Back to Work, Absurd Customers and Sunday Funday

Sometimes time flies and sometimes it crawls. It's hard to believe that I only went back to Iowa for 6 days, two of those being travel days. Then, when I was back in LA, I had two more days off of work. So I went one solid week without waiting on a single damn table. It felt like I'd been gone for a month.


The first day back is always the hardest. Of course, I desperately need the money, but having had the time off made me incredibly lazy. But now Thanksgiving is approaching and with it, the holiday shopping season. The restaurant will be packed. It's hard to believe that I've been working at this place for a year now. Last year on Thanksgiving I was shadowing another server, so I didn't make any money and the entire holiday was ruined. Blech. I made sure to get it off this year. Epic cooking will ensue, just you wait.

I'm looking forward to the busy season because the money will be most appreciated. But last year I ended up working 6 shifts a week, doubles almost every day.   

I lost 15 lbs in a month and a half.  

And I was already pretty thin to start. By January last year, I was completely emaciated and weak and every shift wore me out. I felt sick all of the time. I honestly believed I had cancer or something. I'm not allowing that to happen this year. It took me several months to gain back five very necessary pounds. Clif bars are coming with me to every shift. 


The holiday season makes some people more joyous and generous, while others turn NASTY. Last year on Christmas Eve, a lady told me she was ready to kill herself or her family, she was so annoyed with them. They spent the entire dinner bickering and getting drunk. I thought someone was going to throw a punch. And then, because she asked me to hurry the kids' food, they ended up with RAW chicken fingers. The restaurant poisoned her children. It was bad. 

Yesterday, on Sunday Funday, I had to make 10 trips to box up all the leftover food this family had because they got unnecessary refills on all of their Family Style items. Then they had the audacity to ask if we could hold it for them while they went shopping. No. We can't. Sanitation laws forbid it. And while I'm in the middle of trying to clear this epic feast of theirs, one of the guys asks me if we have toothpicks. You haven't even had dessert yet, can this wait? "We have toothpicks, they are right up at the host stand!" I say brightly. Two minutes later after I box up MORE of their food, he asks if I had gotten him a toothpick yet. Is it really so damn important? Sure, I'll just run up to the very front of this gigantic restaurant and get toothpicks for you. Everyone else can wait for me to take care of their needs. I'll just leave these dirty plates in front of your family while I get you some toothpicks. OK. Great. 

So I did.

It begins.

Absurd Customer of the Week #5 (aka Dr. Pepper Bath)

Last night I gave a customer a Dr. Pepper bath. I haven't spilled a drink on a customer since I first started waiting tables in college. Luckily, the guy was shockingly nice about it. To make it worse, though, it was his birthday. 

That was all just the icing on the cake of what was a very long and irritating Saturday night. There's a reason I usually work lunch shifts on the weekends. I make just about as much money and deal with a lot less stress. Fewer people to get in the way and run into, fewer things being dropped and broken, and fewer things getting 86'd (that's restaurant talk for fucking out of it). Last night I broke a bunch of dishes, ruined a work shirt, got stiffed on a $90 check (I'm talking ZERO tip, for no reason), and finished my night up with this miserable party where I dumped a Dr. Pepper all over the birthday guy and soaked myself in the process.

I was supposed to get this party of 20 at 9:30 PM, but they didn't actually get sat until 10:00 PM and spent THIRTY MINUTES wandering in, milling about, and getting settled. I didn't even get their order in until 10:45 PM because 10 extra people showed up and we created a horrible fire hazard by dragging over an extra table. Keep in mind, we close at 11 PM on Saturday.

I hate you.

The group was totally cramped and never paid attention to anything I said, so I had to repeat things a million times. It was chaos. And for being a cheap group, they were SO NEEDY! We fill water glasses using pitchers, so we don't bring straws unless asked, but these bitches acted like it was the end of the fucking world if they didn't get a straw. They also gave me serious attitude about their place settings.

TOTAL BITCH: Um, like, I don't have a plate or a napkin or anything. Could I just, like, get a water. And like a straw, that's all I need.

ME: I'm so sorry. We were only expecting 20, so we only had it set for that many. I'll get right on that.

I had to get this prima donna a new water THREE TIMES because, NO, she didn't want ICE. NO, she wanted it ROOM TEMPERATURE. Since all of our drinking water is chilled, I had to mix in hot water for this big baby. Now, if she had been sweet about it, "Oh, I'm sorry, I have really sensitive teeth. Could you mix this with some hot water, please?" But no, she acted like I was an evil human being, trying to torture her just for the fucking hell of it.

Because we had random tables pushed together and because they were so cramped and because no one acted like I existed... I spilled Dr. Pepper all over the place. I had two on a tray while I tried to hand off a third to a guest across the table (they were up against a wall, so I had to reach). My "excuse me's" were ignored, so I tried to set it on the table. Unfortunately, I picked an uneven spot and the drink started to tip over. Like an idiot, I tried to grab it. I saved the drink on the table, but made it worse by knocking over the ones on my tray... all over the birthday boy. Again, he was incredibly sweet about it. My manager gave him his business card, promised to pay for dry cleaning if necessary, and we bought them a bunch of dessert for the whole table. FIFTY DOLLARS worth of dessert.

Can I just say how glad I am that they actually paid the gratuity? I was afraid they would totally refuse... which, considering that I spilled a bunch of drinks on the guest of honor, wouldn't have been out of line. I would have been pissed, but I would have understood. They would have had a legitimate reason. But they paid it. So, thank you. But you know what? You were late for your reservation, had 10 additional people show up, were extremely rude and demanding, and treated me like less than human.


OH, and you kept me at the restaurant past midnight and had me run FIFTEEN CREDIT CARDS with different totals. One was declined, so I had to go through additional rigmarole to fix the situation. So, yeah... you win ABSURD CUSTOMER(S) OF THE WEEK! Assholes. Except for the birthday boy. You were nice. I'm glad I didn't get any soda on your gorgeous wool coat.  

You deserve better friends.

My Life is NOT About Pasta...

So why is this happening to me?
It's 4:33 AM and I'm having trouble sleeping and you know what suddenly popped into my head?

VERY NICE LADY: I'm sorry, do you have any straws in your apron pocket?
ME: I'm sorry, I don't. But I can get one for you. 
VERY NICE LADY: Thanks so much!

I forgot her straw. And she never asked again. 

They tipped very well, so I can only assume that my senior moment did not affect their overall experience. But I still feel bad because they were so nice. But why does this happen??? It's extremely irritating. I'm trying to go to bed. I'm trying to accomplish other things with my life. Why must my nighttime thoughts be tortured by server related bullshit?

But do you really need a straw for your water? Some people get really offended that we don't automatically bring them to the table. Maybe I should just be like Steve Martin and be, um, proactive.

Real Life Waiter Nightmares

A couple weeks ago, my restaurant completely revamped the menu. Completely. Portions were changed, prices were changed, items were added, items were deleted, things were moved all over the place. We've been prepping for this for awhile, talking about changes in pre-shift meetings, but nothing could have prepared me for it.

The very first day of the menu change, I showed up to work for a 6 PM shift where I hit the ground running taking tables. Didn't get to see the new menu at all. I also didn't get to discover that we had gotten new specials as well until I was greeting my first table of the night.

I looked like an idiot.

TABLE: Could I get the salmon with mashed potatoes instead of the roasted potatoes?
ME: The salmon comes with potatoes? Um... SURE!
TABLE: Do you have any specials tonight?
ME: Yes. They're on that little menu to your left.
TABLE: Are they good?
ME: Usually! I really don't know what they are. I walked in five minutes before you did and they just changed them without warning. Sorry!

Obviously, I've adjusted to the changes now, but I still catch myself sometimes about to do my old schpiel (how would you spell that?) or ask someone if they want a half or full size (we got rid of that).

But once again...this was an element to my usual nightmares come true. You show up to work, and the entire menu has changed.

Server Nightmares

Have you ever heard of the play, "The Actor's Nightmare"? It's inspired by a typical nightmare that actors have where they're thrust upon a stage and can't remember their lines or don't even know what play they're doing.

I've never had that dream before.

However, I've had more than my fair share of waiter nightmares. Man...they are the WORST. I wake up in cold sweats, in a panic, and utterly exhausted. I don't know if this happens to people in other professions, but at least among my co-workers, it's pretty common.

My typical waiter nightmare usually involves the restaurant being in some bizarre location...in a mall or a 5 story building or a football field or a supermarket. And I have tables in locations that are impossibly far apart. Plus, I have a million tables and each of those tables has some kind of special request. And ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS... the computers are down.

A couple weeks ago, I had that nightmare become a reality. First, I started taking tables early (and didn't get to take a break) because it was really busy. Pretty soon, I had 3 tables on the patio and 4 inside and they were all pretty needy... and then... wait for it...

THE COMPUTERS CRASHED.

For a good solid 30 minutes, I had to hand run every drink and food order to the bar and kitchen. I had to hand write receipts and add up the totals and calculate tax. I had to get manual imprints of credit cards.

I came very, VERY close to murdering someone.

Luckily, my managers stepped in and were able to help at least a little bit and I explained to my guests what was going on so they would understand why I was sucking it up so bad. By the time the computers were back up and running, my tables outside had finished up and things were going much more smoothly. But it was still a very long, very busy night, and by the time it was all over with, I was ready to collapse.

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• Work-related dreams often represent unfinished business (thestar.com)

I read this article. I think it's bullshit. It starts off with a waiter nightmare, but you know what? All waiters have those. It's because our job kind of sucks. But I wouldn't trade it for being a desk jockey in a million years.