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.

I Hate Sundays

Lots of assholes come in on Sundays. And screaming children and big families. Picky people. People who eat A LOT.

Why is this?


I don't know. But what I do know is that Sundays are often my least favorite and most frustrating day of the week. That's why we, at my restaurant, sarcastically refer to this blessed sacred day as "Sunday Funday." Blech, blech, blech.

We have "Family Style" where I work. In this set-up, it is literally all you can eat. People can get more food. However much they want. They start off with a TON of food, by the way. If they get a certain number of "refires," the computer will start asking for a manager's swipe card. This is to prevent employees from refiring food for themselves.

Today, I had to start asking for my manager's card after the first course. They ordered two additional rounds of appetizers and salads alone. I never imagined they would eat so much.

At least those people were nice and tipped very well. I didn't mind that so much.

But one of the last tables to get sat in my section was so irritating that I just gave it away to a PM person. I'm still mad about them so I don't feel much like typing it all out, but I'll give the highlights...

Is this enough butter for you?

• Eating all the bread and butter before I'm back with their drinks
• Asking for LOTS of extra sardines with their Caesar salad
• Demanding "Can we get that butter?" right after I put in their order. I never went farther than four feet from their table from the first time they asked.
• Sucking down all their beverages in five minutes. Over and over and over.
• Informing me that the kitchen better get, "Like, 40 gallons of caramel sauce ready for their dessert because I, like, drink it straight." I laughed and she said, "No. Seriously." 
• When I went to get them more marinara sauce ("like, two more bowls?") for their calamari, another server heard them ask, "where is that girl?" and look around for me. 

I gave them away at that point. I did not want to deal with it.

Sunday Funday!