Monday, March 9, 2015

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain

I've always been told that I expect too much from people, that I should lower my standards or else risk being constantly disappointed. The one reason I keep getting told this is because of my constant frustration with customers who come into restaurants. I understand if the cuisine is one you've never tried so you are confused or hesitant. I understand if the chef or menu uses words or language unfamiliar to you so you have to ask for help. What I don't understand nor do I tolerate well is people that don't seem to understand or have even the slightest grasp on how their own country and cultures food works. These same people don't appear to have ever eaten out in public before, or cooked food themselves. The entire concept of how food is prepared and for that matter how it works is completely baffling to these people. My favorite examples of this are when asked what kind of toast they'd like with their breakfast and the reply is regular. Regular toast. Another is eggs, when asked how one would like their eggs, the response over easy but not runny, is baffling. If these were things that just happened to me once or twice, I could laugh and shrug it off. I have heard these and other such gems an astonishing number of times, so much that it is second nature of me to explain how eggs are cooked, and ground beef temperatures. These are things that I feel like anyone over the age of 18 has no excuse for not knowing.
               The fact of the matter is that most people are astonished and blind sided by the goings on in a restaurant like it's their first time ever eating outside their home. Don't expect a complete stranger to know what you like and don't like, don't expect them to know your allergies. If you don't like tomatoes but can't be bothered to rad the description of the item you want, ask. Tell your server you hate tomatoes and if one so much as touches your plate of food, you'll send the whole thing back to be remade. We are not mind readers, I wish we were, our jobs would be infinitely easier, but in the absence of that skill, open your mouth and speak. You're allergic to nuts? So much that your throat will close up and you'll need to be rushed to the hospital? Speak up. How do I know this unless you tell me? Sometimes I have trouble remembering all my own allergies, let alone trying to read the minds of hundreds of strangers each day. Don't ask me what's good here? When we have a ten page menu and, again, are complete strangers. I don't know what you eat and don't eat, my favorite thing might be disgusting and appalling to you. You could very well be allergic to it, or a vegetarian. Please give me some sort of help in guiding you towards something you might enjoy. I'm not trying to sound like as much of an asshole as I'm probably coming off as, I'm just trying to give a little bit of insight into the requests and assumptions people make that make my job so much more difficult. A little insight will go a long way.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Hi, my name is diet coke with no ice.

One constant theme throughout these posts I'm sure you'll notice is going to be respect. One of my biggest pet peeves about working in the industry is the lack of respect. People assume we are all stupid, dropouts, burnouts, failures in some way. Now don't get me wrong, I often say myself that this isn't where we ended up because we made good choices. We're all here because somewhere along the way, we fucked up. I don't think there is any eight year old kids sitting at home dreaming about being a firefighter, an astronaut, and a less then minimum wage food slave. I don't remember hoping that when I grew up people would treat me like a third grade dropout. I used to be, and hopefully somewhere in there still am, a smart person. I did not finish college, and have no discernible skills, other than my ability to sweet talk people and sell almost anything. All of this aside. even if I was terrible at my job, had mediocre social and interpersonal skills, and could barely read, I still deserve respect.
                        When I say respect I mean giving me a chance to greet you and finish a sentence before you bark a drink order in my face like a dog. Don't make commands and issue orders like I'm your slave and then wonder why I don't bend over backwards to kiss your ass. A smile and a little kindness go a long way. In the same vein, if you can't even look up from your phone to order, or pay attention to the questions I ask you, you forfeit the right to complain about your food. If you could stop snap-chatting for two minutes to tell me how you would like your burger cooked, then you would get the food you wanted. When I ask the table if they need anything, condiments, refills, napkins, and you're too busy Instagraming your food, don't wave me down to ask for Tabasco. Unplug for the time it takes to answer a couple questions and then I won't have to go to jail for aggravated assault.
              One more note about respect and how just a little bit of basic human courtesy can make both our days a little more pleasant. The proper way to ask for a refill, condiment, napkin, side, or anything else you can think of, is to make eye contact and/ or a small wave. There is no need to flail your arms like you're trying to land planes, get up to find me, including following me to the bathroom. And before you ask, yes, I have had people ask for things in the bathroom. Other unnecessary methods of getting my attention include yelling my name, asking every person who passes your table leading to more mayonnaise then you could ever use, grabbing my arm, never ever touch your server. It's like the animals at the zoo. We're highly excitable, nervous and unpredictable creatures, if you want to keep all your fingers, look, don't touch. There is a point to all this. Just treat people with respect. All people, no matter who they are, what they do, where they are in life. People are people.

Monday, January 26, 2015

I have a PhD in smiling and nodding.

I will never cease to amaze me that seemingly normal, nice, intelligent people in everyday life become rude, demanding, idiots the second they walk through the doors to a restaurant. Every stress, every irritation from their day becomes your fault, they treat you with a disdain usually reserved for telemarketers who call during dinner. It doesn't matter how much you smile or how polite you are, you can do no right by them. These people come into restaurants looking for a fight. Their steak will never be cooked right, their food will always take too long, you will never be attentive enough. These are the tables you wish you could tell how you really feel about them. They can keep their five dollars, its not worth all the hoop jumping. You'll get someone else to wait on their table because obviously your mere presence is offensive to them. While you're at it, please stay at home and never go out in public again. Your parents clearly never taught you how to treat your fellow humans like... well, humans. Unfortunately, if we want to keep our jobs, and make our tips, we learn to grin and bear it. We smile a little bigger, kiss a little more ass, kill them with kindness. This is something I personally have had to learn to do in some of the toughest situations.
                 Having worked in a breakfast restaurant for the better part of my adult life, I have been fortunate enough to learn a very important lesson about human survival. Don't forget their toast. Like you, I also never realized the importance of warm bread. I still don't quite understand it's importance, but I do know that if you forget to bring it to the table, or bring it behind the other food, you might as well have dropped the food in their laps. I guess I'll start learning to balance bread baskets on my head. It will give me something to do during the long recovery period after the procedure to attach my third arm. I understand wanting what you ordered and wanting it to come out right, but let's try to maintain a little perspective here. I have very little tolerance for people who expect the impossible and then take it as a personal insult when you can't move mountains for them.

Who am I and why should you care?

I'm a waitress. If you're reading this, chances are you work in the service industry too. I've been in this business for 15 years, I've done it all. I've also seen almost everything, and dealt with every kind of crazy there is. This is my way of sharing stories, laughing, commiserating, and sometimes just flat out ranting about this job. This infuriating, ridiculous, complex, awesome job. I hope people read and relate and enjoy this blog, but if not, it's still a catharsis for me to write it all down. See you soon!