropriate, she's too trusting, she has a big mouth, and she has more of an attitude than I do most days. She's crazy. Because of this, I've made it a point to not hang out with her outside of work. I can barely handle her in work. A few months ago, she finally got my number out of me, and she called me pretty incessantly about random shit that would end up taking 40 minutes out of my day. I put her back at arm's length; however, I've still maintained the role as a friendly adviser. I don't hate her--I just know I have to be cautious with her. I digress...
She had a table at her her big-top (probably around 7:30), and they had been there for a minute. I noticed the woman from the table talking to the MOD (Manager on Duty), and I heard her describing her "plan" as I walked by. Turns out, her plan was that more people were joining her, and she needed a larger table. She was expecting three more to her party of five, and her plan was to move to my big-top (8 people max). Crazy Girl dropped some things off at my big-top (a beverage and a bar drink), and I turned to her and said, "You're keeping them, right?" She set the items on the table and said, "Nope," then walked away. I was taking care of my other tables, so I didn't follow after her. Once my tables were square, I walked up to Crazy Girl and she handed me a slip of paper with her chicken-scratch order. It is policy in our restaurant that if you start a table, you must finish that table. There are extenuating circumstances from time to time, but this time did not warrant an extenuation. For some reason MOD transferred them to me, which miffed me. If any other manager were working, that never would have happened. When I asked her why she was transferring them, she replied that it wasn't fair. What isn't fair? That she started the table, took their order, somehow managed to not ring it in; now, it's my table, cuts are about to go up, and she is closing? I'm not sure how fairness got brought into it. I approached MOD and explained to him more clearly what exactly happened. He said he forgot she was closing. Whatever.
It wasn't the fact that I had to take the party. It was actually pretty easy, since the order was already taken and the drinks had already been fetched. All I had to do was get drinks for the newcomers, take their orders, and deliver the food. They ended up boxing up most of their food, and they left pretty quickly. I had a $17 gratuity (plus $3 extra), so it worked out fine. My whole issue is that I felt it was a dirty move on Crazy Girl's part to get the party transferred when she was a closer. I was miffed because she ended up cleaning her section while I was waiting on her table. I just felt like she didn't want to deal with them, so she wanted to pawn them off. Because of my soft spot for her, I was going to try to approach her again before I left, but I decided against it. Some people just never learn.
Tomorrow (Wednesday) Secretary / Server (hopefully getting my shift covered)
Because of the cloud I am sitting on, tonight wasn't as bad as it probably could have been. It was a slow Tuesday night. We did get a "push" around 6:30 or 6:45, but nothing to write home about. I did not have a full section once...oh, wait, I did.
Here's the story:
Crazy Girl (I've mentioned her before) was in a closing section that consisted of a big-top (6 people max) and three small-tops (4 people max). One of her small-tops was sat with her new boyfriend, an obnoxious hostess, and some other dude. Crazy Girl and I had a heart to heart a few days ago, so she approached me at the start of the shift, and asked me to come meet her new man. I didn't really care, because, honestly, I don't really consider Crazy Girl my friend. However, I do have a soft spot for her because I think she's one of those people who just doesn't know. She doesn't know how to act in social situations, she's wildly inappropriate, she's too trusting, she has a big mouth, and she has more of an attitude than I do most days. She's crazy. Because of this, I've made it a point to not hang out with her outside of work. I can barely handle her in work. A few months ago, she finally got my number out of me, and she called me pretty incessantly about random shit that would end up taking 40 minutes out of my day. I put her back at arm's length; however, I've still maintained the role as a friendly adviser. I don't hate her--I just know I have to be cautious with her. I digress...
She had a table at her her big-top (probably around 7:30), and they had been there for a minute. I noticed the woman from the table talking to the MOD (Manager on Duty), and I heard her describing her "plan" as I walked by. Turns out, her plan was that more people were joining her, and she needed a larger table. She was expecting three more to her party of five, and her plan was to move to my big-top (8 people max). Crazy Girl dropped some things off at my big-top (a beverage and a bar drink), and I turned to her and said, "You're keeping them, right?" She set the items on the table and said, "Nope," then walked away. I was taking care of my other tables, so I didn't follow after her. Once my tables were square, I walked up to Crazy Girl and she handed me a slip of paper with her chicken-scratch order. It is policy in our restaurant that if you start a table, you must finish that table. There are extenuating circumstances from time to time, but this time did not warrant an extenuation. For some reason MOD transferred them to me, which miffed me. If any other manager were working, that never would have happened. When I asked her why she was transferring them, she replied that it wasn't fair. What isn't fair? That she started the table, took their order, somehow managed to not ring it in; now, it's my table, cuts are about to go up, and she is closing? I'm not sure how fairness got brought into it. I approached MOD and explained to him more clearly what exactly happened. He said he forgot she was closing. Whatever.
It wasn't the fact that I had to take the party. It was actually pretty easy, since the order was already taken and the drinks had already been fetched. All I had to do was get drinks for the newcomers, take their orders, and deliver the food. They ended up boxing up most of their food, and they left pretty quickly. I had a $17 gratuity (plus $3 extra), so it worked out fine. My whole issue is that I felt it was a dirty move on Crazy Girl's part to get the party transferred when she was a closer. I was miffed because she ended up cleaning her section while I was waiting on her table. I just felt like she didn't want to deal with them, so she wanted to pawn them off. Because of my soft spot for her, I was going to try to approach her again before I left, but I decided against it. Some people just never learn.
Tomorrow (Wednesday) Secretary / Server (hopefully getting my shift covered)
Monday, February 28, 2011
Naughty Server
Monday: Secretary *played hooky* / *off*
I haven't posted because life has taken some interesting and time-consuming turns. This month has been a roller coaster of sorts: one that has brought some things to light, and one that has presented me with certain aspects of myself and my personality that I think I'd like to change. I have become a bitter person. I believe I've become jaded. Not just through the service industry. This attitude expands into my personal relationships; consequently, I've been single for four years. I'm trying to make some changes, and make some moves to find happiness in companionship, rather than solitary autonomy. I definitely don't want to give up the independence that I have. I like that I don't have to answer to anybody. But I'm just beginning to admit that I would benefit from having a companion...someone to share experiences with. I don't know. Things happened this month that will never cease to amaze me, and will stay in my memory forever. Details are unimportant, but let's just say that this weekend has left me smiling ear to ear. It's about damn time.
Regardless, my bitterness is not something that is redeemable or endearing. It can be the source of great comedic material, but on a whole, I'm sure it gets old for the people I work with. I am very outspoken, although I do know how to be professional. Sometimes my emotions take over for my professional side and get me into some trouble. I know I've posted about this problem before.
I actually played hooky today, so I have no specific gripes. This weekend is a blur, so I have no server gripes either. Perhaps my smile will last throughout the week...
Tomorrow: Secretary / Server
I haven't posted because life has taken some interesting and time-consuming turns. This month has been a roller coaster of sorts: one that has brought some things to light, and one that has presented me with certain aspects of myself and my personality that I think I'd like to change. I have become a bitter person. I believe I've become jaded. Not just through the service industry. This attitude expands into my personal relationships; consequently, I've been single for four years. I'm trying to make some changes, and make some moves to find happiness in companionship, rather than solitary autonomy. I definitely don't want to give up the independence that I have. I like that I don't have to answer to anybody. But I'm just beginning to admit that I would benefit from having a companion...someone to share experiences with. I don't know. Things happened this month that will never cease to amaze me, and will stay in my memory forever. Details are unimportant, but let's just say that this weekend has left me smiling ear to ear. It's about damn time.
Regardless, my bitterness is not something that is redeemable or endearing. It can be the source of great comedic material, but on a whole, I'm sure it gets old for the people I work with. I am very outspoken, although I do know how to be professional. Sometimes my emotions take over for my professional side and get me into some trouble. I know I've posted about this problem before.
I actually played hooky today, so I have no specific gripes. This weekend is a blur, so I have no server gripes either. Perhaps my smile will last throughout the week...
Tomorrow: Secretary / Server
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Mini Reprieve
Today: Secretary / Server
I didn't blog for a couple days because I just haven't had the time. I should really be getting to bed, so may be quick. My biggest *peeve* about the office (well, there are two), the first is a pretty big peeve. I'm sick and tired of instructors thinking that their only activity should be instructing and grading papers--maybe going to a conference or a meeting here or there. Otherwise all they do is complain. Correction: some of them complain. 85% of the people in our departments understand the "big picture," and know that there is more involved in working for higher education that just teaching. There is a huge burn-out rate in any teaching profession, I don't understand how some would think that higher ed would different. Regardless, there is a kind of resistance to anything clerical or administrative. I almost feel like a parent, disciplining small children. I'm the secretary, for crying out loud, and I have to follow-up with you for paperwork you've had for two months? As instructors, they get pissed when students don't follow directions or get things in by the deadline, but as instructors, they somehow think it doesn't apply to them. I wrote an email to an instructor at the beginning of last week, asking if I could be of any assistance processing the necessary paperwork that she's had in her possession since January 12th. She didn't even respond to my email. She said nothing to me regarding any of it. Yesterday morning they were on my desk. It's fucked up, really.
The other little *peeve* is listening to other people's stories. A lot of people who walk in the office seem to think that the secretaries need and want to hear their entire life story. Because we're just secretaries? I don't know. Sometimes we need specific information to better serve the student, but general information is usually sufficient. For example, I had a student come in yesterday:
Miss: Hello. May I help you?
Student: I have to turn in this paper to Mrs. K.
Miss: [standing, and reaching for a notebook] I'm going to have you sign it in. (We have students sign-in when they drop off paperwork to document the receipt of said document. We ran into an issue last semester when a student kept saying that she "gave her work to the secretaries" but it never reached the instructor.)
Student: [filling out the sign-in sheet] Yeah, I was sick and she said that I could email it to her.
Miss: [confused, silent]
Student: [still filling out the sign-in sheet] I couldn't even get out of bed. She said I could email it, but when I tried, I kept getting an error message. I don't know if she got it, but I thought I would just drop it off. I'm behind on other assignments now.
Miss: [taking the notebook, replacing on the shelf] I'll be sure she gets it. Feel better. [heads into the Copy Room to escape gabbing germy.]
She wasn't even as bad as some people I've experienced. I just have to say this: I generally don't care. When I was teaching, I also did not care about your story. We all have a fucking story. (I made myself think of George Carlin just then. I've been watching a lot of him lately, and I've decided that he and my mom had a love affair in the late 70s, and I am really George Carlin's love child.) We all have a fucking story. The fact that she told me her story did not make my job or the way in which I performed my job go any differently. I did not change a thing, knowing that she had been sick and was supposed to email it...or whatever. I still put the time/date stamp on the girl's assignment and put it in the appropriate instructor's mailbox. If she had simply told me she wanted to drop something off and sign the book, I still would have put the time and date stamp, etc., etc.
When I was teaching I had strict policies on deadlines, etc. I don't care if your dog ate it on the way to school while you were changing a flat tire. Telling me that did not help the assignment appear. Telling me that just made me annoyed that you spent the time thinking of that excuse because you just don't have your work. Here's how it will go:
Miss: Henry, do you have your assignment?
Student: No, Miss, I do not.
Miss: Turn it in tomorrow by noon for a 20% reduction.
Is that so hard?
Miss: Can I help you?
Student: I'd like to drop off this assignment for Mrs. K.
Miss: Sign it in please.
Student: [obliges]
I just think people think that everyone cares about them. I do not. I do not care why you can't get your shit together and remember your appointment. I do not care that that instructor won't let you add his/her class. I don't care that your dad is the security guard and you think you're hot shit. I just don't care. I have work to do! My job does revolve around the opening and closing of the door, but unfortunately, it is much more than that. When you go into the doctor's office for a check-up, and you're waiting in the reception area, do you strike up a conversation with the girl behind the counter? No! That's why some waiting areas have those little windows. They have work to do, and sitting around talking to people all day will NOT make the "To Do" list shorter. State your business, and take care of it--and only tell me the pertinent information.
Thank you.
Tomorrow: Secretary / Server
I didn't blog for a couple days because I just haven't had the time. I should really be getting to bed, so may be quick. My biggest *peeve* about the office (well, there are two), the first is a pretty big peeve. I'm sick and tired of instructors thinking that their only activity should be instructing and grading papers--maybe going to a conference or a meeting here or there. Otherwise all they do is complain. Correction: some of them complain. 85% of the people in our departments understand the "big picture," and know that there is more involved in working for higher education that just teaching. There is a huge burn-out rate in any teaching profession, I don't understand how some would think that higher ed would different. Regardless, there is a kind of resistance to anything clerical or administrative. I almost feel like a parent, disciplining small children. I'm the secretary, for crying out loud, and I have to follow-up with you for paperwork you've had for two months? As instructors, they get pissed when students don't follow directions or get things in by the deadline, but as instructors, they somehow think it doesn't apply to them. I wrote an email to an instructor at the beginning of last week, asking if I could be of any assistance processing the necessary paperwork that she's had in her possession since January 12th. She didn't even respond to my email. She said nothing to me regarding any of it. Yesterday morning they were on my desk. It's fucked up, really.
The other little *peeve* is listening to other people's stories. A lot of people who walk in the office seem to think that the secretaries need and want to hear their entire life story. Because we're just secretaries? I don't know. Sometimes we need specific information to better serve the student, but general information is usually sufficient. For example, I had a student come in yesterday:
Miss: Hello. May I help you?
Student: I have to turn in this paper to Mrs. K.
Miss: [standing, and reaching for a notebook] I'm going to have you sign it in. (We have students sign-in when they drop off paperwork to document the receipt of said document. We ran into an issue last semester when a student kept saying that she "gave her work to the secretaries" but it never reached the instructor.)
Student: [filling out the sign-in sheet] Yeah, I was sick and she said that I could email it to her.
Miss: [confused, silent]
Student: [still filling out the sign-in sheet] I couldn't even get out of bed. She said I could email it, but when I tried, I kept getting an error message. I don't know if she got it, but I thought I would just drop it off. I'm behind on other assignments now.
Miss: [taking the notebook, replacing on the shelf] I'll be sure she gets it. Feel better. [heads into the Copy Room to escape gabbing germy.]
She wasn't even as bad as some people I've experienced. I just have to say this: I generally don't care. When I was teaching, I also did not care about your story. We all have a fucking story. (I made myself think of George Carlin just then. I've been watching a lot of him lately, and I've decided that he and my mom had a love affair in the late 70s, and I am really George Carlin's love child.) We all have a fucking story. The fact that she told me her story did not make my job or the way in which I performed my job go any differently. I did not change a thing, knowing that she had been sick and was supposed to email it...or whatever. I still put the time/date stamp on the girl's assignment and put it in the appropriate instructor's mailbox. If she had simply told me she wanted to drop something off and sign the book, I still would have put the time and date stamp, etc., etc.
When I was teaching I had strict policies on deadlines, etc. I don't care if your dog ate it on the way to school while you were changing a flat tire. Telling me that did not help the assignment appear. Telling me that just made me annoyed that you spent the time thinking of that excuse because you just don't have your work. Here's how it will go:
Miss: Henry, do you have your assignment?
Student: No, Miss, I do not.
Miss: Turn it in tomorrow by noon for a 20% reduction.
Is that so hard?
Miss: Can I help you?
Student: I'd like to drop off this assignment for Mrs. K.
Miss: Sign it in please.
Student: [obliges]
I just think people think that everyone cares about them. I do not. I do not care why you can't get your shit together and remember your appointment. I do not care that that instructor won't let you add his/her class. I don't care that your dad is the security guard and you think you're hot shit. I just don't care. I have work to do! My job does revolve around the opening and closing of the door, but unfortunately, it is much more than that. When you go into the doctor's office for a check-up, and you're waiting in the reception area, do you strike up a conversation with the girl behind the counter? No! That's why some waiting areas have those little windows. They have work to do, and sitting around talking to people all day will NOT make the "To Do" list shorter. State your business, and take care of it--and only tell me the pertinent information.
Thank you.
Tomorrow: Secretary / Server
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Good Intentions
Today: *Off* / Server (closing!)
I had every intention of blogging about the office today, but I'm scheduled at the restaurant soon. So, I've decided that I'll post about the office tomorrow sometime, to avoid getting "all fired up" before work tonight. For the next few hours, I'm going to relax and enjoy myself.
I had every intention of blogging about the office today, but I'm scheduled at the restaurant soon. So, I've decided that I'll post about the office tomorrow sometime, to avoid getting "all fired up" before work tonight. For the next few hours, I'm going to relax and enjoy myself.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Much-Needed
Thursday: Secretary / Server
Friday (today): Secretary / *Off*
So, funny thing...I worked last night, but decided not to blog because it was pretty late by the time it was all said and done. I figured I'd have time this afternoon, since I wasn't scheduled and didn't really feel like picking up a shift--so sue me (I can't pay you anyway.) Back to the "funny thing." I should have blogged. I totally should have blogged. Focusing on this task has shown me its importance.
Thursday Night: Server
The night started out just fine. I was in a great mood, and my section buddy was Daisy, my BFF! Great way to start the night. We weren't scheduled on until 5:30, but the restaurant had started to fill, so we told Big D (the MOD) that we were ready. They immediately came back and pretty much flat-sat our sections. No problem. Apparently it had been dead during lunch, so I welcomed the business. My section was two "small tops" (max 4 people) and two big-tops (max 6 people). Great. Except for the fact that we didn't have any "small tops" on the wait. I asked if I could split up one of my big tops (to make 2 smalls...), which I was permitted and, therefore, had a 5-table section. Even better. Now, I had 4 small-tops and one big. My first big-top was sat with a family of four, but I was okay with that (at least I had a table!). They were a family: father, mother, older brother, younger sister, and it appeared that the father spoke very little English, and the mother did not speak English at all. When I was taking their drink order, the father was verifying English terms with his son. The father was interested in ordering a margarita. He asked "flavor?" So, I sold him on a strawberry margarita "on ice." The older brother ordered food for the table, and the younger sister ordered her own dish. I delivered their food and made sure they were okay. I went into the kitchen for some sour cream (for another table), and when I returned, it had appeared that something what happening. Tables in my section and tables in sections around me were focusing on the father from my table who appeared to be stumbling a bit as he got up from his table. He was walking down an isle of tables, toward the server station, which was where I was standing, having just come from the kitchen. He was headed in my direction with his son following closely behind. I was observing the fact that all eyes were on him, but I had no idea, really, about what was going on. In that split second, I turned back to look at the father--he was looking right at me, and at that moment, started to collapse. His son was not very fast-acting, and the father was headed for a smack on the hard-wood floor, so I stepped forward to stop/slow his fall--completely forgetting about the sour cream in my hands: it went down with him. As he fell, his eyes rolled back in his head, but by the time he was on the floor, he was trying to talk, so he did not lose consciousness. A woman from one of my tables was a nurse, and she immediately stepped in. Others were stepping in too. All five of my tables were involved, and one table from another section. The old man from my small-top was elevating the man's feet, there was the nurse, of course; another table of women had to stand because of all the bodies surrounding their table, and the family of four (mom, dad, older sister, little brother) helped by calling 9-1-1 and little brother timed the ambulance on his dad's phone. What a good Samaritan. I was totally freaked out, and totally overwhelmed. There were people asking for all kinds of things. Meanwhile, the father was trying to get up, the son was acting weirdly aloof, and the sister and mother were still sitting at the table. When the sister and mother finally got up to see what the fuck was going on, the sister was actually laughing. I had to walk away. I could not be around there. There was nothing I could do--I already softened the guy's fall. Quickly, the ambulance arrived and took the man out on a stretcher. I don't know if he was having a heart attack, that's what some were saying, but based on the behavior of the family, I'm wondering if he was shitfaced. It's just a thought. My other thought is that maybe he's on some kind of medicine that doesn't like being mixed with tequila. Maybe he's one of those people who think that the warning labels don't apply to them. Who knows? All I know is that he only had less than half a margarita on my watch. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell if he was slurring when he arrived because of his accent. He hardly spoke English enough to order a drink! I'm not worried about being liable, but with those ABC classes, you have to think about that kind of stuff! Totally freaky! The rest of the night is kinda blurry because of that whole thing. They hadn't taken one bite of their food. Of course we comped it, but still. Totally weird.
That was my much-needed post from last night, and I have a much-needed post from today at the office, but that will have to wait until after my dinner date (so, possibly tomorrow sometime).
:)
Friday (today): Secretary / *Off*
So, funny thing...I worked last night, but decided not to blog because it was pretty late by the time it was all said and done. I figured I'd have time this afternoon, since I wasn't scheduled and didn't really feel like picking up a shift--so sue me (I can't pay you anyway.) Back to the "funny thing." I should have blogged. I totally should have blogged. Focusing on this task has shown me its importance.
Thursday Night: Server
The night started out just fine. I was in a great mood, and my section buddy was Daisy, my BFF! Great way to start the night. We weren't scheduled on until 5:30, but the restaurant had started to fill, so we told Big D (the MOD) that we were ready. They immediately came back and pretty much flat-sat our sections. No problem. Apparently it had been dead during lunch, so I welcomed the business. My section was two "small tops" (max 4 people) and two big-tops (max 6 people). Great. Except for the fact that we didn't have any "small tops" on the wait. I asked if I could split up one of my big tops (to make 2 smalls...), which I was permitted and, therefore, had a 5-table section. Even better. Now, I had 4 small-tops and one big. My first big-top was sat with a family of four, but I was okay with that (at least I had a table!). They were a family: father, mother, older brother, younger sister, and it appeared that the father spoke very little English, and the mother did not speak English at all. When I was taking their drink order, the father was verifying English terms with his son. The father was interested in ordering a margarita. He asked "flavor?" So, I sold him on a strawberry margarita "on ice." The older brother ordered food for the table, and the younger sister ordered her own dish. I delivered their food and made sure they were okay. I went into the kitchen for some sour cream (for another table), and when I returned, it had appeared that something what happening. Tables in my section and tables in sections around me were focusing on the father from my table who appeared to be stumbling a bit as he got up from his table. He was walking down an isle of tables, toward the server station, which was where I was standing, having just come from the kitchen. He was headed in my direction with his son following closely behind. I was observing the fact that all eyes were on him, but I had no idea, really, about what was going on. In that split second, I turned back to look at the father--he was looking right at me, and at that moment, started to collapse. His son was not very fast-acting, and the father was headed for a smack on the hard-wood floor, so I stepped forward to stop/slow his fall--completely forgetting about the sour cream in my hands: it went down with him. As he fell, his eyes rolled back in his head, but by the time he was on the floor, he was trying to talk, so he did not lose consciousness. A woman from one of my tables was a nurse, and she immediately stepped in. Others were stepping in too. All five of my tables were involved, and one table from another section. The old man from my small-top was elevating the man's feet, there was the nurse, of course; another table of women had to stand because of all the bodies surrounding their table, and the family of four (mom, dad, older sister, little brother) helped by calling 9-1-1 and little brother timed the ambulance on his dad's phone. What a good Samaritan. I was totally freaked out, and totally overwhelmed. There were people asking for all kinds of things. Meanwhile, the father was trying to get up, the son was acting weirdly aloof, and the sister and mother were still sitting at the table. When the sister and mother finally got up to see what the fuck was going on, the sister was actually laughing. I had to walk away. I could not be around there. There was nothing I could do--I already softened the guy's fall. Quickly, the ambulance arrived and took the man out on a stretcher. I don't know if he was having a heart attack, that's what some were saying, but based on the behavior of the family, I'm wondering if he was shitfaced. It's just a thought. My other thought is that maybe he's on some kind of medicine that doesn't like being mixed with tequila. Maybe he's one of those people who think that the warning labels don't apply to them. Who knows? All I know is that he only had less than half a margarita on my watch. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell if he was slurring when he arrived because of his accent. He hardly spoke English enough to order a drink! I'm not worried about being liable, but with those ABC classes, you have to think about that kind of stuff! Totally freaky! The rest of the night is kinda blurry because of that whole thing. They hadn't taken one bite of their food. Of course we comped it, but still. Totally weird.
That was my much-needed post from last night, and I have a much-needed post from today at the office, but that will have to wait until after my dinner date (so, possibly tomorrow sometime).
:)
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