Sometimes a day goes by that you thought was going to go one way, then it ends up the complete opposite.
I was expecting yesterday to be extremely hectic, being the kick off Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. But it was surprisingly mellow. And practically everyone I waited on was really fun. They were in a good mood, happy to be in sunny San Diego (some having survived the 7 hour drive through LA the day before), restaurant hopping and snacking their way through the day. I actually had the time to get to know my clients because I wasn't running like a chicken with my head cut off around a full section of nine tables. I thought to myself, "If everyday could be like this, it would be the perfect job." I was able to provide stellar service, so I was continuously receiving 20% tips all day long. Even though it was slow, I still walked with a large wad of cash in my wallet.
And that's how it should be everyday. When the clients are in a playful mood, when all of the servers are smiling and cracking joking, when the kitchen staff is upbeat and the management is perky and willing to help in any way possible, it's makes for a truly remarkable day.
I have a feeling today is going to be much, much different. It is Sunday ... and so I'm expecting people from hell and a full section of high maintenance weirdos, who's timing is all off and who don't smile back at me at all.
But I'm hoping today will end up the exact opposite.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
They Do Tip Well When You Speak Their Language
I'm aware that I wrote a lot of smack in my last post "Euro Convention" about foreigners and their alleged clueless tipping habits. Therefore, it's only fair (and practically mandatory) that I mention the great satisfaction I experience when I speak their language, and in the end, tipped well for my ability to make an deeper connection.
I'll begin with the various French (and/or French Canadian) people who sat in my section. I would say in general, French people are known for being a tad snobbish. However, my experience recently has been au contraire. Immediately, when I realize my guests are speaking French, I always break the ice with, "Oh.. parlez-vous français?" Without hesitation, they'll look up instantly and smile. Of course sometimes a person will keep speaking French at which point I have to say, "Ok... That's all I can really say, apart from a few other words..." Then of course the conversation shifts to how I took French in high school because I took ballet growing up, or that I've traveled through France, along with other random French-related subjects. When it's time to drop the check, I always say, "Merci Beaucoup Monsieur (or Madame) _____," and I try to pronounce their name in my best French accent. Surprisingly, I do quite well with the pronunciation (for only taking a few years of high school French back in the 90's). Generally, after I've had some fun with my French clients, I receive 15%-20% tips from the majority of them; almost inconceivable from what others have to say about how the French tip.
Now, onto the Spanish speakers, with whom I can converse the best with among foreigners. I love waiting on Spanish speakers because I feel like I have a lot in common with them (for those new to my blog I used to co-own a business in South America for three years). If I hear my guests speaking Spanish, I'll start the same way as I do with my French tables, except of course, in Spanish. "¿Hablan español?" After I flash my confident smile, I continue speaking Spanish and dive right into my line of questions. "What country are you from? What city? Why are you in San Diego? Have you been here before?..." Sometimes I get carried away in these circumstances and forget I have six other tables I should be paying attention to. But it's hard to just cut the conversation short when it's going so well, because not only do I love to practice, but speaking Spanish it's something I'm proud of. I can't even think of how many times this has helped me not only gain respect in the Spanish speaking community, but it can also get a much more respectful tip. It's amazing how strong the common bond of language can be, and how many doors it can truly open.
Equally as fun as rubbing shoulders with the Spanish folk is observing how the white people at the tables next to me react when all of a sudden I bust out into fluent Spanish. I can feel them starting at me with my peripheral vision in awe like, "No way this girl is just breaking out her Spanish right now..." I will say, it feels good to leave that kind of an impression on people.
Bottom line, I've learned so much about human connections and how something as simple as a few words in a common language can change everything. Even a simple "Obrigada" to a group of lively Brazilians, or a "Skol!" to some friendly Norwegians can quickly bring a smile to their faces and perhaps completely change their mood. And above all, it'll completely change their perception of you. You can completely transform yourself from ... let's say ... the "All American Girl Waitress" to the "Well Taveled, Multi-lingual Entertainer Extraordinaire!" OK, that might be pushing it a bit.
But you get my point.
I'll begin with the various French (and/or French Canadian) people who sat in my section. I would say in general, French people are known for being a tad snobbish. However, my experience recently has been au contraire. Immediately, when I realize my guests are speaking French, I always break the ice with, "Oh.. parlez-vous français?" Without hesitation, they'll look up instantly and smile. Of course sometimes a person will keep speaking French at which point I have to say, "Ok... That's all I can really say, apart from a few other words..." Then of course the conversation shifts to how I took French in high school because I took ballet growing up, or that I've traveled through France, along with other random French-related subjects. When it's time to drop the check, I always say, "Merci Beaucoup Monsieur (or Madame) _____," and I try to pronounce their name in my best French accent. Surprisingly, I do quite well with the pronunciation (for only taking a few years of high school French back in the 90's). Generally, after I've had some fun with my French clients, I receive 15%-20% tips from the majority of them; almost inconceivable from what others have to say about how the French tip.
Now, onto the Spanish speakers, with whom I can converse the best with among foreigners. I love waiting on Spanish speakers because I feel like I have a lot in common with them (for those new to my blog I used to co-own a business in South America for three years). If I hear my guests speaking Spanish, I'll start the same way as I do with my French tables, except of course, in Spanish. "¿Hablan español?" After I flash my confident smile, I continue speaking Spanish and dive right into my line of questions. "What country are you from? What city? Why are you in San Diego? Have you been here before?..." Sometimes I get carried away in these circumstances and forget I have six other tables I should be paying attention to. But it's hard to just cut the conversation short when it's going so well, because not only do I love to practice, but speaking Spanish it's something I'm proud of. I can't even think of how many times this has helped me not only gain respect in the Spanish speaking community, but it can also get a much more respectful tip. It's amazing how strong the common bond of language can be, and how many doors it can truly open.
Equally as fun as rubbing shoulders with the Spanish folk is observing how the white people at the tables next to me react when all of a sudden I bust out into fluent Spanish. I can feel them starting at me with my peripheral vision in awe like, "No way this girl is just breaking out her Spanish right now..." I will say, it feels good to leave that kind of an impression on people.
Bottom line, I've learned so much about human connections and how something as simple as a few words in a common language can change everything. Even a simple "Obrigada" to a group of lively Brazilians, or a "Skol!" to some friendly Norwegians can quickly bring a smile to their faces and perhaps completely change their mood. And above all, it'll completely change their perception of you. You can completely transform yourself from ... let's say ... the "All American Girl Waitress" to the "Well Taveled, Multi-lingual Entertainer Extraordinaire!" OK, that might be pushing it a bit.
But you get my point.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Euro Convention
The European invasion of Spring 2012 officially hit San Diego. There was a Digestive Diseases Convention at the San Diego Convention Center and apparently there are a ton of European doctors in this field. An intriguing array of conversations flowed at the dining tables from chronic diarrhea issues to discussing the differences between digesting glucose versus sucrose, all trying to understand each other in their common language of broken English. Over the past few days I've had guests from England, Scotland, Germany, Italy, Spain, The Netherlands and France. There were also non-European countries represented including Japan, Argentina and Brazil. So I guess I should say it was more like a World Convention...nonetheless, as appealing as it sounds, it pretty much sucked.
I've lived in South America and I've traveled through Europe so I am fully aware that tipping in each country and culture varies greatly. Although, I feel when people travel to new places, they tend to be mindful of certain customs... like tipping for example. No matter where you travel, tourists usually end up tipping someone for their services. Whether it be a taxi driver, a bellman, a tour guide, or a server at a restaurant... ok, you see where I'm going with this. I know when I travel, I ask someone what the standard is for tipping at a restaurant. You don't have to ask your server. Ask your hotel clerk who checked you in. Ask a taxi driver. Ask the flight attendant who's serving you your ice cold beverage on your way to your destination country. Ask someone. Isn't that what most people do? If not, that's most certainly what should happen. Common traveler courtesy.
But not everyone is so courteous. Over the past few days, I've been working much harder (along with all of the other servers I work with) at every table with Euros and foreign diners. Between the countless bottles of San Pelegrino, the numerous glasses of wine and the ever predictable espressos to finish their meals (not to mention the language barrier at most tables), the amount of extra effort that goes into waiting on these people is tremendous - and for much, much less than money than what we're used to. Honestly, the Euros do know how to dine out ... they live it up. They know how to have a good time. But when it comes to tipping, they're absolute rubbish.
There was a server who got tipped in coins on a $120 check - including European coins - which will do here a lot of good here in the States. Another server had a table of four Euros who didn't even sign the bill for a $220 dollar tab, in which the server made his server assistant run after the guy to "remind him" the gratuity wasn't included and to sign his credit card slip. Only then did he take out a $20 from his wallet and hand it to him. There were plenty of tables in which a $5 dollar bill became the standard on a check of $100 or more. There were also countless foreigners that simply stiffed us as well. Nothing. Nada. By the end of the convention, my mentality shifted and I was actually thankful to receive ten percent gratuities. Hell it was better than nothing.
I think everyone in the world knows to tip wait staff. Whether it's 5%, 10% or 15%, the general population knows tipping something is greatly appreciated. And on top of that, I feel like it's common knowledge that in the US, people tip fairly higher than normal. So what gives? Are people just being "excusably" cheap? Are people simply trying to get away with it because they "can?" "I'm foreign! I didn't know any better!" And to that I say YEAH RIGHT. We know you know. Which reminds me of that famous line in the movie Waiting, when the high strung server freaks out after hardly getting any tip after a high maintenance foreign table and says, "They act like they don't know. But, oh THEY KNOW!!!"
Tous Chez.
I've lived in South America and I've traveled through Europe so I am fully aware that tipping in each country and culture varies greatly. Although, I feel when people travel to new places, they tend to be mindful of certain customs... like tipping for example. No matter where you travel, tourists usually end up tipping someone for their services. Whether it be a taxi driver, a bellman, a tour guide, or a server at a restaurant... ok, you see where I'm going with this. I know when I travel, I ask someone what the standard is for tipping at a restaurant. You don't have to ask your server. Ask your hotel clerk who checked you in. Ask a taxi driver. Ask the flight attendant who's serving you your ice cold beverage on your way to your destination country. Ask someone. Isn't that what most people do? If not, that's most certainly what should happen. Common traveler courtesy.
But not everyone is so courteous. Over the past few days, I've been working much harder (along with all of the other servers I work with) at every table with Euros and foreign diners. Between the countless bottles of San Pelegrino, the numerous glasses of wine and the ever predictable espressos to finish their meals (not to mention the language barrier at most tables), the amount of extra effort that goes into waiting on these people is tremendous - and for much, much less than money than what we're used to. Honestly, the Euros do know how to dine out ... they live it up. They know how to have a good time. But when it comes to tipping, they're absolute rubbish.
There was a server who got tipped in coins on a $120 check - including European coins - which will do here a lot of good here in the States. Another server had a table of four Euros who didn't even sign the bill for a $220 dollar tab, in which the server made his server assistant run after the guy to "remind him" the gratuity wasn't included and to sign his credit card slip. Only then did he take out a $20 from his wallet and hand it to him. There were plenty of tables in which a $5 dollar bill became the standard on a check of $100 or more. There were also countless foreigners that simply stiffed us as well. Nothing. Nada. By the end of the convention, my mentality shifted and I was actually thankful to receive ten percent gratuities. Hell it was better than nothing.
I think everyone in the world knows to tip wait staff. Whether it's 5%, 10% or 15%, the general population knows tipping something is greatly appreciated. And on top of that, I feel like it's common knowledge that in the US, people tip fairly higher than normal. So what gives? Are people just being "excusably" cheap? Are people simply trying to get away with it because they "can?" "I'm foreign! I didn't know any better!" And to that I say YEAH RIGHT. We know you know. Which reminds me of that famous line in the movie Waiting, when the high strung server freaks out after hardly getting any tip after a high maintenance foreign table and says, "They act like they don't know. But, oh THEY KNOW!!!"
Tous Chez.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
A Perfect Storm
I survived yet another awful Sunday. At the end of the day, I felt like a tornado had not only blown through the restaurant, but blown through by hair and head as well. In my seventh hour (of nine total), I thought, "What.. just.. happened... " As summer officially kicks off this Memorial Day weekend, I fear the next three months of Saturdays and Sundays are going to be as "tornadous" (pronounced tornado-us) as this past Sunday. Lord help me.
The stories would blow your mind too. The chaos just grew and grew, all day long, until I thought I was going to be sucked up into it and disappear forever.
Right out of the gates (when we opened), my first table was so absurd. It was a typical beautiful sunny San Diego morning, just before noon, and a gentleman asked for a heater. Really? It was literally 75 degrees out (and I was almost breaking a sweat) but he was in the shade of the umbrella, and apparently that made him cold. Of course I couldn't find my assistant to help me move the heater, so I had to do it myself. It was very awkward but I moved it. Of course, the gas was out. I quit. "Where's my assistant! I need him now. I'm not dealing with this," I thought. Not my first table. Ugh. I gave him hot water instead (keep in mind.. thirty steps to get the hot water.. then another thirty back down to return to the table...). Happy Sunday Funday to me...
Next up: Europeans. Lots of 'em. Great. I love hanging out with them, but I don't like waiting on them. Some are much more high maintenance than others (with plenty of liquor, wine and/or beer they continuously order.. and let's not forget the mighty espresso to top it off at the end to even it all out!). It wouldn't be so bad but they are notoriously low tippers, especially for all of the extra work we do (there's a lot more where that came from but I'll leave that for another day...).
The VIP was back. This time with six others. He actually requested another server thank GOD. I just kept ignoring him the whole time he was there. Thankfully I was literally too busy to even fake smile at him (of course when he was getting ready to pay, he called me over and asked me why I didn't say hello). Eww.
I can't forget to mention the "preposterous lady" who kept yelling, "This is preposterous THIS and this is preposterous THAT....!" She wouldn't stop with her preposterous comments. And that happened at 4:45pm with 45 minutes left in my sixth hour of waiting tables, hoping to not take any more tables at that moment. She was beyond upset that she couldn't get any lunch items when someone else in the hotel told her she could. Now, am I honestly going to have to serve the lunch menu and wait on an angry party of six 1 and 1/2 hours after lunch service is over and only 45 minutes left before dinner begins? Ding ding ding! You guest it! YES I DID. Sadly (for us) in the hospitality industry, if you make a big enough fuss, you're most likely going to get what you want. (Belive me there is a lot more to write about my experience with these people, but I'll come back to it another day...)
From the people making up their own menu items all day, to the self-seaters (every Sunday without fail), to the loud drunk people, to the snobby folk with their snobby kids, to the old people who made strange noises at the tables and who never smiled back at me, to the people who didn't speak a lick of English, to the people who were too cold and kept demanding extra hot water on a day full of sunshine, to my preposterous lady, my day was filled with this unimaginable storm of strange situations. I guess that's why we all love this job, but also why we hate this job.
Although, my "tornadous" day (I'd like to add that word to the dictionary please if I could) would have only felt like a F3 if it wasn't for all of the other issues simultaneously happening making my Sunday a full blown category F5:
a.) Bad timing
b.) Lack of internal organization
c.) Imperfect equipment (e.g., outdated computer systems, one working espresso machine fifty feet from my working station, etc...)
If I had my "preposterous lady" in the middle of a normal shift, when everything else was going fine, then it's truly not that big of a deal. It's merely a funny story. Lovely. But when that happens when I've needed a manager many times throughout the day and couldn't find one, when I've had to split checks all day using a old calculator in a drawer that I'm not close to at all times, when I've needed drinks from the bar and the bartender is nowhere to be found, when the sushi kitchen has ticket times of over 35 minutes, when I need a soy sauce container ASAP and there isn't one in any of it's usual spots, when the main kitchen puts bacon on a sandwich that wasn't supposed to be there... and this kind of thing happens for three, four, five and six hours in a row, to say it kinda gets to you after a while, is a gross understatement.
What's my point? I'm not sure anymore. This post has gone on way too long. But after reading it again, I've realized I should be blogging much more often because I do have a lot to write about.
And that's a good thing.
So, "Thank You, Sunday." Thanks for my perfect storm. Guess it had a purpose in my life after all.
The stories would blow your mind too. The chaos just grew and grew, all day long, until I thought I was going to be sucked up into it and disappear forever.
Right out of the gates (when we opened), my first table was so absurd. It was a typical beautiful sunny San Diego morning, just before noon, and a gentleman asked for a heater. Really? It was literally 75 degrees out (and I was almost breaking a sweat) but he was in the shade of the umbrella, and apparently that made him cold. Of course I couldn't find my assistant to help me move the heater, so I had to do it myself. It was very awkward but I moved it. Of course, the gas was out. I quit. "Where's my assistant! I need him now. I'm not dealing with this," I thought. Not my first table. Ugh. I gave him hot water instead (keep in mind.. thirty steps to get the hot water.. then another thirty back down to return to the table...). Happy Sunday Funday to me...
Next up: Europeans. Lots of 'em. Great. I love hanging out with them, but I don't like waiting on them. Some are much more high maintenance than others (with plenty of liquor, wine and/or beer they continuously order.. and let's not forget the mighty espresso to top it off at the end to even it all out!). It wouldn't be so bad but they are notoriously low tippers, especially for all of the extra work we do (there's a lot more where that came from but I'll leave that for another day...).
The VIP was back. This time with six others. He actually requested another server thank GOD. I just kept ignoring him the whole time he was there. Thankfully I was literally too busy to even fake smile at him (of course when he was getting ready to pay, he called me over and asked me why I didn't say hello). Eww.
I can't forget to mention the "preposterous lady" who kept yelling, "This is preposterous THIS and this is preposterous THAT....!" She wouldn't stop with her preposterous comments. And that happened at 4:45pm with 45 minutes left in my sixth hour of waiting tables, hoping to not take any more tables at that moment. She was beyond upset that she couldn't get any lunch items when someone else in the hotel told her she could. Now, am I honestly going to have to serve the lunch menu and wait on an angry party of six 1 and 1/2 hours after lunch service is over and only 45 minutes left before dinner begins? Ding ding ding! You guest it! YES I DID. Sadly (for us) in the hospitality industry, if you make a big enough fuss, you're most likely going to get what you want. (Belive me there is a lot more to write about my experience with these people, but I'll come back to it another day...)
From the people making up their own menu items all day, to the self-seaters (every Sunday without fail), to the loud drunk people, to the snobby folk with their snobby kids, to the old people who made strange noises at the tables and who never smiled back at me, to the people who didn't speak a lick of English, to the people who were too cold and kept demanding extra hot water on a day full of sunshine, to my preposterous lady, my day was filled with this unimaginable storm of strange situations. I guess that's why we all love this job, but also why we hate this job.
Although, my "tornadous" day (I'd like to add that word to the dictionary please if I could) would have only felt like a F3 if it wasn't for all of the other issues simultaneously happening making my Sunday a full blown category F5:
a.) Bad timing
b.) Lack of internal organization
c.) Imperfect equipment (e.g., outdated computer systems, one working espresso machine fifty feet from my working station, etc...)
If I had my "preposterous lady" in the middle of a normal shift, when everything else was going fine, then it's truly not that big of a deal. It's merely a funny story. Lovely. But when that happens when I've needed a manager many times throughout the day and couldn't find one, when I've had to split checks all day using a old calculator in a drawer that I'm not close to at all times, when I've needed drinks from the bar and the bartender is nowhere to be found, when the sushi kitchen has ticket times of over 35 minutes, when I need a soy sauce container ASAP and there isn't one in any of it's usual spots, when the main kitchen puts bacon on a sandwich that wasn't supposed to be there... and this kind of thing happens for three, four, five and six hours in a row, to say it kinda gets to you after a while, is a gross understatement.
What's my point? I'm not sure anymore. This post has gone on way too long. But after reading it again, I've realized I should be blogging much more often because I do have a lot to write about.
And that's a good thing.
So, "Thank You, Sunday." Thanks for my perfect storm. Guess it had a purpose in my life after all.
Friday, May 18, 2012
The Self Seaters
I had four sets of "self seaters" today, literally all within three minutes of each other. I could feel their
fiery eyes burning the back of my neck, helplessly and furiously
wondering why I hadn't greeted them yet. But what they don't realize is that because they are not following the correct order of how the restaurant seating
process works, it throws off the entire flow of the server's section; therefore, making service inevitably slower.
There were many groups of self seaters today. In the F & B industry this term refers to people who like to seat themselves wherever and whenever they want in the restaurant, with no regard to checking in with the greeter or host (or anyone for that matter) and sometimes with no regard to a whether the table is even clean. This is the worst case scenario because not only do we have to rush someone over to clean it (and apologize for the mess, which is ridiculous in itself because we never told them to sit there in the first place), we have to set the table and find them menus, all while they are sitting awkwardly and staring uncomfortably, seeking help. This process can sometimes take upwards of 5-10 minutes, depending on how long it takes us to see the new table and how long it takes a server to get there. Now on a busy day, this can take even longer. What is even more frustrating though, is when guests are irritated that no one has greeted them yet. I've had my moments when I've wanted to scream, "It's because YOU sat YOURSELF and no one said you were allowed to sit there! There's order and rules in restaurants just like society for a reason.. to prevent chaos! And YOU are a chaos instigator!" God I wish we could just saw whatever we wanted sometimes. Wouldn't that be liberating.
Interesting to note that self seaters also tend to be more high maintenance. So automatically, us servers just grunt to ourselves as we see it happening. Think about it. If a guest is already chooses to sit wherever they want, with no regard to the seating process, what else are they going to ask for? Probably something that's not even on the menu, a specialty cocktail of some kind, and of course, they're going to want it right away...
... Bleh ...
There were many groups of self seaters today. In the F & B industry this term refers to people who like to seat themselves wherever and whenever they want in the restaurant, with no regard to checking in with the greeter or host (or anyone for that matter) and sometimes with no regard to a whether the table is even clean. This is the worst case scenario because not only do we have to rush someone over to clean it (and apologize for the mess, which is ridiculous in itself because we never told them to sit there in the first place), we have to set the table and find them menus, all while they are sitting awkwardly and staring uncomfortably, seeking help. This process can sometimes take upwards of 5-10 minutes, depending on how long it takes us to see the new table and how long it takes a server to get there. Now on a busy day, this can take even longer. What is even more frustrating though, is when guests are irritated that no one has greeted them yet. I've had my moments when I've wanted to scream, "It's because YOU sat YOURSELF and no one said you were allowed to sit there! There's order and rules in restaurants just like society for a reason.. to prevent chaos! And YOU are a chaos instigator!" God I wish we could just saw whatever we wanted sometimes. Wouldn't that be liberating.
Interesting to note that self seaters also tend to be more high maintenance. So automatically, us servers just grunt to ourselves as we see it happening. Think about it. If a guest is already chooses to sit wherever they want, with no regard to the seating process, what else are they going to ask for? Probably something that's not even on the menu, a specialty cocktail of some kind, and of course, they're going to want it right away...
... Bleh ...
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Holidays... A Kick to the Chest
Sunday. Mother's Day. 4:00 AM. The alarm bells chime on my iPhone with a vengeance. I hit snooze immediately and dread the day to come. I drove into work in the pitch black darkness. The freeway was dead. I couldn't help but to think about how much I hated these early morning shifts. I thought back to a previous early morning holiday shift and thought, "I hope to God it's not as bad as it was on Christmas Day." I pulled into the parking structure at work. I felt like the parking garage attendant and I were the only ones awake in San Diego (aside from maybe a few fisherman). I parked, walked to the basement of the hotel's locker room, put my shirt on, my apron and name tag. I walked back upstairs and clocked in at 4:55 AM.
The dreaded holiday breakfast buffet day had arrived. Not only is it the 4:00 AM wake up time that's beyond ridiculous, it's also the fact that it's a holiday. This makes it much easier to have a pity party for myself. Yes, I can hear the world's tiniest violin playing in my head as I write this, but honestly, I can't think of any worse shifts than the painful early morning holiday shifts. It's hard enough to wake up at an arduous time, but to have to do it on a holiday just makes it that much more atrocious. All I can think about is how my entire family will be together (much later in the day of course), enjoying their day, laughing, eating and snapping photos, while I'm dealing with a bunch of grumpy and unappreciative people on vacation. Why is it that most of the diners on holidays tend to be more irritable? Shouldn't it be the opposite? Shouldn't they be happy it's a holiday and they've got time off to relax? It drives us crazy as hospitality industry staff when guests are rude and short with us during a holiday event. If guests only knew the hours we put into creating an event for them and the hard work it entailed, maybe they'd appreciate us more. In all honestly, most of the people on Mother's Day, weren't too bad. But it reminded me of working on Christmas Day last year.
Working last Christmas Day was one of the worst serving experiences of my life. It was mobbed with hungry and stressed out people. Most of them had to wait for their brunch tables (which would probably irritate me too). But out of the 75 people or so I served, only one table thanked me for working Christmas Day. One table! And this was the general viewpoint from all of the servers I worked with that day. People were impolite, curt and snappy with the entire staff. I realize Christmas (and the holidays as a whole) are a stressful time for everyone, but can't the general public put that aside for a few hours on Christmas morning, especially with the people who are serving you? The kick to the chest in all of this is that the guests generally don't even tip well on holidays. This is most likely because they've been spending all of their money on too many gifts and travel expenses, not to mention spending way too much time with each other. Either way, between the time it takes to set up the restaurant for a special event (sometimes weeks in preparation), waking up early, the stress of a busy restaurant, the mentally challenges that come from working on a holiday, all wrapped up in a pathetic tipping environment, it's just not worth it.
It's too bad the holidays can bring out the worst in people. I could go on and on with specific examples of the horrible displays of mankind on these treacherous days, but honestly, it makes me so frustrated and angry that I don't even want to spend any more energy on it. I have had a hard time writing this post because of that reason.
Okay, that tiny violin that was playing in the background can now begin to fade away... as I switch gears and think about the upcoming holiday season. I think I know what to ask Santa for Christmas ... the day off.
The dreaded holiday breakfast buffet day had arrived. Not only is it the 4:00 AM wake up time that's beyond ridiculous, it's also the fact that it's a holiday. This makes it much easier to have a pity party for myself. Yes, I can hear the world's tiniest violin playing in my head as I write this, but honestly, I can't think of any worse shifts than the painful early morning holiday shifts. It's hard enough to wake up at an arduous time, but to have to do it on a holiday just makes it that much more atrocious. All I can think about is how my entire family will be together (much later in the day of course), enjoying their day, laughing, eating and snapping photos, while I'm dealing with a bunch of grumpy and unappreciative people on vacation. Why is it that most of the diners on holidays tend to be more irritable? Shouldn't it be the opposite? Shouldn't they be happy it's a holiday and they've got time off to relax? It drives us crazy as hospitality industry staff when guests are rude and short with us during a holiday event. If guests only knew the hours we put into creating an event for them and the hard work it entailed, maybe they'd appreciate us more. In all honestly, most of the people on Mother's Day, weren't too bad. But it reminded me of working on Christmas Day last year.
Working last Christmas Day was one of the worst serving experiences of my life. It was mobbed with hungry and stressed out people. Most of them had to wait for their brunch tables (which would probably irritate me too). But out of the 75 people or so I served, only one table thanked me for working Christmas Day. One table! And this was the general viewpoint from all of the servers I worked with that day. People were impolite, curt and snappy with the entire staff. I realize Christmas (and the holidays as a whole) are a stressful time for everyone, but can't the general public put that aside for a few hours on Christmas morning, especially with the people who are serving you? The kick to the chest in all of this is that the guests generally don't even tip well on holidays. This is most likely because they've been spending all of their money on too many gifts and travel expenses, not to mention spending way too much time with each other. Either way, between the time it takes to set up the restaurant for a special event (sometimes weeks in preparation), waking up early, the stress of a busy restaurant, the mentally challenges that come from working on a holiday, all wrapped up in a pathetic tipping environment, it's just not worth it.
It's too bad the holidays can bring out the worst in people. I could go on and on with specific examples of the horrible displays of mankind on these treacherous days, but honestly, it makes me so frustrated and angry that I don't even want to spend any more energy on it. I have had a hard time writing this post because of that reason.
Okay, that tiny violin that was playing in the background can now begin to fade away... as I switch gears and think about the upcoming holiday season. I think I know what to ask Santa for Christmas ... the day off.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
A Mullet, Two Bushy White Eyebrows and Susie Q
Every now and again, there's that almost perfect day. The sun was shining, zero guests complaints (in fact guests were complimentary and cracking jokes all day long). I was in the ideal flow, dancing from table to table as if it were a performance on Broadway. I waited on a colorful array of personalities and styles including a Canadian lady with the one of the best mullets I'd seen in a while - a one-inch high buzz cut from her forehead to about two inches back, combined with a long braid starting at the nape of her neck to below her belt. Awesome. Then there was an an older gentleman with some of the thickest and longest white eyebrows I'd ever seen, sitting atop his eyes like hairy sun visors, bouncing around wildly as he talked. I'll be honest, it was hard not to stare at his out-of-control brows as I told him the specials. One of my last tables was a jolly lady from Texas. She told me right away her name was Susan Quinn, but to call her Susie Q. Then of course she proceeded to tell me that she "didn't think" the song was named after her, but she couldn't be sure! Ha! She kept clapping and saying "Yay!" everytime I brought her another glass of wine. I wish every guest would clap and get that excited over a new glass of wine. She enjoyed the Pinot Noir I recommended so much that she bought a bottle to take with her to her hotel room, and tipped me twenty percent, even on the bottle. What a perfect way to end my almost perfect day... "almost" because, after all, I did have to work today.
The Deal Hunters
Almost all of my tables bugged the crap out of me today. Maybe it was because I was back at work after two days off. Or maybe it was all the freaks that showed up for Happy Hour. Where do these Happy Hour crazies come from? It's like they appear from an alternate universe with synchronized watches telling them when and where all of the best happy hours are in town. They never come out during normal lunch or dinner hours. Full Price?!?! They can't even comprehend that style of dining. They hibernate during these times, gain strength and energy at home (or in their caves), aggressively researching and waiting until that perfect moment when they know they need to hit the road to arrive at the exact minute happy hour starts. They have it all planned out. "Ok. Happy Hour is two hours long. If we order four drinks each round along with two appetizers every 30 minutes, we can maximize our happy hour drinking and eating and walk out of here under $100."
I completely understand. It's a great deal. I go to happy hours too. It's the same delicious food and drink that I would normally get at a discounted price. Of course people like getting more for their money... especially in this economy. But it's the happy hour fanatics that bother me and that bother us servers in general. It's the people that double and triple check their drink order to make sure it's on happy hour. "That's on happy hour right? "I just want the happy hour priced one." "Whatever the happy hour price is, I want that." "As long as it's on happy hour I don't really care." Once you hear these repetitive questions over and over again, it truly starts driving you crazy. What's also annoying is that most people don't consider when dining during happy hour is that everything is essentially half off (more or less), which equates to the bill being half as much. This is what bothers us. We do the same amount of work and spend the same amount of energy for about half the tips... or much less, because let's face it... the happy hour fanatics sure ain't tippin' twenty percent!
Take, for example, a table I had today. It was two older ladies. When I first greeted their table , immediately one of them said, "We need separate checks." Great. Then promptly ordered off the Happy Hour menu.. of course. She ordered three out of the seven happy hour items (a lot of food, in my opinion). Of course she ordered a happy hour glass of wine too. Then her friend ordered a beer. She double checked that it was one of the beers on happy hour. "Yes, of course it is." I said with a perfect grin (acting my way through happy hour as usual). They got their food, ordered more drinks just before happy hour was over (perfect synchronized watches .. right on schedule). Then, of course, they sipped painfully slowly on their last drinks. After happy hour had come to a close, I brought them the bill (because lord knows they weren't ordering anything of the regular menu). A few minutes went by and I noticed one of the ladies was waving her arm in the air. "Oh no, what now," I thought. What's wrong. She asked me, "I thought you said these appetizers were half off?" I look at their check... did I ring it in correctly? Yes I did. She thought the prices on the happy hour menu were the regular prices and therefore the happy hour should have been half of those prices. Where do these people come from!! I responded gently, "Those are the happy hour prices ma'am." I walked away knowing I wasn't going to make jack off that table. And I was correct. They each gave me about ten percent off the happy hour prices. All of that for a measly six bucks, which during regular hours would have been closer to $24.
I completely understand. It's a great deal. I go to happy hours too. It's the same delicious food and drink that I would normally get at a discounted price. Of course people like getting more for their money... especially in this economy. But it's the happy hour fanatics that bother me and that bother us servers in general. It's the people that double and triple check their drink order to make sure it's on happy hour. "That's on happy hour right? "I just want the happy hour priced one." "Whatever the happy hour price is, I want that." "As long as it's on happy hour I don't really care." Once you hear these repetitive questions over and over again, it truly starts driving you crazy. What's also annoying is that most people don't consider when dining during happy hour is that everything is essentially half off (more or less), which equates to the bill being half as much. This is what bothers us. We do the same amount of work and spend the same amount of energy for about half the tips... or much less, because let's face it... the happy hour fanatics sure ain't tippin' twenty percent!
Take, for example, a table I had today. It was two older ladies. When I first greeted their table , immediately one of them said, "We need separate checks." Great. Then promptly ordered off the Happy Hour menu.. of course. She ordered three out of the seven happy hour items (a lot of food, in my opinion). Of course she ordered a happy hour glass of wine too. Then her friend ordered a beer. She double checked that it was one of the beers on happy hour. "Yes, of course it is." I said with a perfect grin (acting my way through happy hour as usual). They got their food, ordered more drinks just before happy hour was over (perfect synchronized watches .. right on schedule). Then, of course, they sipped painfully slowly on their last drinks. After happy hour had come to a close, I brought them the bill (because lord knows they weren't ordering anything of the regular menu). A few minutes went by and I noticed one of the ladies was waving her arm in the air. "Oh no, what now," I thought. What's wrong. She asked me, "I thought you said these appetizers were half off?" I look at their check... did I ring it in correctly? Yes I did. She thought the prices on the happy hour menu were the regular prices and therefore the happy hour should have been half of those prices. Where do these people come from!! I responded gently, "Those are the happy hour prices ma'am." I walked away knowing I wasn't going to make jack off that table. And I was correct. They each gave me about ten percent off the happy hour prices. All of that for a measly six bucks, which during regular hours would have been closer to $24.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
I'm Not Flirting. It's Business.
Great. The VIP I mentioned in my "Sunday Not-so-Fun Days" post is back; with his son and his daughter.. and a friend... and requested me. I know I'm nice and all ... but it's my job. Guess I was too nice the first time because he was back and wanted to sit in my section. I don't know why this time their table was much easier to deal with than last time. Maybe it was because I wasn't as busy today as the last time I waited on them, or maybe it was because I knew exactly what to expect.. probably the latter, or a little bit of both. Still, I was very annoyed with the continuous ordering, the specialty sushi rolls, the extra sauces at every moment they could possibly ask for some and the VIP constantly asking me to join him with a glass of Domaine Chandon, when it's obvious I can't do that. Not to mention they sat in my section for about two hours. To make matters worse, at the end of the meal the VIP invited me to have beers with him "just as friends." Hey buddy, I'm nice to you because I have to be, it's my job. When they were gone and the 23 sauce plates were cleared, I do have to be thankful for my generous tip. And I am. So thank you Mr. VIP, I do appreciate it. But I won't have a beer with you.
Like I said, it's business.
Like I said, it's business.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Cinco de Murphy
I have family in town and I was so excited they were going to visit me at work today. It was a fairly slow day today in the restaurant because of Cinco de Mayo. Every San Diegan celebrates the day by consuming disturbing amounts of margaritas, tacos and other Mexican favorites - but that was definitely not happening at my restaurant. I thought to myself, "Sweet. I'll have plenty of time to chat with them when they get here."
About five minutes before they walk in the door, the bartender goes on break. Our newest manager steps behind the bar. I love her to death but she's not a bartender. Bottom line. She makes everyone nervous when she gets behind the bar. Just about then, I swear, practically all of my tables start ordering drinks, and not just a daft beer or a vodka and soda, specialty drinks: martinis, mojitos, blended margaritas and chilled shots were being ordered like they were all going down on a plane. I go to the bar to get the first table's drinks. She has the blended drink made on the rocks, and the rocks drink blended. She has to remake both. She also made only two house specialty cocktails instead of three. The mojito looked like a sad concoction of a few mint leaves and soda water. Meanwhile, my aunt and uncle walk in the door. Yay! I'm so happy they made it in. But damn what timing! I want to hang out with them and relax but this was the most inopportune moment since we'd opened this morning. I had to "put out the fires" in the bar while juggling everything else that was going on. I thought, "I've been slow literally all day, and now they're here and I'm dealing with this? Ugh." What a nightmare. Little by little, I made it through that hump, fixing the cocktails, pouring beer and wine, checking in with my tables, but at a painful cost. I was able to chat with them here and there, but not as much as I'd hoped.
Of course about five minutes or so after they left, my tables started asking for their checks, paying and leaving. Why Murphy? Why do you do this to us humans? Why does your law work like science? It's almost always under the most important circumstances that if things can go wrong, they will. It's inevitable.
Alright, time to enjoy a cold Mexican beer and snack on some chips and salsa .. along with the rest of San Digeo. I'll be damned if Murphy is going to ruin my Cinco de Mayo.
*** (thank you K & S and I hope you had fun watching me in action!) ***
About five minutes before they walk in the door, the bartender goes on break. Our newest manager steps behind the bar. I love her to death but she's not a bartender. Bottom line. She makes everyone nervous when she gets behind the bar. Just about then, I swear, practically all of my tables start ordering drinks, and not just a daft beer or a vodka and soda, specialty drinks: martinis, mojitos, blended margaritas and chilled shots were being ordered like they were all going down on a plane. I go to the bar to get the first table's drinks. She has the blended drink made on the rocks, and the rocks drink blended. She has to remake both. She also made only two house specialty cocktails instead of three. The mojito looked like a sad concoction of a few mint leaves and soda water. Meanwhile, my aunt and uncle walk in the door. Yay! I'm so happy they made it in. But damn what timing! I want to hang out with them and relax but this was the most inopportune moment since we'd opened this morning. I had to "put out the fires" in the bar while juggling everything else that was going on. I thought, "I've been slow literally all day, and now they're here and I'm dealing with this? Ugh." What a nightmare. Little by little, I made it through that hump, fixing the cocktails, pouring beer and wine, checking in with my tables, but at a painful cost. I was able to chat with them here and there, but not as much as I'd hoped.
Of course about five minutes or so after they left, my tables started asking for their checks, paying and leaving. Why Murphy? Why do you do this to us humans? Why does your law work like science? It's almost always under the most important circumstances that if things can go wrong, they will. It's inevitable.
Alright, time to enjoy a cold Mexican beer and snack on some chips and salsa .. along with the rest of San Digeo. I'll be damned if Murphy is going to ruin my Cinco de Mayo.
*** (thank you K & S and I hope you had fun watching me in action!) ***
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Famous Encounter
I got lucky yesterday.
It was at the end of my day (and it was my Friday) and I just wanted to get out of there. I was wrapping up my last few tables and beginning my side work, when all of a sudden, I see the famous actor who's been rumored to be staying at the hotel. "Yes!" I think to myself. He came in on my shift! He sat in a high top bar table with a friend along the sliding glass doors. I was not his server, but somehow he got my name and called me over. He immediately introduced himself and as I went to shake his hand, he pulled it in close and kissed the top of it. Oh geese. That was unexpected. We said our hellos and I went about my job. A few minutes went by and he called me over again. This time to "ask me a question." His friend tells me they have a bet going and they want to see who who's going to win. His friend asks me if I have a boyfriend (seriously... how old are you?). I replied, "Yes" with a big grin. And the famous actor yelled, "I win! I knew someone as beautiful as you wouldn't be single." And then they proceeded to asked me where people "like me" hung out in downtown. I tried to keep my cool and be as professional as possible without playing into his flirtatious tongue. He probably made me blush a few times when he complimented my eyes and chatted over our love for Savingnon Blanc over Chardonnay because it has less sugar. All the while I was thinking "Damn.. I wish he sat in my section. I'd make bank off of this guy!" After the third or fourth time he called me over, he put his arm around me to give me a hug and said, "This is all I need in life. Hugs." I giggled like a pre-teen in her crush's arms, gave him my Colgate smile and told him it was nice to meet him. He told me he was staying at the hotel for two more days and that he'd be back. I told him it was my Friday and that I wouldn't be there. He acted highly disappointed (although acting is his profession). Eventually he slowly strolled out of the restaurant, arm in arm with his friend, and flashed that million dollar smile back at me. I sighed and took a deep breath. Did that just really happen?
I have a feeling another female server will get lucky tomorrow.
It was at the end of my day (and it was my Friday) and I just wanted to get out of there. I was wrapping up my last few tables and beginning my side work, when all of a sudden, I see the famous actor who's been rumored to be staying at the hotel. "Yes!" I think to myself. He came in on my shift! He sat in a high top bar table with a friend along the sliding glass doors. I was not his server, but somehow he got my name and called me over. He immediately introduced himself and as I went to shake his hand, he pulled it in close and kissed the top of it. Oh geese. That was unexpected. We said our hellos and I went about my job. A few minutes went by and he called me over again. This time to "ask me a question." His friend tells me they have a bet going and they want to see who who's going to win. His friend asks me if I have a boyfriend (seriously... how old are you?). I replied, "Yes" with a big grin. And the famous actor yelled, "I win! I knew someone as beautiful as you wouldn't be single." And then they proceeded to asked me where people "like me" hung out in downtown. I tried to keep my cool and be as professional as possible without playing into his flirtatious tongue. He probably made me blush a few times when he complimented my eyes and chatted over our love for Savingnon Blanc over Chardonnay because it has less sugar. All the while I was thinking "Damn.. I wish he sat in my section. I'd make bank off of this guy!" After the third or fourth time he called me over, he put his arm around me to give me a hug and said, "This is all I need in life. Hugs." I giggled like a pre-teen in her crush's arms, gave him my Colgate smile and told him it was nice to meet him. He told me he was staying at the hotel for two more days and that he'd be back. I told him it was my Friday and that I wouldn't be there. He acted highly disappointed (although acting is his profession). Eventually he slowly strolled out of the restaurant, arm in arm with his friend, and flashed that million dollar smile back at me. I sighed and took a deep breath. Did that just really happen?
I have a feeling another female server will get lucky tomorrow.
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