Fuck this day.
That's right. Fuck this day. It's a bad one, so fuck it.
I'm hoping that this day won't color my (un)fondness for my new job permanently, but for right now, I hate my fucking job.
Things went poorly, as you probably already guessed. I made mistakes. In fact, I sucked. Sucked balls, I sucked so bad. That was only in spots, but that's enough to make me not like how things went.
So: One of the waitresses didn't show up for work, so another server and I split up her section. Nobody told me about this for quite some little while, but I'd roughly figured out that the angry people with their menus on the side of the table belonged to me. So I took their order. Then it took forever to come out of the kitchen. FOREVER. So long that the manager was standing there tapping his toes waiting for it, so he could run it to the table with an apology right then and there. As it happens, he met them at the door as they were leaving. "Took too long," they told him.
So that's how it started, and there were other mistakes too along the way. Why? Am I, in fact, a shitty waiter? I didn't used to be, but maybe that's changed now. Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough? Bullshit. I ran my ass off, and did everything I could think to do to make everything go more smoothly. Maybe it's because I don't know what I'm doing, so I do the best I can with faulty know-how, and then have none of the tools or experience necessary to smooth over the rough bits. I don't know.
So half an hour later, I pocketed an order. Exactly the thing that my manager suspects me of doing with the table who walked out, even though I was innocent on that count. But this time, I took the order, and stuck it in my pocket and forgot about it. Then, when the guys are looking around with the "where's my food?" expression, I remembered. So I ordered, and I confessed. And I brought the food out, and it was wrong. Not the right food at all. So then I nearly fall down, I'm apologizing so hard.
Those guys left me a very generous tip. That saved my ass. If they'd been unforgiving and angry, I don't know what would have happened.
So, then, the end of the day comes. I've sold about $450 in food, and I've got a little less than $20 in my pocket. That's after the credit tips have been balanced and I've paid the house bank what I owe it. That $18 is mine, all mine. But if you're doing the math, you're realizing that this is not good money to have made on $450. In fact, it's ball-suckingly bad money. It's worse than if 1/2 of my tables had just stiffed me, which didn't happen. So what's the story then?
Here's my guess: That table that walked out had an open check. I don't know what happened to it, but I would assume the manager would comp it. But I think the manager closed it out as though it were cash. Know what that means? I bought those guys a lunch that they didn't even eat. Generous of me, huh?
If that's what happened, it's not only bad business, it's criminal. Which is why I can't even suggest that that's what might have happened.
"So, boss, you didn't by any chance deliberately steal $30 from me, didja?"
ihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjob
I'm hoping that this day won't color my (un)fondness for my new job permanently, but for right now, I hate my fucking job.
Things went poorly, as you probably already guessed. I made mistakes. In fact, I sucked. Sucked balls, I sucked so bad. That was only in spots, but that's enough to make me not like how things went.
So: One of the waitresses didn't show up for work, so another server and I split up her section. Nobody told me about this for quite some little while, but I'd roughly figured out that the angry people with their menus on the side of the table belonged to me. So I took their order. Then it took forever to come out of the kitchen. FOREVER. So long that the manager was standing there tapping his toes waiting for it, so he could run it to the table with an apology right then and there. As it happens, he met them at the door as they were leaving. "Took too long," they told him.
So that's how it started, and there were other mistakes too along the way. Why? Am I, in fact, a shitty waiter? I didn't used to be, but maybe that's changed now. Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough? Bullshit. I ran my ass off, and did everything I could think to do to make everything go more smoothly. Maybe it's because I don't know what I'm doing, so I do the best I can with faulty know-how, and then have none of the tools or experience necessary to smooth over the rough bits. I don't know.
So half an hour later, I pocketed an order. Exactly the thing that my manager suspects me of doing with the table who walked out, even though I was innocent on that count. But this time, I took the order, and stuck it in my pocket and forgot about it. Then, when the guys are looking around with the "where's my food?" expression, I remembered. So I ordered, and I confessed. And I brought the food out, and it was wrong. Not the right food at all. So then I nearly fall down, I'm apologizing so hard.
Those guys left me a very generous tip. That saved my ass. If they'd been unforgiving and angry, I don't know what would have happened.
So, then, the end of the day comes. I've sold about $450 in food, and I've got a little less than $20 in my pocket. That's after the credit tips have been balanced and I've paid the house bank what I owe it. That $18 is mine, all mine. But if you're doing the math, you're realizing that this is not good money to have made on $450. In fact, it's ball-suckingly bad money. It's worse than if 1/2 of my tables had just stiffed me, which didn't happen. So what's the story then?
Here's my guess: That table that walked out had an open check. I don't know what happened to it, but I would assume the manager would comp it. But I think the manager closed it out as though it were cash. Know what that means? I bought those guys a lunch that they didn't even eat. Generous of me, huh?
If that's what happened, it's not only bad business, it's criminal. Which is why I can't even suggest that that's what might have happened.
"So, boss, you didn't by any chance deliberately steal $30 from me, didja?"
ihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjobihatemyfuckingjob