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.
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