A December to (somewhat) Remember

In the hotel restaurant industry, the holidays are a painfully slow season.  Aside from a few holiday parties here and there, our normal consistent clientele of vacationers, business travelers and convention attendees are virtually non–existent.   When we normally take home over a hundred of dollars a shift (and a lot of times much more), we are now taking home $30 if we’re lucky, and many times get sent home after an hour with no tables (and still have to pay $3 for parking). 

This is the time of year when working at a mall restaurant (or within close proximity to a major shopping zone) can really bring home the cash.  Masses of people swarm around these restaurants toting heaps of shopping bags looking stressed and famished, ready to punch the person next to them if their restaurant pagers don’t vibrate within the next minute.   As I envy this type of craziness at my restaurant during December, I know it all balances out.   Because when January arrives, most of the mall restaurants are dead; juxtaposed to convention hotel restaurants when corporate America is back in full swing.   Yet again, it will be our turn to annoy the public when we hand them a pagers at the host stand and force them to wait for a table.

The only saving graces this time of year for us are the few loyal, local diners.  Thank god for these saviors.  On these dreadfully slow December days, having a local VIP diner can truly make our day.  Last weekend, a couple of my regulars popped in on what would have otherwise been a pointless Sunday shift.  I’ve been waiting on these two wealthy hipsters for months now.  I was unaware they were approaching the door when the greeter saw them, called my name and nodded her head toward the door.  I looked out and immediately smiled.  I practically skipped over to them with two menus and said, “Welcome back.  Wherever you two want to sit, it’s all yours.”   It had been raining that day and the outside patio wasn’t set.  However, the rain had passed and it had become gorgeous.  Appropriately so, they wanted to sit outside.  I grabbed a rag, told my assistant to get two seat cushions and we made it happen.  We chit chatted a bit as usual, talking about going out the night before and the shenanigans we’d gotten into.  One of the guys joked around that the other one bailed on the $300 bar tab the previous night by saying he went to the bathroom then never came back.  We all had a good laugh.  They ordered; and aside from my obligatory serving duties, I left them alone.  They simply ordered two breakfasts, two sides of chicken sausage and one Arnold Palmer.  Their bill was $47.    I somewhat facetiously handed the bill to the guy who had apparently “bailed” on the tab the night before and said, “Guess you’re picking up breakfast.”  We all laughed and he agreed.  The savvy (and did I mention good looking?) regular left me $50 for a tip.  Wow.  Unexpected, generous and it completely made my day. 

Although I am using my credit card for practically every purchase right now, I’m learning to embrace these slow times.  There’s no stress on the job, I get to pamper and truly appreciate my regulars and I have much more free time in general.   

Because when January hits and we’re slammed and stressed out again like crazy, I’ll be wishing I was back in the December ease of standing around socializing with co-workers and being able to spend extra time with my VIP’s in a stress-free environment.  

Until January humanity.  ~ HK ~

Gracias por los Mexicanos

One of the many reasons I love working in the restaurant industry is you never know what kind of day you’re going to have because you never know who’s going to walk through your door.  One bad table can ruin a shift; similarly, one great table can completely turn your day around and leave you with a huge smile on your face.   

I had one of those tables last night.  It was one of my first tables of the evening.  They were three energetic couples from Mexico City.  Naturally, we hit it off because they were impressed that la guera (the blonde, white girl - me) spoke Spanish.  They ordered bottle after bottle of ZD Chardonnay, snacked on sushi and were extremely high maintenance.  They were friendly but needy and demanding.  Every time I walked by their table, they needed another sauce, another bottle of wine, water refills, plates cleared, additional specialty sauces, lemon juice, sliced jalapeño’s, lime wedges, etc.. it never ended.  This is not a condiment buffet people.  But as the wine kept flowing, and as their bill kept increasing (and as my fortunate luck would have it, they were a party of six so I could include an automatic gratuity), I realized how much money I was going to make off of them.  And their annoyances turned into dollar signs.  Another bottle?  My pleasure!

I reminded my server assistant of how high their check was up to and so he began to pay extra attention to them as well.  He’s Columbian, so of course the Spanish was flowing with him as well.  I’m sure they felt right at home.   By the end of the evening, and after 7 or 8 bottles of ZD, it was like we were all one big freakin’ blended family out there.    

They eventually started to play music from their cell phones and singing along to trendy American music.   They definitely wanted others to take notice.  Luckily the people at the table next to them were two younger women who didn’t seem to mind. 

Finally, after apparently the host decided to cut everyone off, he came up to me and handed me his black American Express card.  His bill, including the automatic tip, was over $800.  I reminded him the tip was included.  He immediately said, “I want to tip you extra.”  YES.  That’s exactly what I was hoping for.  Did my manger just hear him say that?   He tipped me an extra $100 (in addition to the $125 included). 

I will never be annoyed with a high maintenance table at the end of the day if I am compensated for it. 

After all, that is why we do what we do.

Viva Mexico!  

And viva good humanity.  ~ HK ~

Really Lady?

I waited on these two ladies.  We’d been chit chatting about the military, the Mid-West and San Diego.  They seemed nice. 

That all changed in an instant. 

I greeted a table next to them and told them about happy hour specials because it had just started.  As I walked by my two ladies, one of them piped up, “You didn’t tell us about happy hour!”  I explained to her that it literally just started (as they were finishing their lunch).  They had clearly been there for over a half an hour already.  The lady looked at her watch and gave me the most disgusted look on her face. As I walked away I could hear her whispering to her friend.  Really?

What was I supposed to do?  Greet them and say, “Hi welcome.  If you sit here and not order anything for another half and hour happy hour will begin! “  Ummm.. no.  There is not one server out there who would say that.  Clearly that’s not what I tell anyone either.  That's absurd.  I might mention it five minutes before happy hour – definitely not 20-30 minutes before.  And if they were so preoccupied with a “deal,” then they should have asked me.  I would have gladly told them when happy hour started. 

The kicker:  she wrote a big fat “0” on the tip line. 

To not tip me out of spite for not telling her about happy hour under these circumstances is beyond ridiculous. 

Serving these type of people is beyond frustrating to say the least.

Oh the humanity... ~ HK ~