Offering Fresh Ground People
Each of these things happened at work last night...
Our policy is that we don’t put high chairs with a booth because it’s a fire hazard. I tell this to a guy with a small kid who wants to put a high chair at a booth, and after a little coaxation, I convince him to move to a different table, one with which we could add a highchair. Then, 2 minutes later, another guy demands to have a high chair at that same first booth. I tell him we cant. He says he comes in every week and gets a high chair at that booth. Knowing that any further argument is going to cause him to call for the manager and the manager is going to give him what he wants anyway, I relent and tell him he can put a high chair at the booth. So now, not only do I look like Johnny Wishy Washy Employee because I just told him he couldn't have what he wanted and then give the asshat what he wanted 3 seconds later, but now I’ve terribly pissed off the original guy that I was able to talk into moving to a different table, because he sees me BRING THE HIGHCHAIR OVER TO THE BOOTH HE WANTED.
An elderly woman and an even more elderly woman come in and ask for a table. I lead them to one of our small booths by the window. The younger (but still older than the pyramids) of the women leans over to the elder and asks with a worried voice “Is this going to be okay for you?” to which the older woman responds casually with a simple “Yeah, it’s fine.” Clearly the younger of the women didn’t want to sit there, but instead of taking ownership of her discomfort, she tries to instigate the same discomfort in the other woman, who was perfectly fine with the table. “Are you sure?” she responds with a furrowed brow and growing sense of irritation. “Um, yeah. It’s fine!” the older woman again responds. 20 seconds later the younger woman asks for a new table because, as she said, her older friend found the table I sat them at uncomfortable.
A woman walks in with three kids close to her. She says she’ll be a party of six. Using basic common sense, I ask how many children are in her party so I can ready the proper number of kids menus. “NO KIDS!” she says. “Really?” I respond. “NO KIDS.” she repeats, seemingly getting a little mad at me. So when her table is ready, I seat her and the kids with six adult menus. A minute later she comes up to the host stand an angrily says she needs kid’s menus.
I spend a few minutes in the back getting supplies for the host stand. When I come back to the front, a bewildered woman comes in and asks where we sat the rest of her party. Since I was in the back, I didn’t really know what incomplete parties had been recently sat and where, so I respond “Feel free to have a look around the restaurant. I’m not quite sure what parties have been sat in the last few minutes.” She points to the left, toward one half of the restaurant and goes “Over there?” to which I respond “Maim, I’m not sure. I haven’t been at the host stand recently. If your party has been sat, they might be anywhere, so please have a look around.” She gets mad and storms off.
An impatient woman walks in and asks how long the wait is. Once I find out how many she has in her party, I respond “About 5 to 10 minutes.” “Five minutes? Ok, I can wait five minutes.” I choke back the urge to say “No you slut goddess, I said five to TEN minutes. I just said FIVE TO TEN minutes, you ingrate. It might be ten minutes because I said FIVE TO TEN MINUTES. If five minutes go by and you get mad because you haven’t been sat, I’m going to cut off your ears and use them as garnish for our split pea soup.” It takes some doing.
A guy walks in and requests to sit somewhere where he can see the TV. Nothing is available, but I move the seating rotation around, pre bus a table, and change my whole game plan of who I was going to sit and where so I could get him a table near the TV. When he sits down, he sits facing away from the TV.
I walk a pizza and a plate of tuscan hummus to a party of two. I say “Tuscan Hummus?” to see who had which food item. Neither person says anything for about 5 seconds. They just stare at me. Then, the man says “Yes.” So I put the Hummus down in front of him and the pizza in front of the woman, and as I walk off, I notice them switching the items, meaning the WOMAN had ordered the hummus and the man had ordered the pizza. I marvel at what would incite a man to say “yes” to a food item that isn’t his, or what would instill a woman with a complete need to refrain from saying “yes” to a food item that WAS hers.
There were also the usual terrible situations-
Customers not asking for a booth, letting me walk them all the fuck down across the restaurant to a table and then giving me that passive “Yeeeeeeeeeah I’m not going to sit here. I want a booth.” bullshit.
Customers constantly saying their names so fucking softly, as if they don’t understand that anything they choose to say to me will be the first time I’ve heard it. I don’t know your name, and odds are if you live in Los Angeles, it’s not going to be a simple “Bill” or “Nicole”, so fucking speak up. Make your vocal chords vibrate, JUST a little, that’s all I’m asking. We’ve got music playing, a television on, and 300 guests already here, so don’t talk to me like were in the fucking trenches of WWI trying not to give the enemy our position.
Customers walk in when the restaurant is completely full, but just because the lobby is clear, they give me that annoying “THERE’S A WAIT?!!!” when I put their name on the waitlist.
Moral of the story? People are god damned assholes who make life so much harder than it needs to be.
Our policy is that we don’t put high chairs with a booth because it’s a fire hazard. I tell this to a guy with a small kid who wants to put a high chair at a booth, and after a little coaxation, I convince him to move to a different table, one with which we could add a highchair. Then, 2 minutes later, another guy demands to have a high chair at that same first booth. I tell him we cant. He says he comes in every week and gets a high chair at that booth. Knowing that any further argument is going to cause him to call for the manager and the manager is going to give him what he wants anyway, I relent and tell him he can put a high chair at the booth. So now, not only do I look like Johnny Wishy Washy Employee because I just told him he couldn't have what he wanted and then give the asshat what he wanted 3 seconds later, but now I’ve terribly pissed off the original guy that I was able to talk into moving to a different table, because he sees me BRING THE HIGHCHAIR OVER TO THE BOOTH HE WANTED.
An elderly woman and an even more elderly woman come in and ask for a table. I lead them to one of our small booths by the window. The younger (but still older than the pyramids) of the women leans over to the elder and asks with a worried voice “Is this going to be okay for you?” to which the older woman responds casually with a simple “Yeah, it’s fine.” Clearly the younger of the women didn’t want to sit there, but instead of taking ownership of her discomfort, she tries to instigate the same discomfort in the other woman, who was perfectly fine with the table. “Are you sure?” she responds with a furrowed brow and growing sense of irritation. “Um, yeah. It’s fine!” the older woman again responds. 20 seconds later the younger woman asks for a new table because, as she said, her older friend found the table I sat them at uncomfortable.
A woman walks in with three kids close to her. She says she’ll be a party of six. Using basic common sense, I ask how many children are in her party so I can ready the proper number of kids menus. “NO KIDS!” she says. “Really?” I respond. “NO KIDS.” she repeats, seemingly getting a little mad at me. So when her table is ready, I seat her and the kids with six adult menus. A minute later she comes up to the host stand an angrily says she needs kid’s menus.
I spend a few minutes in the back getting supplies for the host stand. When I come back to the front, a bewildered woman comes in and asks where we sat the rest of her party. Since I was in the back, I didn’t really know what incomplete parties had been recently sat and where, so I respond “Feel free to have a look around the restaurant. I’m not quite sure what parties have been sat in the last few minutes.” She points to the left, toward one half of the restaurant and goes “Over there?” to which I respond “Maim, I’m not sure. I haven’t been at the host stand recently. If your party has been sat, they might be anywhere, so please have a look around.” She gets mad and storms off.
An impatient woman walks in and asks how long the wait is. Once I find out how many she has in her party, I respond “About 5 to 10 minutes.” “Five minutes? Ok, I can wait five minutes.” I choke back the urge to say “No you slut goddess, I said five to TEN minutes. I just said FIVE TO TEN minutes, you ingrate. It might be ten minutes because I said FIVE TO TEN MINUTES. If five minutes go by and you get mad because you haven’t been sat, I’m going to cut off your ears and use them as garnish for our split pea soup.” It takes some doing.
A guy walks in and requests to sit somewhere where he can see the TV. Nothing is available, but I move the seating rotation around, pre bus a table, and change my whole game plan of who I was going to sit and where so I could get him a table near the TV. When he sits down, he sits facing away from the TV.
I walk a pizza and a plate of tuscan hummus to a party of two. I say “Tuscan Hummus?” to see who had which food item. Neither person says anything for about 5 seconds. They just stare at me. Then, the man says “Yes.” So I put the Hummus down in front of him and the pizza in front of the woman, and as I walk off, I notice them switching the items, meaning the WOMAN had ordered the hummus and the man had ordered the pizza. I marvel at what would incite a man to say “yes” to a food item that isn’t his, or what would instill a woman with a complete need to refrain from saying “yes” to a food item that WAS hers.
There were also the usual terrible situations-
Customers not asking for a booth, letting me walk them all the fuck down across the restaurant to a table and then giving me that passive “Yeeeeeeeeeah I’m not going to sit here. I want a booth.” bullshit.
Customers constantly saying their names so fucking softly, as if they don’t understand that anything they choose to say to me will be the first time I’ve heard it. I don’t know your name, and odds are if you live in Los Angeles, it’s not going to be a simple “Bill” or “Nicole”, so fucking speak up. Make your vocal chords vibrate, JUST a little, that’s all I’m asking. We’ve got music playing, a television on, and 300 guests already here, so don’t talk to me like were in the fucking trenches of WWI trying not to give the enemy our position.
Customers walk in when the restaurant is completely full, but just because the lobby is clear, they give me that annoying “THERE’S A WAIT?!!!” when I put their name on the waitlist.
Moral of the story? People are god damned assholes who make life so much harder than it needs to be.