Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Jailbait.

We hired a new guy that I am training. He's about 6'1", full beard, and he's 18.
I went from "ooh, cutie", to wanting to mother him. I'm getting too old.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Five more days...

Due to unforeseen circumstances, I have been working since Monday. And will continue working until Thursday, unless Work Husband is back in time and I can get him to work a shift. Baseball season started and the moms are calling out on the weekends. WH had a family emergency. So, your little Blondie is on her 7th day of an 11-day streak. I'm on autopilot.
What makes me laugh is when we cover for another server, we act like them as a goof so I get to pretend to be a 6-foot-tall man.

"Has it Been a Long Day?"

Yes, customer who came in an hour before close. It's been a long week and it's not over yet.
We're short-handed and working to death. Please ask me for your extra ranch at the same time I have to heat up your soup so I don't have to make two trips.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

A dream came true.

So, a co-worker the other night was upset about her single lady on 6. She was being generally nasty, complaining about her food being under done then too done, being condescending. At the end of the meal, she asked to see a manager and, "You can bring me a rice pudding."

The manager comes over, she reiterates.. I walk in on quite a scene while I'm starting my fill-ups.
The table next to her, looks like a 20-ish son and parents, are going at her.
The son is saying, "You have been treating this girl like trash all night and it makes me sick. How are you going to sit there and lie and tell the owner she didn't take care of you?"
The lady says, "Well, my waitress never came back."
He is speaking raised-voice, "That is a lie. I have been sitting here witnessing this girl deal with your ignorance. She was an angel all night and put up with you and I can't believe you can sit there and complain."
She got real meek. Her food was wrong, her waitress wasn't good, but she'll just pay and go.

Hearing the whole story - she did put up with this woman and gave her everything she could. The woman was determined to complain. If I had a chance, I would have thanked the kid for saying everything we want to say to problem customers. He even apologized for the scene and left a $20 tip for our poor girl (Problem Woman left $2- must not have felt as guilty as she looked). We were all smiling the rest of the night.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Let's update our cast of characters.

Cook/Owner (CO): I've always been one of his favorites and he usually doesn't give me the normal kitchen problems. Lately, he's been a little tense and riding my ass, but at the end of the day, we good.
Owner/Hostess/Second Mom (V): The one what trained me, keeps me sane, keeps me safe. Sometimes a thorn in my side - but always for my own good.
Buddy: Recently came back. Been there as long as I have, we've always gotten along. Love her face.
Dickhead Host (DH): Oh, I could write pages. Owned and lost three restaurants. Plays favorites. Has.. weird policies and opinions.
Work Husband (WH): Another ray of sunshine, great to work with, great for reaching high things. Also known as Sajak. (I'm Vanna.)
Mary: Been there about three years. A 45-year-old man who gossips worse than a middle-schooler. Gets butthurt over dumb shit. Recently had his hours cut when Buddy came back.
Busboy: Oh my God. The older brother that teases you constantly.

Can't think of anyone else too noteworthy at the moment... You know, the usual rotating doors of a restaurant.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

This made me laugh.

So Work Husband had a table, an older couple.
When they asked the vegetables and she heard we had asparagus she got really excited. "Oh, I love asparagus, I haven't had it in so long, it's so good, I hope it's good here!" etc. etc. This lady was creaming her jeans for the asparagus.

He takes the order, brings everything out, drops off the asparagus - "Oh, there it is, I'm so happy, I love asparagus!"

As he walks away, "I really wanted broccoli."

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Mama... just killed a man...

Well. We have a regular customer. You know those regulars.

He complains about everything to anyone who will lend an ear. Burger too well done, burger not done enough, too much sauce, not enough sauce, too much broth, too much chicken, it never ends. Keep in mind he sits and reads his paper for twenty minutes and wonders why his coffee is cold. You've waited tables for three days, you know this man.

So I decided, next time I get a complaint, (AKA next time I waited on him), I was going to say something. This night, the coffee was warm and the food cold. I tried to see what I could do - take it back, nuke it, give him something else. No. "You're going to take it back cold and it's going to come back cold. I don't know why I come back here anymore."

"Well, you find something to complain about every time you come in, I don't know why you come back either."

He told me he was here for the "good" years, and now apparently the "bad" years. I told him we're getting new customers, we're advertising, etc etc and we have NOT had complaints.

He finally pays and leaves, taking the burger home for the dog. He's still in the parking lot when we close up about 45 minutes later, so we knock on his window and he says he's waiting for an ambulance. They come, they take him, a friend picks his car up the next morning and I hope I didn't give him a heart attack.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

A prayer for the feeble-minded.

I had an interesting interaction today. An elderly gentleman came in today, wanting to order a to-go. The host directs him to me, so I greet him and the following exchange occurs:

Blondie: What would you like, sir?
Elderly Gentleman: I want dinner, but I don't want mashed potatoes.
B: Sure, you can replace that. What would you like for dinner?
EG: Good, can I get french fries instead?
B: Of course, but what is the entree?
EG: They've made it for me before, and it comes with a salad. I just don't want mashed potatoes.
B: Okay.. but... what do you want?
EG: I want dinner to go.
B: Okay, well you have to tell me what you want for dinner. Do you want to look at the menu?
EG: No, no, I had it before. I just don't want mashed potatoes, and I want a salad.

At this point I realize he's a little.. not all there. So I try to avoid getting frustrated and help him out.

B: Okay, do you want chicken, turkey, roast beef, a sandwich? What are you looking for?
EG: Yeah, sure, roast beef, and french fries and a salad.
B: Well, sir, I just want to make sure you're getting what you want, and I can't do that if you don't specify so I can tell the kitchen.
EG: They made it for me before. I just don't want mashed potatoes.

Now, I'm getting a little confused myself and my co-worker can see I'm starting to get annoyed, so she butts in and tells me he normally gets the roast chicken. I ask him if he wants that, and he's saying 'Yeah, sure, I just want dinner' again. I told my co-worker to just take it, because apparently she's waited on him before. She told me later he reminds her of her dad, whose brain is also a little fuddled. When he left, he gave her a 10 and me a 5, which I tried to refuse, but he insisted since "I got no better use for it and at least you tried!"
I hope I'm like that when I'm older. I mean, you can't take it with you when you go.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Opinions, y'all.

I'm sure this is a big issue in more-employed restaurants. What do you guys think about dating a co-worker? Or not even dating, just friends-with-benefits?

Monday, August 25, 2014

Under-appreciation.

I pick up shifts. We all like to do a favor, to make some money.

I picked up four shifts last week, half and half server/hostess. They asked me for one this weekend and I said no.

No one said, 'thank you' for the coverage. But the one I can't do blankets it all, because I said no.
I don't mind doing favors, sometimes I'm even looking for an extra day, and that would be a favor to me due to the extra money. However, I have a life outside of my job. Sometimes I don't want to work an extra shift, sometimes I CAN'T work an extra shift. Why should I be punished for that?