Off the Border
Tonight was my last shift at work. I went in expecting a night in purple, and I walked out after a night in red (a coworker was desperate to switch, so I did). And...man. One particular table juuuuust got me.
It's the middle of dinner rush, the restaurant is packed, and I've already got a seven-top and two-top when the hostess comes and starts pushing tables together, informing me I'll have a nine-top as well. Ohhhhhhhhkay.
So this group of nine Indian people walks in and sits at the table. Normally I could care less about race, but I think these people were Hindu or something - either way, they kept insisting they couldn't eat pork. (Seriously, the lady who was ordering for the whole table would order a steak Big Bordurrito (read: burrito with beans and rice on the inside) and ask if it had pork in it. Um, no, it has steak.)
But the big thing about this rather labor-intensive table at a rather busy time of night that really got to me? Was when one of the ladies at the table, not ten minutes after the order was sent in, asked for the food to be sent out "very soon," which generally translates to "now would be good."
...I'm sorry, what? You have food for nine people! You really think it's going to be sent out that ridiculously quickly?
So I gritted my teeth, smiled like a dumbass, and told the lady I'd do everything I could. I then relayed the request to the expo (who prepares food to go out - he's the step between kitchen and dining room), who laughed his ass off and told me to - direct quote - "tell the table to go fuck themselves. There's no way they're getting their food that quickly."
...did I mention that I love our expo guys? They're awesome. :D
Table got their food without a hitch, enjoyed it, paid and left...and left me nine on nearly a hundred. This is after I've run my little ass off for them as well as two other tables, and it really wasn't as though we weren't busy that night. So yes, lousy freaking tippers.
But I have to admit I'm feeling a bit guilty about part of this. Remember how they "don't eat pork?" Well, I was talking about the table with one of my coworkers later on (because you know we talk smack in the kitchen, and I dare you to find a restaurant that doesn't) and I brought up the pork thing, and my coworker asked if they'd ordered refried beans. I said yes, because they had.
Our refried beans have pork fat in them. I've worked in this restaurant for three months and I had no idea.
So part of me feels incredibly guilty, though I have to admit the sting is lessened by the lousy tip and my belief that God won't smack you down for an honest mistake.
...But yes, last shift was tonight and I have until Wednesday to pull everything together and get ready to go. Wish me luck (and sanity)~
It's the middle of dinner rush, the restaurant is packed, and I've already got a seven-top and two-top when the hostess comes and starts pushing tables together, informing me I'll have a nine-top as well. Ohhhhhhhhkay.
So this group of nine Indian people walks in and sits at the table. Normally I could care less about race, but I think these people were Hindu or something - either way, they kept insisting they couldn't eat pork. (Seriously, the lady who was ordering for the whole table would order a steak Big Bordurrito (read: burrito with beans and rice on the inside) and ask if it had pork in it. Um, no, it has steak.)
But the big thing about this rather labor-intensive table at a rather busy time of night that really got to me? Was when one of the ladies at the table, not ten minutes after the order was sent in, asked for the food to be sent out "very soon," which generally translates to "now would be good."
...I'm sorry, what? You have food for nine people! You really think it's going to be sent out that ridiculously quickly?
So I gritted my teeth, smiled like a dumbass, and told the lady I'd do everything I could. I then relayed the request to the expo (who prepares food to go out - he's the step between kitchen and dining room), who laughed his ass off and told me to - direct quote - "tell the table to go fuck themselves. There's no way they're getting their food that quickly."
...did I mention that I love our expo guys? They're awesome. :D
Table got their food without a hitch, enjoyed it, paid and left...and left me nine on nearly a hundred. This is after I've run my little ass off for them as well as two other tables, and it really wasn't as though we weren't busy that night. So yes, lousy freaking tippers.
But I have to admit I'm feeling a bit guilty about part of this. Remember how they "don't eat pork?" Well, I was talking about the table with one of my coworkers later on (because you know we talk smack in the kitchen, and I dare you to find a restaurant that doesn't) and I brought up the pork thing, and my coworker asked if they'd ordered refried beans. I said yes, because they had.
Our refried beans have pork fat in them. I've worked in this restaurant for three months and I had no idea.
So part of me feels incredibly guilty, though I have to admit the sting is lessened by the lousy tip and my belief that God won't smack you down for an honest mistake.
...But yes, last shift was tonight and I have until Wednesday to pull everything together and get ready to go. Wish me luck (and sanity)~