And the people who come into my job are just as stupid as always. Tonight, we introduced new “tab procedures”. Tab procedures consist of us either taking a guests credit card or paying out their check each time they order something. Now. At games, in the bowling and billiard areas, and the bars, I can understand taking a credit card/credit card numbers, but not from guests sitting at the tables. This was implemented on a FRIDAY FUCKING NIGHT of all nights. So, basically, I made 47 bucks, people didn’t wanna order after they paid for their meals, didnt want to order any dessert, didnt want to get more drinks. Those that DID give their credit card numbers were pissed as hell behind it.

Tab experience number 1: Two black guests. Seemed to be understanding. They decide they don’t want to start a tab, and at risk of my job, I let them slide, because I was busy and didn’t have time to piss them off. They pay with a credit card before they leave, and the table beside theirs informed me about overhearing “It’s becuase we’re black”.

Tab experience number 2: “Why should we have to start a tab while we’re sitting at a table?” “Sir, I don’t know, it’s a corporate policy that I have no control over.” “That’s just fucked up”. Guests leave.

Tab experience number 3: Guests give card number, are understanding, and gladly run the tab and keep their table open. While table is open, not being bussed, two more black guests come in. They stand before said table. I walk up to said table. “Can we sit here?” “No ma’am, I still have guests sitting here, they are currently running a tab with me. Until they have paid out, I can’t bus the table.” “So that means we cant sit down?” “Ma’am, I do apologize, but as I said, I can’t bus the food off the table until the guests have gone.” “I think thats bullshit, you just don’t want to wait on black people. Youre a fucking racist.” Walked out the door before I could say anything else.

I’m not going to be a conformist with these new fucking procedures for much longer, it’s costing me money, and I hate to say it, but most of the black and redneck guests have been really fucking offended by it, as would I if I were in their place.

Corporate is getting a long letter signed by all the cocktails soon….

I bought it a few nights ago, my love for espresso driving me…probably to a heart attack one day. Anyhoo, here’s the pictures of it.

This is the new Mr. Coffee, 4-cup espresso maker, latte steamer, coffee-maker.

And here is the first drink I’ve made with the new espresso maker, nothing special, just a Cafe o’lait (I think anyway, I’m not good with those names. It’s just milk, sugar and a buncha espresso. I’m now up all night.

Now for the work stuff:

Work was awesome tonight, again, which surprises me because Sunday’s are usually drama filled. Well, there was some drama, but it didn’t involve me. Someone’s being “investigated” if you believe the word thats going around, for “inappropriate touching” meaning this person groped another persons penile area on the clock. Not sure if it’s true or not, but I’m lookin forward to finding out.

I’ve also been approached by a manager about teaching training classes at my job, which I’ve been wanting to do for months as the quality of the classes has dwindled lately. Many of our new people have said that they aren’t able to retain much from the classes, and that’s because the two “teachers” basically suck. They both happen to be the leaders of our serving depts. They’re great people, really, they just aren’t that great with classroom teaching from what I’ve been told. I have always been an interactive classroom teacher, in both of the other jobs that I’ve taught training classes, and I’m really looking forward to doing it again.

I’m also putting in an application to become a certified “Shift Leader”. Basically, if I get it, I’ll be doing the same things that I’ve been doing for months, only I’ll be getting paid a dollar or two more an hour. I’ll be making floor plans, assigning sidework, only if I get approved, I’ll be allowed to write people up for not doing what they’re supposed to be doing. I don’t plan on abusing the power, nice and fun as it would be. I will, however, use it on the lazy ones. “K” and “T” from the previous posts.

All in all, I’m really kinda disappointed about the lack of things to bitch about here in the past couple of days, and I promise there will be some good stuff coming for ya guys

Till then, happy eating, and always tip.

Over the past couple of months, theres been a couple of our cocktail staff that pretty much refuse to do anything at all for sidework. “K” and “T”. I can’t give names, anonymity and all, but let’s just say, they are horrendous when it comes to sidework and running sidework.

Any of you readers who have worked as servers or anything else in the restaurant industry, know that sidework is a part of the job, whether we like it or not. Now at my job, at least in my department, our sidework is basically nothing. We roll silverware…a staple of serving. We stock, clean, and reset our stations, and our server stations. Again…a staple. My question is : WHY DO THESE PEOPLE THINK THEY”RE BETTER THAN DOING SIDEWORK? We all have to do it, whether we’re closing and the ones who assign it, then get stuck with the extra, or we’re the early out people who have to do it so the closers don’t. I’ve been in the restaurant industry for over a decade now. I don’t particularly like to roll silverware, but I do it because it’s part of my job. I don’t particularly enjoy cleaning my tables, but I do it because it’s part of my job. I don’t particularly get turned on by stocking my sugar caddies and salt/pepper shakers, but I do it, because it’s part of my job.

The two servers in question don’t think they have to do any kind of work whatsoever, besides standing with their arms crossed bitching about how they’re not making money, whilst they ignore their tables and refuse to help anyone out. Why either of those people still have jobs is beyond me.

I ended up rolling a bin of silverware tonight just so I wouldn’t have to listen to “K” whine about it as he/she (once again, anonymity for those who read my blog) always tends to do. This person nicked their finger on a knife a few weeks ago while sorting silverware, and has been scared to do it ever since. The finger didn’t even bleed. The server was sent home in agony. Maybe one of you in the mediblog industry had this person come to your ER for their hurt finger!

On a much lighter note, other than the sidework, I actually had a great night. I got my ass kicked for a bit, but I didn’t really have many rude or obnoxious guests sitting in my section. Had a couple toward the end who decided they were too good to tip after running me like a dog, and just staring at me like i was a weird looking lesion. I get that I’m not all that pretty, but I’m also not trying to impress a couple of lesbians either. Damn dykes, giving us homosexuals bad reps for tipping. We generally tip pretty damn well, specially those of us in the service industry. But these two were just…..dour? No, not the right word. Maybe snobbish. Anyway, they just were not fun at all, and didn’t talk to me. Pointed at the menu, and didn’t tip. Oh well. I had some people who really made up for it.

I had two awesome ladies in tonight, who sat for about an hour and a half, two hours or so. I sat with them as they drank, had them both giggling. They were both pushing about 40 or so, and I have a way with making those women feel special, especially when they come in looking like someone just flayed their cat alive like they did. By the time they left tonight, they were laughing, smiling, and giving me hugs as they walked out the door. 15 on 70 between the two of them wasn’t a bad tip either. Not the greatest I’ve ever gotten, but the fun I had with them made it worth it. I did end up doing pretty well with my tips tonight, so I left happy.

To the two ladies who made my night, thank you. I really hope you were honest about coming back and seeing me, because ya’ll put me in a great mood. You both know who you are, because I gave you both the address =).

To the bartender that lost my ticket and claimed you didn’t pull it: drink some coffee, stop running your mouth, and work. Don’t deny pulling the ticket and not making the drink just because you lost it, that’s just rude.

To everyone else, have a great day, and remember, it’s Sunday now, there’s always good shit for me to write about after a sunday night shift.

I swear, if you have to ask how much a soda, or tea is, then you shouldn’t be coming out to eat. It was ghetto night last night, and it didn’t happen till the last few minutes I was there. That’s a lie, it happened all night. Tips were so shitty last night, it just wasn’t worth my time to be there. If you run me like a dog, then tip me accordingly. Not 2.87 on a 65 dollar check. Not a dollar on a hundred dollar check.

So me and “N” had a party come in and sit in both of our sections, so we ended up splitting it. I didn’t mind that in the least, a quick 16 bucks from the grat, that didn’t get rung up under my name. Somehow, I ended up with 8 high school girls who all had separate checks. And the chaperone, some fat woman, made sure to go to each person and tell them, “The tip is included, don’t leave them anything extra.” I hate that. Sometimes more than 18 percent is deserved. Especially after 8 high school girls run you for 6 refills each in the first 10 minutes they’re there. Waters. Waters…and more waters…and sharing of meals…I hate high school girls.

Telling you all of high school girls makes me remember the cheerleader convention that came to town a couple months after I started where I was at. During the holidays….

There were swarms of them. Anorexic, ghetto, slutty looking, blond bimbo trashy little girls. When I see a table sit down, and i see cell phones and sidekicks come out to text the little brat at the next table instead of just talking, and hear that annoying giggle, it really makes me want to puke. Then, they start playing games. Twenty loud blond teenage girls, all having their skirts up to their baby coozies makes me want to projectile vomit into their eyes, blinding them. They play a crane machine. One at a time now. As soon as the crane moves a quarter of an inch, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH” at the top of their lungs. Another inch, and another “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH” Imagine a roller coaster full of terrified kids and middle aged women. Or a woman being chased by a mugger. That, in a semi close area, on top of annoying top 40 music, right next to the entrance to the kitchen, right next to your section. For at least 3 hours. 3 hours a night…for the entire weekend…..makes me shudder with fear to this day. I didn’t like the cheerleaders when I was in school, and it’s not that I was unpopular. I was the token gay kid, that everyone loved because they liked diversity at my school and i was the only one with the guts to come out. The cheerleaders tried to accost me and make me their token gay friend, but i was forced to flee, because they gave me migraines with their incessant screaming even then.

I had lots of price checkers last night…(sorry, had to get off the cheerleader subject, got a headache). I’m talking price checkers on everything, even the things where the prices are listed in the menu. I’m sorry, but I don’t have EVERY single drink in our 220 drink menu memorized with price, ingredients, proof of alcohol, and taste (i’m a sober kid now). That’s a bartender thing, and I haven’t yet moved to the bar. The woman who asked me how much the sweet tea was didn’t get one when she found out that after tax, and with free refills, it would be 2.48 or so. She got a side of fries with her water. No tip.

“How much is a jack and coke?” “it’s about 6 bucks before the tax” “Well thats just to goddamn much” “Then go to a liquor store, I’ve got other guests while I’m arguing with you.”

I swear, if I didn’t like waiting tables, and enjoy meeting new people and getting new shit for this blog, I’d probably find a different line of work. There are certain guests who make my nights great.

Making the kids smile and laugh…

Parents who actually control their kids..

My regulars, who come in to hear my drama, laugh with me, actually care about how things are going, and tip lavishly ( I wouldn’t care if they did or not being that they come and see me a few times a week.)

I have a couple of regulars that come in every week, sometimes twice a week. They drink up a storm, and call a cab when they get too drunk…well, i call the cab for them. They ask how things are going with my partner and i, my family, and they always like to hear my drama. I tell them about the stupidity of most of my guests, and they laugh. When they came in a week and a half ago, and asked how i was doing, I told them the truth, that at the time, my partner and I were staying in a motel. The reason, I fucked up with the extension on our light bill and the lights were cut off behind it. My fault, not a big deal, i paid rent and grocery shopped the night before it was due, and i didnt realize it. They’re back on now. Anyway, these guests actually offered to pay the bill. I’d never have accepted an offer like that, not even from my family. I’d let my family help, but not pay the whole thing. I was in tears. Here’s a middle aged couple that comes to eat and drink, offering to help me with my light bill. For the sake of anonymity, i won’t post their names, but they have this blog address, and they know who they are.

The first thing they do when they come in the front door, is ask if I’m working. They’ve only stayed once when I wasn’t there, because no-one pays attention to them. The reason no one pays attention to them? They’re black. The black servers don’t wanna wait on black people, and the other white servers don’t wanna wait on them.

Me personally, I couldn’t give a rats ass if someones black or white, yellow or green, so long as they tip me well, and treat me right. Don’t run me like a dog just to see me run, don’t cuss me out because the cooks fucked up your steak, or the expo accidentally let a piece of bacon bit fall on your potato. I have a problem with servers who racially profile. I learned against it years ago. Yes, there’s gonna be black people who run ya like a dog, just like there’s gonna be white people who do it. Let me tell ya, rednecks are 10 times worse than black people when it comes to serving, until gratuity time. Black people, excuse me, ghetto black people, don’t think they should have to pay grats. It’s in the menu. I also have a problem with servers who completely refuse to take a table because the table is black. It does happen, even with the black servers. Why they don’t get fired, even when reported, is beyond me.

Anyway, this is a long enough blog, and I have to sleep for my night shift tonight, be there 4-about 2am.

I’m sure there will be another post tomorrow, so come back soon everbody =).

It was a slow night at my job tonight, at least in the beginning. Toward the end of the night, I got a little business once I was the only cocktail in the game room.

I walked up to a table that had been sitting for a couple of minutes, went through my spiel, and the gentleman ordered a drink from me. I asked him for his ID, and he told me that the bartender had it. I asked him if he had a tab running, he said yes. I told him that I’d have to start a new tab for the table if he wanted to order from me, and he said he’d just order from the bar. That was fine….until about 10 minutes later.

“Are you supposed to be my waiter or something?” It was the woman from his table. I stopped at the table. “Ma’am, I was told by your friend that you already had a tab runnin at the bar, and you’ll have to order from her.” Keep in mind, that neither of them told me they’d be paying separately.

“Well I need to order some food.” I decide to be nice and take the order for the bartender, who is slow as dirt mind you, and give it to said bartender.

“Can I order off the kid’s menu?” Hell no, bitch, you cant. But what I really said was, “Ma’am, the kids menu is for kids, 12 and under. I can ask my manager, but I can tell you what he’ll say.” “Well get to it then.” Not the best way to get me to help you out honey, not the best way at all. I ask my manager, and he tells me no.

“That’s just fucked up.” What the Hell do I care if you can’t order from the kids menu or not. You’ve already pissed me off. I take her order and give it to the bartender.

A little while later, I walk past the table again, and Cuntilishis is sitting there with no drink. I don’t know if it’s because she hasn’t got her id or what, but I stop by there again. “Are you gonna be drinking anything? Need a glass of water?”

“I ordered my fuckin drink 10 mintues ago. Yall are so goddamn slow.” If this bitch cusses me again I’m gonna have her thrown out.

“Well, ma’am, you didn’t order it from me, and if you continue to use that language with me, I’m going to have you escorted out of here.”

“Excuse me?” “You heard me.” “well, you all fuckin suck.” “Well, I’ll just let you tell the manager all of this.”

Turns out, she wanted to pay cash for her drinks, which noone told me, even though I asked. I got her two drinks, pissed her off asking for her ID to serve her, and ended up telling her to pay her tab before I called the manager on her.

Restaurant guests, when you talk to your server like a dog, chances are youre gonna get shitty service. Keep that in mind when you come in acting ghetto as hell, when you run us like dogs, and when you come in acting ghetto as hell.