Monday, November 9, 2009

Advice to customers: Get the hell out of the way.

One of my last tables tonight was four people who seemed nice and friendly enough--even though they wouldn't shut up for me to take their order. One of the guys had his legs stretched out into the aisle for everybody to trip over. When I brought their drinks, he had shifted so he was facing mostly forward, but still had his legs stretched out as far as he could get them. That meant, of course, that I had to stand farther from the table and stretch to set down their drinks.

Legman had ordered a drink that comes with a martini glass and the metal shaker. I set the martini glass down and reached back up on to the tray for the shaker so I could pour his first glass. While I was pouring it, he went and set his menu down--across the silverware and taking up as much spare as it could. There was nowhere at the edge of the table for me to set down the metal shaker, so I tried to very carefully stretch over his legs, and the first foot of occupied table, to set down the shaker--while still holding three drinks on a tray on my other hand.

Yeah. Didn't work. None of the four people tried to take the shaker I was obviously struggling with, and when I set it down it was uneven ... and thus the table became a lake of pomegranate booze. And when I tried to catch it, the drinks on the trays started wobble, and one totally fell over.

Legman's jeans got splattered in raspberry tea, but nobody else got splashed, luckily. Of course all the drinks had to be replaced, the menus that were doused in drink had to be thrown away, and basically it was a huge freaking mess. And it wouldn't have happened if my table hadn't been oblivious to how difficult they were making my job.

Luckily for me, they were cool people--I got my best tip of the night from them, actually. But too many times I've had similar situations where people got all offended. It's similar to when I'm walking by tables and somebody gestures widely and knocks food out of my hands. People just need to be a little more aware of their surroundings.

8 comments:

Steven Nicolle said...

That bugs me too with the foot out. I am tall so it makes me have to lean further over to pass the drink. I usually step on the guy's shoe. My back cannot take that crap.

supernovanator said...

Or how about when people watch you head towards them with a tray of food and don't move?

The Veteran Server said...

Cannot stand this. I find it impossible to believe that they don't realize what they are doing! I had some similar thoughts in ( http://howtobeabetterrestaurantcustomer.blogspot.com/2009/09/balancing-stuff-is-not-side-show-we-do.html ) my post "Balancing Stuff is Not a Side Show We Do to Entertain You". It is unbelievable how dense and inconsiderate they can be! Glad they tipped you well. God bless!

LW said...

I have tables that dot hat all the time. I'm happy they're comfortable in the restaurant, but it is still a public space with many people walking around.

brit said...

what a jerk! Dudes do that where I work too. Stretched out into the isles so they can crane their necks up at the various tvs. It's so rude!

purplegirl said...

Just goes to show people everywhere are inconsiderate!

megaphon said...

Once a guy was unexpectedly throwing his arm into the air, crashing his elbow into the bottom of my tray. Both of us got drenched in red wine. He looked at me and said:
"Wasn't me"!

Anonymous said...

Hahaha. This reminds me of a time when I was cocktailing on rooftop bar. There was this after work group who ordered all their drinks from the bar whoring one of my high tops. I asked them repeatedly to order from me, and of course, they all said, "Okay," but continued to send people up to the bar anyway. I chalked them up as douchebags.
And then Happy Hour reached it's standing room only peak, and they ordered a round of Patron shots from me.
Oh, and a round of waters.
As I weaved my way through the crowd, one of the douchebags flailed his arms around and knocked my tray right to the ground. The plastic cups of tequila and water gleefully bounced off the rooftop floor, causing a high splash all over one of the douche-ette's suede shoes and suede skirt.
They were HORRIFIED, and even more horrified that I was clearly trying to hold in my laughter. I brought them new shots "forgetting" the water, and the guy was like, "You're not going to buy us those shots?!?"
"I'm sorry. It was an accident. $62, please."
They paid up, and the guy went on and on about how he couldn't believe I didn't buy them the round. Look--they hadn't ordered ONE, SINGLE round from me beforehand. He went on and on about how I should pay for the douche-ette's suede shoes, and I just collected the bill and ignored them for the rest of the night. A table of my regulars came in, and was commenting on how snotty they were to me. The night was complete when Douche-ette fell flat on her ass towards the end of Happy Hour. My regulars did NOT try to hide their laughter. Douche-ette screamed, "It's NOT funny!!!" Which only made them laugh harder.

The party of douches left soon after.