My Life in Tartar Sauce
Top Ten reasons I'm glad I only have four more weeks at my cesspool of a workplace:
1. Sexual Harrassment. The "guests", the manager, the cooks, other servers. There is certainly some team service going on but I highly doubt it's in the restaurant. Well actually...
2. Old people and children. They both make huge messes, whine about everything, and spend no money.
3. The Silent Customer. I love guests who refuse to look you in the eye and respond to every normal question such as "Would you like coffee?" with a bewildered look. I'm not offering your babies crack cocaine, just doing my job.
4. Malt Vinegar. It smells like old people holding moth balls.
5. >10% tips. If you can't afford to tip me, don't bother eating out. I hate you people.
6. Dumb questions. "Can I have more rolls?" "Do the sodas have free refills?" "Where do the clams come from?" -- Hell no, that's an extra trip for me. Not if I can help it. And the freaking ocean, what does it matter?
7. This question gets it's own number: "Is this your real job?" No, it's my fake job. I'm a secret spy sent here to determine if the management is buying seafood from the Russians. Yes, it's my freaking real job.
8. Anyone who comes in and says "I'm allergic to seafood, what do you recommend?" I'd personally recommend dropping your sadistic friends and heading to another restaurant. Who the hell brings a person allergic to seafood to a seafood restuarant?
9. The Running Game. I specifically ask, "Does anyone else need anything?" for a reason. I don't just like talking to myself in front of crowded tables. Coming back from the sweltering kitchen with one water to be asked for another one will inevitably piss me off and stop me from ever coming back.
10. Smelling like fish. Seriously, I smell like it, my car smells like it, the better part of my room smells like it.
There it is. I've glossed over my loss of date night, my hours of work for $2.38 an hour, my slutty coworkers, the cook who yells, and the dishboy who stares at me, but that's about it. Seafood waitressing in all its glory.
1. Sexual Harrassment. The "guests", the manager, the cooks, other servers. There is certainly some team service going on but I highly doubt it's in the restaurant. Well actually...
2. Old people and children. They both make huge messes, whine about everything, and spend no money.
3. The Silent Customer. I love guests who refuse to look you in the eye and respond to every normal question such as "Would you like coffee?" with a bewildered look. I'm not offering your babies crack cocaine, just doing my job.
4. Malt Vinegar. It smells like old people holding moth balls.
5. >10% tips. If you can't afford to tip me, don't bother eating out. I hate you people.
6. Dumb questions. "Can I have more rolls?" "Do the sodas have free refills?" "Where do the clams come from?" -- Hell no, that's an extra trip for me. Not if I can help it. And the freaking ocean, what does it matter?
7. This question gets it's own number: "Is this your real job?" No, it's my fake job. I'm a secret spy sent here to determine if the management is buying seafood from the Russians. Yes, it's my freaking real job.
8. Anyone who comes in and says "I'm allergic to seafood, what do you recommend?" I'd personally recommend dropping your sadistic friends and heading to another restaurant. Who the hell brings a person allergic to seafood to a seafood restuarant?
9. The Running Game. I specifically ask, "Does anyone else need anything?" for a reason. I don't just like talking to myself in front of crowded tables. Coming back from the sweltering kitchen with one water to be asked for another one will inevitably piss me off and stop me from ever coming back.
10. Smelling like fish. Seriously, I smell like it, my car smells like it, the better part of my room smells like it.
There it is. I've glossed over my loss of date night, my hours of work for $2.38 an hour, my slutty coworkers, the cook who yells, and the dishboy who stares at me, but that's about it. Seafood waitressing in all its glory.