Saturday, August 22, 2009

Bookends.

When I got to work tonight, I was just so terribly thrilled to see that I was on the fucking patio again. I resigned myself to a less than stellar night and busied myself running food and such.

My first table was a family ... a family with seven freaking children, ranging from 18 months to about 16 years old. The parents ordered full meals, as did the two oldest children; the rest of the kids ordered off the kid's menu. And they had coupons for five free kid's meals. And three free desserts. I was sure I wasn't getting crap.

Meanwhile, I had a four top that included a woman who used to work there. I had checked for new tables before filling the ice bin, and then ran some food. As I was carrying the food out I saw I had a new table, so I dropped the plates and went out. All seemed well; the older woman ordered her husband a beer, and he came back right as I was ringing in their drinks. But when I got back to the kitchen, I found out that the husband had gone inside and tracked down the manager. "GM, do we need to move inside? Apparently that's the only place you provided good service! We haven't seen a single waitress! Blahblahblah." So she bought their first round of drinks. Now, I know those people were not there that long. Stupid lying bastards.

The next table I got was a single guy who always looks drunk, slams down three beers, and is generally just creepy.

I had two other tables in my section; but one was occupied by a bunch of regular barflies who'd been there since 3:30. They didn't leave until 8:30. The other table got pulled twice to be put into a big top with a table from the neighboring section.

The family left me $13 on their originally $63 ticket; the drunk left me $2; and the people who complained were just as sweet as pie to me, and left me $15. So that ended up being a nice start after all. The rest of my tables were most unremarkable, until my very last one ... who complained about me. GM was walking by and asked them how things were, and they told her the food was good, but all the things they needed from me took a while and in their opinion "she needs a little help." I wanted to tell them to take their opinions and fuck themselves, because I have no idea what they were talking about. The woman's wine took a while, because the bartender broke the corkscrew, but I explained that and apologized. The only other thing they asked me for was A1. It was quite odd.

The best table of the night was a group of eight college boys. They had a ninth seat, but said they weren't sure if he was coming. "But we're not waiting for him," one tells me. "Fuck him!" I laughed and said I'd tell him they said that.

Immediately, they all start telling me to give him a hard time, saying they'd tip me extra if I got him really good. They were fun. Unfortunately, the ninth guy never showed up. As I was handing out their checks, I said, "I'm sad he didn't show up, I was going to ask him why his bikini wax took so long."

I got the extra tip anyway.

4 comments:

chef's kitchen rant said...

Bloody customers, I think they are all looking for some freebies and attention. What was the GM doing anyway? his secretary must have gone home early eh.

Steven Nicolle said...

I hate doing patios.

purplegirl said...

CKR, one of our ridiculous survey questions that corporate tracks is if a table was visited by a manager. Which can be great, sometimes; other times, like this, it just gives people an opportunity to pull bullshit complaints out their ass.

WE, me too! I don't know what it is about them that attracts finicky bitches 90% of the time. Although I will say that late at night it's sometimes nice to have a table out there--at least I can get a breath of cool air that's not tainted by dumpsters or coworker's smokes. :)

TarotGirl said...

I found your blog a few days ago and after hitting this post, I knew it all too well. Especially the "she needs a little help" people.

A few weeks ago, I had an older couple who were a little odd to begin with. I took their order and in the meantime, had four other tables (not a lot, but in the restaurant I work at, there's a lot of extras to attend to--mainly known to me as a pain in my ass). I saw they had gotten their soup and app when they start the flagging me down bullshit. "Did you not notice that we didn't have any service?" Um, what? I just saw you maybe 10 minutes ago. I looked at her confused and she motioned to her silverware. I apologized profusely, saying that I hadn't and she says, "You've been running around here, maybe you should slow down and ask for some help." And she didn't say it nicely. She was snide and bitchy and I wanted to slam my tray into her face.

I was livid, but I kept my cool and apologized again, saying it was a Saturday night and that I was busy and told her I would get her the manager.

GAH. Needless to say, they had a gift card and left me 20%...on the remaining amount. Their dinner originally cost $60 and they left me $6 on $30.

I hate people who tell me how to do my job after I've been doing it for three fucking years....and they look like they haven't lifted a finger in their lives.

Sorry for the rant, but I completely identified with this.