What I Really Meant to Say...

By now we all know that waitressing is all about creating a pleasant, cheerful, persona. One that doesn't get upset or frustrated. One that can handle anything thrown its way on a busy Friday night.

I have found the best way to keep that persona alive, is to play a little game I like to call "What I really Meant to Say". So the customer may never actually hear what I really meant to say, but believe me, the rest of the staff knows...

When serving the couple who can drink 7 glasses of diet soda during a one hour meal.
"Of course, I'll be right back with a refill."
What I Really Meant to Say...
"Are you kidding me??? I've made 6 trips to your table already, and I know that you are only going to leave a $4 tip. Maybe I should just hook up an IV!"

When serving the man who ordered a Medium Rib Eye and got a beautiful Medium Rib Eye that is making my mouth water.
"Oh I am so sorry sir. The kitchen seemed to have under cooked it a bit, I'll take it right back and have them put it on for a minute. Would you like a salad on the house while you wait?"
And When I return with a slightly more cooked Medium Well Rib Eye....
"It was only on for a minute, I cannot understand how they managed to overcook it in only 2 minutes."
What I really meant to say...
"Just order the damn chicken!"

When serving the family who let their kids throw popcorn all over the floor, dump out all of the sugar packets, and smear marinara sauce and hot fudge on the table, the seats, the windows, and the couple sitting next to them.
"Oh, don't worry about the mess, I can take care of it."
What I really meant to say...
"It's a busy Friday night. Not only is my table taken up when you eat, I now have to take 20 extra minutes just to clean up the mess that your little heathens have made. Thank you for that 12% tip. It's good to know that you appreciate my time."

When serving the couple that can't just order off the menu, and need 15 changes made to each item ordered.
"Oh, I can't believe that they forgot the walnuts on your sandwich! I'll be right back with some for you."
What I really meant to say...
"The 17 other things you ordered changed came out right. I know you didn't ask for walnuts, too. But I will get them because you won't eat the sandwich without them, and I need you to eat - fast - so you will leave."

It Ain't My Hair!

Umm - Yes, it most certainly is!!

I put the dressing on the salad! I carried it out to your table. I would have noticed a GIANT hair in the bowl of dressing.

AND - I do not have LONG BLACK HAIR!!

But, I'm not in a position to argue, so I'll apologize and take it off your check.

(AND can you believe that they had the nerve to walk out on their check?!?!?)

Ritalin, Anyone?

Tonight we will be offering an appetizer course of Ritalin for your table, on the house.

Your table has been chosen as the recipient of three doses of Ritalin.
We offer this special only to qualified families!

To qualify you must meet the following criteria:
*Loud Children who won't sit down in their seats
*Taking over 35 minutes to get the children to decide what to eat
*Excessive drink spills
*Popcorn flying over your table
*Children who are constantly up running in our isles
*Children who bump into waitresses as they are carrying trays
*Grabbing things off the tray as the waitress tries to set them down
*Saying very inappropriate things to the waitress

If you need more than 4 glasses of wine to deal with your children, something may be wrong...

Please Leave Your OCD Friends at Home...

Last Friday I waited on a party of 8. 7 of the 8 were wonderful, normal people. Unfortunately, they brought their severely OCD friend with them.

She started complaining about the seating arrangements at the table, and somehow it was the door servers fault. When I showed up for a drink order, she ordered tap water for everyone, even though only one other person actually wanted it. She also made sure I knew haw badly she wanted some free popcorn.

When I cam back with my tray loaded with drinks and two bowls of popcorn held precariously in my other hand, she looked at me in shock. "You are going to bring more popcorn, right???" I gave her a look, and said as sweetly as I could. "Of course, I just thought you'd want a drink first."

Taking the meal order was almost painful. 6 of the normal people ordered normal meals in a normal fashion, then I got to Freak.
"Well, what did Rosemary order?" I looked up at the table. Could anyone save me??? Who the hell is Rosemary???
"Is everyone getting a full meal?" WHO CARES?!? Is SHE paying?!?
"Alright, I'll just get the turkey dinner, with mashed potatoes, gravy on the side, extra cranberry, a little extra butter for the biscuit, the stuffing on a side plate, an extra plate in case anyone wants to share, and a box." Are you kidding?
Next, the poor elderly lady next to her tried to order. "How is the broccoli cooked?" Before I could even answer, I heard Freak speak up. "Hard as a rock. You should probably get something else. It will be way to hard for you to..."
I had to step in - I couldn't take it any longer. "We cook it however you like it."
"Oh, can you make mine a little softer?" Of course, Nice Lady.
When the meal finally arrived, I was busy making sure all of the plates were in order, so my coworkers delivered it. I went over to check on everything, and I heard 7 "Yes, it's wonderful"s.
Then Freak had to speak up. "I'm going to need more butter. You forgot my box, and I'll need 6 napkins."
"6 Napkins?" OK this was all I could take - I laughed in her face, and walked away. I counted out 5 napkins and returned to the table. I handed them to the Freak, and refused to return to her end of the table.
The rest of the table was awesome, so I only checked on them.
But seriously, if you are going to bring your OCD friends out to dinner, you will need to take care of them yourselves.

I HATE MY JOB!!

Ever have one of those nights??

Everything that could go wrong, did!

It started to snow, so the highway on the way to work was a parking lot. So the whole night started later than usual.

I was in station 9, THE WASTELAND, which is apparently too far away from the hostess podium for the door servers to find it. The few tables that I did get, I had to seat myself.

The tables the hostesses actually did seat me were nothing but teenagers. Did I piss someone off up there? The hostess actually had the nerve to laugh when she told me that one of the other waitress was giving her trouble for the tables she had sat me. Yeah - well, I'm so glad YOU think it is a joke.

Around 7:30, I finally stopped talking to people. There was nothing nice left to say, and all I wanted to do was walk out and never come back. Just leave my tables and sneak out the back door. Some day - on a night like last night, I will sneak out. I wonder how long it would take them to notice...

Party of 65

We close at 11:30 - Our liquor license runs out at Midnight -

11:15 PM - Party of 65 at the door.

How much fun was that?!?!?

There were only 4 of us still on, and we needed to end this as quickly as possible, so I had a party of 10, a party of 16, and two parties of 4. All teenagers.....

At least they were nice kids...
At least they did leave something for a tip.....
At least they didn't make too much of a mess....

Dear Table 67,

It was so wonderful to wait on you tonight!
I really enjoyed all of the exercise I got while running back and forth to get everyone a refill at a different time.
I was so excited that you found the extra napkins I gave you after I returned with another stack.
And don't worry about that chocolate milk spill on our brand new carpet! That's why we have a night cleaning crew!
I hope you enjoy the drink menu and salt and pepper shakers that were missing when you left. Don't worry, we keep plenty of these around, just in case the customers should need one for their homes!
And don't mention all those desserts I made you. I had so much fun at the dessert station making all SEVEN that I can barely write this without getting all giggly!

And best of all thank you so much for the thoughtful tip. The $9 on $95 will be well spent as my mortgage is almost due!

You Shoud Always offer Salads to People from Wilmington!!

umm - ok - FREAK.

So on Fridays I start my work day with a bouncing group of 4 year olds at 7 am. I work until 2, then go home for about 2 hours to play with my own kids. At 4, I head to my waitressing job. I'll be there until about midnight.

Makes for a long day. So when I was sat with a WEIRD single at 10:45, I was not impressed. He ordered well done meat and "the biggest sweet tea we have" (Ok - we're in the northeast - we don't have sweet tea!!).

Anyway - after this "very nice" man had finished eating his meal, I went back to check again. At this point, I removed his plate. As I asked if I could get anything else, he lit up and started to go off on a tantrum about wanting a salad. Why didn't I offer him a salad? Why don't I offer everyone a salad? People from Wilmington love salads!! I should offer everyone a salad!!!

OK - Did I mention it was now 11:20?? I had been working for almost 14 hours. Ummmm - I may have forgotten to mention the salads. But I know I asked about appetizers and soups. Am I supposed to read the menu to everyone who walks in at 10:45?

Anyway - after the salad - he went on to order coffee. Finally, midnight rolled around. Midnight is such a magic time because we get to ask the customers to leave. Our liquor license runs out, and we need the building empty.

Not wanting to deal with this myself, I sent the manager I really don't like over to kick him out. Then I snuck out the back door.....

When Life Gives You A Lemon...

Put it in gear and drive it through the dealership display window!!!!!

Did I say that? Did my usually nonchalant demeanor suddenly crack under the stress of not having my vehicle start for almost 2 months? Did that cheezy little waitress smile suddenly turn sinister as I called to hire a lawyer?

You bet it did!!

I can put up with a lot of crap, but paying thousands of dollars for a lawn ornament is not something I intend to take lightly.

I only feel sorry for the salesman that sold us the car. I can relate. He is the face that we see. He is the one who has to deal with me on an almost daily basis. I've been there - trying to calm and placate pissed off customers while the people behind the scenes continue to do whatever it is they are (or are not) doing. I do feel sorry for him, but not enough to stop fighting.

Tomorrow we will hear from the owner of the dealership. Hopefully I will not have to call the lawyer....or the Better Business Bureau...or the Attorney General...or my friend's cousin who just happens to write for the AP...or anyone else I can find that can make some noise.

The Constant Complainer

Some people just need to find something to complain about. Doesn't matter how wonderful the situation is, they will still manage to find something.

This case was true the other night when a party of 5 called ahead. We have 4-tops and 6-tops, and we usually put the parties of 5 in a 4-top with a chair at the end. Before we use the chair at the end, we ALWAYS ask if they mind.

The woman who called said they didn't mind, however when they showed up, the man was furious about it! He yelled at her, he yelled at the door server, and he yelled at the manager. Since my 6-top was the next to open up, they were quickly sat in my station. Yippie.

I've actually waited on them before, so I prepared myself for the worst. "Kill 'em with kindness", right?

So, I made sure that NOTHING went wrong with this table. Absolutely NOTHING. But, like I said before, some people need to complain about everything.

His only complaint about dinner? The vegetable dishes were too hot. ARE YOU KIDDING?

"Here, touch them! They'll probably burn your fingers."
OK - If they'll probably burn my fingers, I don't want to touch them, but...
"I'm actually the one who picked the up and put the on the plate. Maybe I just don't have any feeling left in my fingertips."

I thought his wife would choke on her food when I said that. She managed to hide a smile, and he stopped complaining.

She signed the credit card slip at the end. Thanks for the 25% tip!!

YOU NEED TOILET PAPER IN THE MEN'S ROOM!!

Ok - Some of our restaurant regulars are very *unique* people. I have been trying to avoid talking about this particular couple because the name that we have blessed them with is not exactly a nice one. They earned this name however, and we say it with all due respect. Mr. & Mrs. Shitter.

SOOO - Every Friday night they come in, sit in the table nearest the restroom, and order baked schrod - Lunch size, no matter what time they arrive. They will each eat alone because they take turns using the restroom, hence the names. On a usual night, they will each dissapear for 20-30 minutes at least 3 times.

Well, as you can imagine, the Men's room stall MIGHT run out of toilet peper. Poor Mr. was in desperate need when he came flying out of the restroom straight into the loudest waitress on the floor. He grabbed her arm, and yelled for everyone nearby to hear, "YOU NEED TOILET PAPER IN THE MEN'S ROOM RIGHT AWAY!!" She actually managed to keep a straight face as she RAN to the manager to get the needed toilet paper.

I am sure they are very sweet people, but I can't seem to get over the thought of WHY they are in our restaurant every Friday - and where do they go all those other nights?

Tonight we are Serving ...Jenny Craig?

Oh yeah - That's right! Tonight table 35 will be dining on Teriaki vegetables served over rice and prepared right in our very own MICROWAVE.

Seriously.

Apparently one of the other waitresses on my shift had a party of 4 women. All dining out for their once a week binge, all drinking wine faster than it could be delivered, and all taking advantage of the poor girl who had the misfortune to wait on them.

When the time came to order, 3 ordered meals, and the other handed the waitress a frozen Jenny Craig meal and asked her to heat it up and bring it out when the other meals were delivered to the table...

Are you kidding?!?

So what would you do? I thought about it, but the truth is, I probably would have done the very same thing that their polite, sweet waitress did. Take the meal and warm it up. She could have said "no" but without manager backing on this one, she certainly would have lost out on a tip.

No win situation... And since we are trying to get paid from every table... We tend to bend over backward to satisfy. "We can do anything" is a joke around my restaurant, because "the managers will make us do anything".

Love restaurant life.

Jenny Craig, anyone?

Not Just Another Friday Night

Well, tonight started like every other Friday night. Traffic was a little slow, so my husband was late. Nothing unusual there. Fridays in the summer are always slower because people are heading out of the city to the lakes up north.
My ride back toward the city wasn't too bad. I knew about a traffic back up on my usual route, so I took a secondary road and hit the highway a little further up. Again, not a problem.

I was just sitting in my car, listening to my tunes on the radio. Heard a couple of songs I could sing along to, so I cranked the volume. This is where things started to get a little crazy. Because the music was so loud, I didn't hear my phone ringing. And ringing. And ringing. 27 missed calls in all.

When I pulled into the restaurant parking lot and shut off the radio, I finally heard the call. My husband was frantic on the other end. Apparently our son had fallen and cut his head open. He was probably going to need to go to the ER.

I never even got out of the car. I just turned around in the parking lot and left. I called them as I left and tried to explain my situation as calmly as possible. (I probably didn't make a lot of sense.)

Sooooo - I spent most of the evening with my daughter while my husband and son sat in an ER waiting room. 12 stickers, a new teddy bear, and 3 stitches to his head later they finally arrived home around 11:30 PM.

The joys of living with a 3 year old.....

Grow Up

On one really, really bad night, I got the pleasure of waiting on a very immature group of teens. This is not even close to the first group of immature teens that I have had the pleasure of waiting on, but this group certainly stood out.

While waiting for their meals to arrive, they somehow managed to throw popcorn so far that they almost hit another table. I was almost impressed. When their meals arrived, they all seemed top settle down a little. They made it through the meal with only one spill. I was definitely impressed.

As I was starting to clean up after they were finished, they decided to order dessert. No problem, right? We offer a Chocolate Fudge Cake which is one of the most popular desserts available. (Chocolate cake, ice cream, hot fudge...Who could resist?!?)

Anyway...

"I'll take the Chocolate Fudge Packer Cake." Now, keep in mind, I had already had a very rough night. I was not in the right frame of mind to be taking any more crap from a 15 year old. One of his friends spoke my thoughts, "Grow Up."

With the most disgusted look I could muster, I left the table. I made the cake and brought it back. When I slammed it down in the middle of the table, the group ordered another one, only this time they ordered it correctly.

One of my managers had overheard the entire exchange. As the group was leaving, he caught the boy and pulled him aside. They had a little discussion, and I could see them head over toward me. Sure enough, my manager was making him apologize. The junior high teacher in me couldn't help feeling some compassion - and pointing out the lesson in this - Don't say things like that because you could seriously offend someone.

I'm pretty sure that kid grew up a little that night. I may never know, though, I think he's still a little too scared to show his face in our restaurant again.

How Would You Like It Cooked?

I ask this question 20-30 times a night.

People are usually very particular about the way that they like their meat cooked. If I am going to go out and pay really good money for a steak, I want it to be cooked the way I like it. (Medium rare - The thought of eating a well done steak just kills my appetite.)

But here's the catch. My idea of medium rare comes from the way that the cooks at my current restaurant prepare our steaks. Each restaurant has a different standard. The temperature names are still the same, the general appearance is still pretty close, but there can be a slight difference of opinion when the final product is brought out.

I once waited on a table of women who all wanted their steaks medium well. Not a problem, I placed the orders, brought drinks and appetizers, and got their table ready for the upcoming meals. Then I brought out the steaks. As always, I asked the customers to cut into their steaks to make sure that each was cooked to their liking. Two of the women said they looked perfect. The third woman complained her steak was undercooked. She had ordered medium well, and there was still pink in her steak.

Here is where the differences start. To the cooks in my restaurant, medium well offers a hot, slightly pink center. If you want no pink at all, you need to order well. Most people associate well done with burned to a crisp. We call that Extra Well. Just a slight difference that makes a BIG difference in the end. (This is why we have the temperature chart - with pictures!! - in the menu.)

The woman started to argue with me about the steak being undercooked. (Did I mention that she was the only one at the table with this problem?!?) I started to explain that our idea of medium well was slightly less done than what she was used to. I apologized repeatedly and told her we could fix this problem in about 5 minutes. "I know how to order a steak! Don't tell me how to order a steak! I wanted medium well!! This is NOT medium well!" She got so loud and belligerent that I sent a manager over to apologize again. He received the same treatment.

We finally got the steak out well done, but we let her think it was medium well. And now she wasn't hungry any more. "You may as well just throw the whole thing out." She just wanted another beer.

Our town has some unusual policies regarding alcohol consumption. One of them is that guests are not allowed to have more than two drinks without eating food. (We allow customers to bend the rule when they order because MOST of our customers actually do eat the food they have ordered.) Since this would be her 5th beer without eating anything, I was not allowed to serve it. Since she had been so rude to me anyway, I have to admit, it felt kind of good to shut her off.

The group left soon after, and both of the other women made a point to come and apologize for their friend.

I hope my friends never have to apologize for any of my behavior!

I Don't Cook the Food!!

A single lady was sat at a perfectly good table. She decided that she didn't want that seat, and without asking, moved herself into one of my tables. The door servers had planned to use my table for part of a party of 8, but now couldn't get the woman to move. So I was already irritated when I arrived at the table, because instead of the $25 tip I would probably have gotten, I was only going to get about $2. However, I pasted on that cheezy little smile and went to ask how she was doing.

She ordered, and I sent the order in to the kitchen. When her medium rare steak came out medium rare, she complained that it was undercooked. So I sent it back. When I came back with it about 5 minutes later, she started in on me. "I hope you didn't leave this steak on the grill that whole time! It is going to be so overcooked I won't even be able to eat it!" Already frustrated with the situation, my only response was "I'm sorry, I don't cook here, I just bring things out when the kitchen gives them to me." The steak turned out to be all right - and in the end, she left me $2.55. And the waitress who got my party of 8 got $32

Thank you so much.

You got Marinara Sauce Where???

Well, it was another eventful Saturday night at work!!

Actually, I was having a really great night. Tables were turning, everybody I waited on was NICE, and people were throwing money at me. I always like that....

All night long, I was able to keep a steady pace, with tables turning as others were eating. It was actually kind of laid back compared to some of the other nights when I find myself in the weeds.
The night just seemed to roll along pretty uneventfully.

Finally, the push started to slow down, and the MOD started to send some of the waitresses home. Since I was one of the closers, I was in it for the long haul. Once there were just four of us left on the floor, we started to get busy again.

I had a party of 5 who couldn't make up their minds on their order, a party of five who didn't speak much English, and a party of 2 who needed their app plates removed from the table. As I grabbed the plates, I didn't pay attention to how the customers had stacked them. BAD MOVE!! As I turned, the stack they had handed me started to shift. A small dish of marinara was pushed off the pile and went flying through the main aisle of the restaurant.

I ran out back to find a porter to get a mop. As I reached the galley, everyone started laughing. I had marinara sauce from my waist down. So for the next 5 minutes, all tables were on hold as two other girls tried to help me get all of the marinara off my pants. EWWWW!!! I never thought to bring back up pants...

By the way, the couple who stacked the plates left me a 35% tip. Thank you!

Here you go, little girl.

Another nightmare I never thought of...

On a very busy night, we order drinks and go to the bar to pick them up. Our bar staff is great, they usually have one bartender working service, so our drinks are ready within 3 - 5 minutes. However, sometimes it takes the waitresses a minute to get there to pick them up. What usually ends up happening is a log jam of drinks on the service bar with tags stuck to the sides of most of them. MOST of them, sometimes the tags fall off... And sometimes the drinks look a lot alike.....

Sooo, on this one VERY busy night, one waitress ordered a child's milkshake. (Made at the bar) and another waitress ordered a chocolate rasberry (also made at the bar, but containing Chambord, Stoli Raz, and Creme de Cocoa. - Delicious, but I wouldn't want it served to my 5 yo. See where this is going?)

Yep, you guessed it, the waitress looking for the milkshake came up and took the WRONG drink, served it to a little girl, and went on her way. Luckily, the little girl didn't like the drink, otherwise she may have made it through the whole thing without anyone noticing. But once she complained, her mother tried it and called the waitress over right away. Thank goodness for everyone involved that the family was very understanding. (Although the manager DID buy their entire meal.) This one could have ended very badly.

OH one more point to make this nightmare even worse... The mom at the table worked for the Assistant DA in our area. What a heart attack.

Does This Have Pesto?

All waitresses have their usual nightmares, too many needy tables, families with little kids that leave an unbelievable mess, and the usual jerk who doesn't like the way his beer (margarita, jack and coke, whatever...) tastes.

Last Saturday night, I got to witness a new nightmare first hand.

My restaurant has recently added many new items to the menu. One is a sandwich with several items on it and a new "kicking" mayo. So the customer orders it, and all seems to be going fine. So the food comes out, and everyone starts eating. When the waitress came back to check on everyone, the customer with the new sandwich asked her if there was pesto on it. Apparently he was severely allergic to pesto, and thought he could taste it in the sandwich (which does NOT have pesto, by the way). But it is still new, so the waitress said she thought it might, and she would have to check.

At this point, the customer literally jumped from the table and sprinted to the bathroom to try to get the pesto out of his system. (Yes, he was headed to the bathroom to throw up the meal we just served him.) Needless to say, when the waitress returned to tell him that there was no pesto, it was a little too late. I think everyone at the table, and maybe even neighboring tables, had lost their appetite.

So glad it wasn't me! After hearing this story, I took a second look at the new menu to make sure I knew all the details!

Serious Miscommunication

Well, I just got a phone call from work. It was an apology for "Tom".

Apparently miscommunication is ultimately responsible for the "part time" punishment. While I told one manager, who told the other, the details were not spelled out as clearly as they should have been. And the "offense" was not considered as severe as it should have been. In addition to that, many of the problems that the other had experienced were never even detailed and recorded by management.

Either way, this should not have gone on as long as it did. Even though we are not responsible in any way for what happened, we are responsible for making it stop.

I know that I am not alone in this situation. And I can personally tell you how overwhelming it is to go in and make a stand. But in the end, it is worth it. (Although I will probably NEVER clean out the ice cream coolers again...)

If anyone out there ever finds themselves in a similar situation, please go straight to management. If they are not as supportive as my own management team, go over their heads.

Here is an important Link:
Know Your Rights:Sexual Harassment At Work

And remember that you are not alone. There will be plenty of support for you along the way. And you will feel like a weight has been lifted in the end.

Good luck.