I had another one of those bad nights at work.
It started when the chicken caesar salad I ordered for dinner had about twelve cups of dressing on it. It was more like caesar soup than salad. I picked out the chicken and left the rest. This meant that I spent the whole night hungry, which might explain some of my grumpiness.
When I got to work tonight I checked the line-up to see who was the head waiter for the evening and to see who was going to be in my wait station all night. Out of ten servers in my area I only liked two of them. Fuck.
Then when my shift started I had four little girls sitting at my counter drinking water. While their mothers sat across the room at the bar eating nachos and drinking beer. So I had two tables taken up with people who weren’t going to order anything. It was almost 6:15 before they left.
90 minutes into the shift the computers went down. Again. For the 10 millionth time since they were updraded to the new system. So I spent 15 minutes trying to get checks printed for everyone, run credit card etc. And how do you do this. You take a paper check and you hand write in everything the table had and then you get a menu and you write in all the prices and then you take a calculator and add it all up, multiply by 8.375 or something like that to get the tax, and pray that you’ve guessed right on the alchohol and then you drop the handwritten check at the table. Needless to say this is not a fast process. By the time I did this for three tables they were all pissed and people sitting at my counter had gone to the bar for drinks because their waiter was nowhere to be found because he was in the kitchen adding up fucking checks. The system was down for about 25 minutes. Which was exactly enough to ruin my already pissy ass mood.
I’ve said this to every manager that will listen. If I performed as well as our computer system performs they would have fired me about two weeks after I started. The fucking things less reliable than the weather.
So I just called it a night. I waited on tables but I didn’t hustle. I gave bad service. I did the absolute minimum I had to do to get through the night. And you know what’s really funny, I still made more than most of my fellow employess.
Of course the night was capped off by my last table walking out on their tab while I went to print the check.
And the highlite of everyone’s evening. The drunk guys who sat at the bar and had the following exchange with a female bartender.
Drunk Guy: Hey do you have long shifts here? Are you tired?
Bartender: Yes we have long shifts here and yes I’m tired.
Drunk Guy: Then why don’t you just climb up my leg and hit the sack.
Bartender: Pay up boys. That WAS your last one.