Self-Loathing White Girl
The morning portion of my shift turned out to be rather relaxing, much to my delight. I sat in one of the comfy booths for almost two hours, rolling silverware and listening to my iPod before spending the next hour and a half cleaning up the restaurant and eating some spicy dish with my manager. When it came time to open the doors, I was feeling ready to take on the Sunday crowd.
That is, until our first table of the day. They showed up around fifteen minutes early and watched their three boys pound and pull on the doors, as well as press their greasy faces against the glass I had just finished cleaning, until I opened. When I went to unlock the doors, the oldest practically hit me in the head with the door as I was stooped to twist the lock, then shot a "thank you" at me that almost sounded exasperated and sarcastic--not something I expected out of a boy who looked about six, but okay. Their mother told me she needed a highchair, so I took them to one of our half-booth/half-tables in the back corner, usually a favorite of such families. However, as we reached the table, their father asked if they could have the booth a short distance away, and I replied that it was against the fire code to use a highchair at a booth because our aisles are so small. He muttered about how he thought that a highchair would be fine in the corner, and I apologized before handing them their menus and wishing them a good meal.
One of the next tables I sat was a family of three with a small girl. Because they only needed a booster seat, I took them to the booth the other family had requested and went back to the stand. A moment later, their server brought them a highchair for their daughter, completely discrediting me in the eyes of the irked father. The MOD came over to the stand around that time to see about something unrelated, and the father came over to him and started railing on where they'd been sat--right in front of me. The crowning moment of the exchange was when the man asserted that they had been discriminated against. Now, to put this in perspective for you, the family with the three boys was white; the family with the little girl was black. However, I sat both of them, so unless he was indicating that I somehow discriminated against them based on their rude, unruly, possibly-ADD children, I fail to understand what he was talking about. Maybe he thought that the other hostess, who is black, had seated the black family, but it was me... so I really didn't get it, and I still don't. The manager offered him another seat, but he didn't even want the booth badly enough to take it; he just wanted to bitch and moan about it.
Of course, because he was making such a big deal out of it, he also talked to the manager about it for a good five minutes at least at his table as well. He and his wife also made a point to shoot angry looks at me and Stephanie every time we walked near their table, which I resolutely ignored--mostly out of fear that I would start laughing. However, because they made such a big deal about it, the managers consulted one another and all the servers were asking me what happened, which made me nervous that I would be fired. I mean, do people even think about that when they just want to bitch over something that small? Do they realize that the hostess or server who is working her butt off to pay for college or rent or even for her kids' daily needs could lose that source of income over their petty complaints? People just don't think sometimes.
Luckily, I wasn't fired. The MOD came over and told me not to worry and to just to seat people wherever they wanted. Of course, then he asked me to sign a safety regulation form he had been passing around this morning, which made me think twice. You want me to sign a piece of paper saying I'll obey the safety code, then put babies in highchairs that could easily tip over in our narrow aisles? Hmm. We also had our quiz, which took me and Stephanie all morning to do together. (We prefer the term "teamwork" to "cheating.") I think I only blew the portion on garnishes for the new alcoholic drinks, but I doubt that'll earn me a retake. Besides... I'm just the hostess!
Oh, Swedish Fish... you will be the death of me.
That is, until our first table of the day. They showed up around fifteen minutes early and watched their three boys pound and pull on the doors, as well as press their greasy faces against the glass I had just finished cleaning, until I opened. When I went to unlock the doors, the oldest practically hit me in the head with the door as I was stooped to twist the lock, then shot a "thank you" at me that almost sounded exasperated and sarcastic--not something I expected out of a boy who looked about six, but okay. Their mother told me she needed a highchair, so I took them to one of our half-booth/half-tables in the back corner, usually a favorite of such families. However, as we reached the table, their father asked if they could have the booth a short distance away, and I replied that it was against the fire code to use a highchair at a booth because our aisles are so small. He muttered about how he thought that a highchair would be fine in the corner, and I apologized before handing them their menus and wishing them a good meal.
One of the next tables I sat was a family of three with a small girl. Because they only needed a booster seat, I took them to the booth the other family had requested and went back to the stand. A moment later, their server brought them a highchair for their daughter, completely discrediting me in the eyes of the irked father. The MOD came over to the stand around that time to see about something unrelated, and the father came over to him and started railing on where they'd been sat--right in front of me. The crowning moment of the exchange was when the man asserted that they had been discriminated against. Now, to put this in perspective for you, the family with the three boys was white; the family with the little girl was black. However, I sat both of them, so unless he was indicating that I somehow discriminated against them based on their rude, unruly, possibly-ADD children, I fail to understand what he was talking about. Maybe he thought that the other hostess, who is black, had seated the black family, but it was me... so I really didn't get it, and I still don't. The manager offered him another seat, but he didn't even want the booth badly enough to take it; he just wanted to bitch and moan about it.
Of course, because he was making such a big deal out of it, he also talked to the manager about it for a good five minutes at least at his table as well. He and his wife also made a point to shoot angry looks at me and Stephanie every time we walked near their table, which I resolutely ignored--mostly out of fear that I would start laughing. However, because they made such a big deal about it, the managers consulted one another and all the servers were asking me what happened, which made me nervous that I would be fired. I mean, do people even think about that when they just want to bitch over something that small? Do they realize that the hostess or server who is working her butt off to pay for college or rent or even for her kids' daily needs could lose that source of income over their petty complaints? People just don't think sometimes.
Luckily, I wasn't fired. The MOD came over and told me not to worry and to just to seat people wherever they wanted. Of course, then he asked me to sign a safety regulation form he had been passing around this morning, which made me think twice. You want me to sign a piece of paper saying I'll obey the safety code, then put babies in highchairs that could easily tip over in our narrow aisles? Hmm. We also had our quiz, which took me and Stephanie all morning to do together. (We prefer the term "teamwork" to "cheating.") I think I only blew the portion on garnishes for the new alcoholic drinks, but I doubt that'll earn me a retake. Besides... I'm just the hostess!
Oh, Swedish Fish... you will be the death of me.