Adventures in Waitressing
So, it struck me that some of you might be curious what it's like working in a restaurant that's just opening up.
Believe me when I tell you it is a special kind of hell.
I had this one table...
The lady orders a virgin drink, which I don't know how to ring in and apparently none of the trainers or managers do either. We get that straightened out with the help of the bar trainer and I return to the table. They are, by now, convinced that I'm some kind of re-goddamn-tarded.
Then they proceed to argue over who has to place their order first while I stand there, thinking about my other table that is probably being seated as we speak and if this keeps up definitely won't be greeted within the strict 60 second time limit.
Finally, the gentleman orders and after I answer some questions for the lady, she places her order. Then the gentleman changes his ENTIRE ORDER. *eyes cross* At least he didn't wait until I'd already rung it in. That would, indeed, have been worse.
Over the course of their meal, the lady, who rather resembles a very venerable baboon, regales me with tales of her charity work and how she's always treating her coworkers to dinner. I smile and nod, as it seems the thing to do.
As they're leaving, the lady says "I'll probably call in orders for about a month before I come in again (referring to our to-go service). But when I come back, I want to see that your enthusiasm has lasted!
I'm thinkin'; Lady, first of all, this ain't enthusiasm, it's blind panic coated in a thin veneer of chipper. Second, I'll be lucky if the chipper- which is what I suspect you are thinking of- lasts this shift, let alone a month.
But I smile and nod and she leaves, happy in the knowledge that she's offered encouragement to one of the unwashed masses.
Augh.
Believe me when I tell you it is a special kind of hell.
I had this one table...
The lady orders a virgin drink, which I don't know how to ring in and apparently none of the trainers or managers do either. We get that straightened out with the help of the bar trainer and I return to the table. They are, by now, convinced that I'm some kind of re-goddamn-tarded.
Then they proceed to argue over who has to place their order first while I stand there, thinking about my other table that is probably being seated as we speak and if this keeps up definitely won't be greeted within the strict 60 second time limit.
Finally, the gentleman orders and after I answer some questions for the lady, she places her order. Then the gentleman changes his ENTIRE ORDER. *eyes cross* At least he didn't wait until I'd already rung it in. That would, indeed, have been worse.
Over the course of their meal, the lady, who rather resembles a very venerable baboon, regales me with tales of her charity work and how she's always treating her coworkers to dinner. I smile and nod, as it seems the thing to do.
As they're leaving, the lady says "I'll probably call in orders for about a month before I come in again (referring to our to-go service). But when I come back, I want to see that your enthusiasm has lasted!
I'm thinkin'; Lady, first of all, this ain't enthusiasm, it's blind panic coated in a thin veneer of chipper. Second, I'll be lucky if the chipper- which is what I suspect you are thinking of- lasts this shift, let alone a month.
But I smile and nod and she leaves, happy in the knowledge that she's offered encouragement to one of the unwashed masses.
Augh.