Just go away and stop talking to me…

I fell asleep last night watching The Daily Show. I didn’t wake up till almost 12:30 a.m. I got up and went to bed. I didn’t post, I didn’t read, I’m not even sure I brushed my teeth. I slept like a log till 9:30 a.m. this morning. I got up and felt like a new man.

I had to work tonight. It started out slow but picked up pace a little as the night went on. For us, slow is only being on a 30 minute wait instead of a 90 minute wait.

For the most part the evening was uneventful. Except for one little hiccup.

I was working my favorite section tonight. Section 12. And I was busting my butt to keep my chairs filled, the customers happy, make some money and have a good time. And everything was going great until…

We have a host named Jeff who has worked at the restaurant since 1902. He worked there 10 years ago when I worked there and he’s still going strong. He knows his job like no one’s business and for the most part he’s great. Although tonight he pissed me off.

I had a party of two pay their check and leave. They were seated at the first two chairs along my counter. As they left I picked up their credit card slip, tucked it into my book and started clearing the counter. As I was doing this, there were two people perched on bar stools on the other side of the column that caps the counter. I stuck my head over and asked if they’d like me to get them drinks. The woman looked at me like I was crazy and said no. Her husband would get the drinks at the bar. That was okay with me. She was sitting in what I refer to as no man’s land. Not really my station, not really the bar. By this time the bussers have cleaned the counter and have it reset.

So I do what I do and I went off to the lobby to get people to fill my seats. I find two people and I head back in. I round the corner to discover that the two people I offered to get drinks for have gotten their drinks and are now seated at my counter. So I walk up to them and explain that I have brought two people to sit there. Now, if they’d let me wait on them in the first place none of this would have happened. And as it turned out, Jeff the host had told them to go ahead and move to the counter. Whoops. I’m trying not to be annoyed but sometimes I wish he’d just let me run my own station. So I arrived with my two people in tow and I asked the other couple to move.

And this pissed them off to no end. They didn’t yell, but at one point the man told me to stop talking to him. I apologized to them that they had to move but explained that I would be happy to get them a table anywhere they liked in the restaurant. I explained that I was willing to do whatever it took to make them happy. But it didn’t take much effort on my part to realize that these people probably were never happy. In fact they’ve probably not been happy since they were five. Once the man told me that if I really wanted to make him happy, I would go away and stop talking to him, I did.

I also made sure that both managers knew what had happened and I told Jeff the host to chill out and let me take care of my own station. Will anything come of it. Probably not, but there’s always the off chance that they’ll call in and complain. This is the reason I made sure everyone knew about the incident so that they could have stepped in to try and fix it at any point.

I try to give people the same courtesy I hope they give me. I have no idea why they were in a bad mood. So I try and forgive their crankiness. But at some point it becomes impossible to ignore and so I just say fuck it. I can only try so hard before the effort out weighs the benefit.

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Back to the Grindstone!

Before you read further, check out this link.

Did you read it? Really.

Then you’ll know that I’m starting to be scared about the things that follow me and I cause. As someone said it’s like I’m a ship in the ocean leaving a wake of destruction behind me.

In last nights post I mentioned that there would be no more crane collapses in NYC because I’m home now and they only happen when I’m gone. And what would you know. I get up, make coffee, turn on CNN just in time to see a story about a crane collapse in Oklahoma City. My GOD I’m going to destroy the world. Who knows what’s going to happen in Kentucky this week. I flew through Texas a week ago and now they are being hammered with a hurricane. Perhaps someone can show me how to tap into this power so that I can use it for good…most of the time. There are a few people that I might want swept a way in a tornado. But you can all rest safely, it’s none of you…”The Director”, Ashley the Cunt.

I have to be up early for me tomorrow, which I hate. My roommate and I are having company this weekend so we sort of have to pick up around the apartment and make it presentable. And you know how I love cleaning. And guess what I get to do tomorrow night. Go on….guess. That’s right. I get to wait tables again tomorrow night. How much fun will that be. I can hardly wait. Actually I can hardly wait to have money in my pocket again…so maybe it won’t be so bad. I do know that everyone at the restaurant seems genuinely happy that I’m returning. I’ve never had a job where they wanted me to come back. Usually they say good riddance and are done with me. I wonder what I’ve done wrong this time. I’m sure I’ll have lots of bitching and complaining when I post tomorrow night. Waiting tables is a wonderful source of blogging subjects.

And that’s all I got. See you tomorrow night. Let’s hope I make a million dollars, or win MegaMillions or at least don’t throw a roll at someone’s head.

I went searching for a funny youtube video to include about waiting tables. The one I found is one of the funniest I’ve ever seen. I’m still laughing about it. I’m laughing so hard I can hardly stand it.

Unfortunately, YouTube isn’t playing nice so you’ll have to click on the link to see it.

Why Da Fuck I Gotta Tip?

If you read about me in the news tomorrow you’ll know she was sat in my section.

Bitter Party Of One…

Someone actually accused me of being bitter in a comment today. Now I think this person was probably kidding but it made me realize that you guys might not know that 90% of what I say is just me being sarcastic. Of course the things I mention do annoy me, but I’d bet that it would take anyone who reads this blog about three seconds to come up with their own list of things that annoy them at work. The big difference is I get to deal with the public and it’s nothing but content for this here bloggy thing.

So really I’m not bitter…at least about work.

Now if we are talking about being 40+ and not having a boyfriend. Bitter.

If we are talking about being a million pounds overweight. Bitter.

If we are talking about not living downtown in my own brownstone bought for me by the boyfriend I don’t have. Bitter.

If you are talking about not making six figures this year. Bitter.

If you are talking about why I can’t win the lottery. Bitter.

If you are talking about having to take the subway instead of having a driver bring me home each night. Bitter.

If you are talking about not getting more than six hours of sleep tonight. Bitter.

If you are talking about owing twelve million dollars in student loans for my three degrees. Bitter.

If you are talking about not being more creative and inspiring on this blog. Bitter.

Okay so maybe I’m a little bitter. But not about work. I actually have fun most nights at work. Most nights. Including tonight. I had some of the most fun people ever tonight.

For example I had that table of four that gave me twenty bucks because I got them seated, fed, and out the door in less than thirty minutes.

There was the table of three sitting at my counter who got so pissed off at the way the two twit girls were treating me because I carded them and they didn’t have ID’s that they asked for the manager and requested the girls be moved, before they left to eat somewhere else. Not that they were going to, they were just defending me.

There was the family of four from Virginia who were just down home sweet and were not demanding at all and tipped 20%.

There was the table of four that came in at the end of the night. Two girls and two guys. The two girls were friends from Seattle and had met the two guys online. They had met in the city ten days ago and were getting to know each other. One of the girls was a hoot. And they tipped 30%.

And there were many more. But it’s hard to be sarcastic about nice people. And sarcasm is what I do best. Well maybe not what I do best but since this is a family blog I won’t get into that. But really, I do like my job.

Dining Out 101

Ten things to do to annoy the waiter.

1. Tell the waiter you are ready to order then sit and giggle while you try and figure out whether you want the Cobb Salad, the Chicken Fajitas, or the Club Sandwich. If you are still deciding you are NOT ready. And contrary to popular belief you are not the only person that I’m waiting on. If fact if I’M waiting on you I probably have about 25 other people that need something right now.

2. Ask for the check. And receive the check. And then tell me you have a coupon, or AAA discount, or military discount or any other kind of bullshit discount. If you know you have this, the time to tell me is before you get the check. If you wait until after, then I just have to print another check after the manager issues the discount. Think of how many trees you kill being stupid.

3. After you receive your discount, tip less than the amount that was deducted from the check. In most cases the discount is 10% so lets say your check is 88.88. So that would make your total discount 8.88. Leaving me 5.00 is not acceptable. It’s not even 10% and the thing that pisses me off even more is you fucking saved almost 9.00 would it really hurt to tip me at least 15%. Everyone I work with knows that the minute someone whips out their AAA card the tip just went out the window.

4. Ask for separate checks. Are you really so stupid that you can’t figure out how much you owe. If you are then I suggest you sue the state, city and school district that you attended elementary school in, because everyone I know (even in KY where the education sucks) learned division in like 2nd grade. So hears what you do. If your Cheeseburger cost 9.50, then you round up to 10.00. If your Chicken Nachos cost 12. 75 then you round up to 13.00. If you your Diet Pepsi (and god knows you need Diet Pepsi) costs 2.76 then you round up to 3.00. So then you add all that together so let me see, 10.00+13.00+3.00=26.00. So then you add a couple of more dollars on for the tax. Let’s say 3.00. That makes 29.00. And then you add 6.00 for the tip. So when the waiter comes by you tell him you need 29.00 put on your credit card. Now really how difficult was that.

5. Ask for water for the table. I have been doing this for a long time. And I have never seen a party of six where everyone actually wants water. In fact it’s probably only the person who orders it that wants it. And if you/they aren’t going to drink it, don’t ask for it. It’s a waste of my time and it’s a waste of resources. Think of all the money spent on wasted water, the straws and then cleaning the glasses.

6. Ask for thing one at a time. If you know you need mayonnaise AND ketchup don’t wait till I’m back from the kitchen with the ketchup to ask for the mayonnaise. Don’t wait till I’ve gotten your friend another beer to get one for yourself. It’s a pain in my ass and causes me to work twice as hard for my tips as I need to. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll gladly get you that beer, but one trip is always better than three.

7. Wait till you are finished with dinner to tell me that you didn’t like the food. Or that your burger was too rare. Or that your sandwich had mayonnaise on it. If you don’t tell me when you get it, I can’t fix it. And don’t think just because you tell me at the end, you are getting it for free. If I have my way you’ll pay double for being a pain in my ass. I think I’ve said this before on here, but here’s my analogy of getting what you pay for. If you go to the Gap and buy a pair of jeans and they don’t fit, or they have a hole in them, you take them back and you exchange them. And if the second pair is also ripped or doesn’t fit you take those back and exchange them. And finally they fit. But you DIDN’T get them for free. Why should you get your food free. I’ll gladly have them recook the burger. Or make you a sandwich without mayonnaise. And if you didn’t like it and wait till you’ve eaten every bite to tell me, at that point I won’t care if you tip or not, but you WILL NOT get the food for free.

8. Sit down for dinner at 7:25 when you have theatre tickets for 8:00. I can guarantee you that you WILL NOT make the curtain. In fact I can almost guarantee that you won’t even have your food by 8:00. Especially since you thought it was cute to let your five year old take 20 minutes to decided whether he wanted chicken tenders or the New York Strip. If you really want to be out in 30 minutes or less, I have two options for you. I can get you french fries. But even better, try McDonald’s on 42nd Street. It’s called fast food for a reason.

9. Order your drink/food, let me put it into the computer and then tell me you want to change it. If you didn’t know what you wanted you should have taken a little more time to figure it out. Especially with alcohol. When I put my drinks into the computer it takes the bartender about 20 seconds till he starts to make my drinks. This is because they like me and I tip a lot. So by the time I run by your table 45 seconds later your White Russian is sitting on the bar waiting for me. So yes, it’s too late to change it to a Long Island Tea. Sorry.

10. Let your precocious children take 45 minutes to order. I spent 10 minutes at a table today explaining to a six year old which drinks got free refills. Yes,  Mt. Dew gets a free refill. No milk does not get a free refill. Yes, Diet Pepsi refills are free. Yes, you WILL have to pay for refills of Apple Juice. Yes, Sierra Mist gets free refills. No you will not get a new straw every time. I’ve already told you that you don’t get free refills on milk. If you ask me one more question I’m going to drop kick you into the kitchen where I’ll stab you with a steak knife. And yes, that will be free.

I wrote this post last night.

Here are five more things that annoyed me tonight.

11. Ask for separate checks. And then pay with your company’s corporate card. And then tip me 10%. What the fuck. How does it cost you to tip at least 15%. Your company’s paying. How would you like it if your boss told you he was only paying you 10% of your bonus, well because he wanted to. I’m tempted the next time this happens to write down the company name, the names of the offenders and then write a scathing letter to the CEO.

12. Ask for something free. Where else in the regular world do you think it’s okay to ask for things for free.  For example:  the “flair” on my shirt, the glasses that we serve, the apron that I’m wearing,  free shots,  free refills of your beer, free ice cream,  free sandwiches,  free…you get my point. It annoys your waiter when you do this. I’ll fucking sell you my apron, for fifty dollars. You want it– you pay. You want one of the buttons on my shirt, I’ll give it to you for twenty. Those free shots, sorry dude. See my Gap analogy above. You wouldn’t walk into Home Depot and ask for a free box of nails.

13. Get pissed at me because of something completely out of my control. For example. The fifty trillion million dollar computer system goes down and you have to wait an extra ten minutes for your check. Don’t yell at me. Don’t ask me to take the gratuity off your check. And don’t say mean things about me when I’m gone but my fellow servers can hear. It’s not nice. And it’s not my fault. I hate the fucking computer system as much as you do. But don’t not tip me because of it.

14. Sit at a dirty table and then get pissed because I don’t rush over to clean it. It was your choice to sit there. You could have waited. You could have left your ass on the waiting list and been sat an hour from now. But no, you’re anxious to get in and get some food. Well that’s just fine, but your going to have to wait till I get to the table. And then, when I get there, I’m not going to be interested in talking to you just yet. I’ll be too busy trying not to dump ranch dressing in your lap as I pick up the dishes.

15. Be Canadian. Ugh!!! I have yet to be tipped even 15% from a Canadian table. Tonight I carded three guys and the minute they pulled out their ID’s I knew I was fucked. But as per my post several nights ago, I committed myself to giving them the best service I could. So I joked around with them, kept their drinks full and what do you know. I got seven bucks on my ninety-eight dollar check. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. In case you didn’t hear me. Fuck you.

Fuck you!

Guess who…

Guess who got fired today.

Go on.  Guess.

I’ll give you three guesses.

NO, it wasn’t me!

No it wasn’t ______________.

That’s right.  It was our resident bitch Gina.  Yes, the very same one who yelled at me weeks ago.  The very same one who got a great schedule even though she didn’t show up for the meeting.  The very same one who’s been scamming the restaurant.

Yep.  She’s gone.

I was going to blog about this over the weekend, but I wanted to make sure it was official.  Nothing like telling everyone she’s gone only to have to print a retraction later.  Of course everyone in the restaurant knew she was being fired since Friday.  Actually, it seems everyone knew but her.  I didn’t know this till today, but she called in sick over the weekend and so management didn’t get to tell her.  It also meant that she didn’t get to see the wonderful schedule that was going to come her way.  So she finally shows up to work today and she’s marched back to the  GM’s office and he has the honor of telling her she no longer works there.

I’d love to say that I’m going to miss her.  But in fact I’m not.  She was a complete pain in the ass to work with.  And because she refused to follow the rules she caused all the cocktail servers to be looked on as if we were doing something wrong.  Now we can start to breathe easy again.

I’m not sure exactly what got her fired.  There are two rumors, either of which would have been more than enough to cause her to lose her job.

1.    I was told that she went to the office got a handful of pennies then followed a couple of guests in the lobby and threw the money at them telling them that they clearly needed their change more than she did.  Whoops.
2.    She was telling people that sat in her cocktail section that we didn’t serve tap water.  If they wanted a glass of water than they would have to purchase the three dollar bottle of water.  Whoops.

I walked by her right after she found out, and I didn’t even know what to say to her.  I wanted to tell her she brought it on herself.  I also wanted to tell her that I was glad and that she shouldn’t let the door hit her in the ass on the way out.  But instead I offered my condolences and wished her well.

But when I got to the wait station I was jumping up and down.;

Saturday Night In The City…

Once again I have too much to blog about. How will I ever narrow it down to one subject and I’m already too longwinded to actually try and cover more than one topic.

So do I discuss the fact that I now live on tree-lined street?

Do I talk about the 80 bucks I found on the floor at work?

Do I discuss the fact that Gina has been fired?

Do I blog about the 40 black teenagers that were thrown out of our restaurant tonight?

Do I mention that I’ve made more in five days this week than I did in more than two weeks last month?

Do I complain about how tired I am after working five days straight and still having one more to go?

What to do? What to do?

I think I’ll discuss the kids that were thrown out of the restaurant.

I actually thought a lot about how to blog about this coming home on the train without sounding too racist. I figured the best thing to do would be to just tell the story and let you all come to your own conclusions.

And like all of my posts there has to be three pages of back-story to get us there.

And so…

I’ve mentioned before that there are certain people that come into our restaurant that don’t tip. For a while every Italian table that I waited on stiffed me. Then it was the Irish. Then it was the French. Recently it’s been the Canadians. Tonight I waited on four people from Canada, one of which was an incredibly HOT young man. They were perfectly nice and I joked around with them. And when they left the HOT guy made a point of telling me to keep the change. And it was three dollars. On a fifty dollar tab. I didn’t even know what to do with that.

And for years now I’ve kept a tally of the ways that I can tell if people are going to tip. People who order well done steaks don’t tip as well as people who order them medium rare. People who request thousand island dressing don’t tip as well as people who use balsamic vinagerette. People who smoke tip better than non smokers. People who drink tip better than non-drinkers. If you work in the restaurant business for more than three minutes you start to make these generalizations. Is it always true? Of course not. But across the board I bet you would find it to be true.

And black people don’t tip well.
I once heard a black comedian say “If you have a canoe, paint it black it won’t tip. I also used to work at a Bennigan’s in Atlanta and the black servers would come into the kitchen and ask “Who didn’t pay the electric bill this week. It’s black out there.”

I know it’s bad to make these generalizations. But work with the public for more than three minutes and you’ll start to do it too.

So when I first started back to waiting tables, I was telling my roommate about my list of people that don’t tip. And I included black people. He then told me about an article that he read. It basically said that the reason blacks don’t tip is because they don’t get the same service everyone else gets. If they got the attention to detail, and the niceness that everyone else got then they would tip like everyone else. And I had to stop and think. Do I treat them differently? I don’t know. But I told myself that if I did, it wouldn’t happen anymore. And since that conversation I go out of my way to give everyone the same service no matter who they are or what they look like.

And has it made a difference. I don’t think so. It’s kind of 50/50 for the most part. Tonight I waited on a table a family of four that were black and they left me seven bucks on $68.00. It’s ten percent but it didn’t come close to the fifteen refills of Pepsi that I got for them.

And yet I was nice and polite and thanked them profusely for coming in.

And what does all this have to do with the kids who were kicked out of the restaurant. Actually nothing and everything.

At 1:00 a.m. forty black teenagers appeared at the host stand. They were unruly, loud and boisterous. Just like all teenagers. Unfortunately, no one could determine if they were there to eat or to drink or get dessert or what. And so it took a few minutes to get them to tables. If you could call it that. They were all over the restaurant. They would sit at one table and then decide to go to another table. And then run to another table. It took almost fifteen minutes to get even half of them into seats. At this point all of my tables were done and I was just about to start my side work. And then Alex came out of the kitchen and discovered that he’d been sat a ten top with some of the kids. He was more than a little perplexed. First it was three minutes till closing. And then it was ten people. And then it was ten black people. And so I said I would take care of them. I did this for two reasons. It was 10 people so gratuity was included, and I knew that I could deal with their unruliness. I taught high school for three years, dealing with teenagers isn’t that hard if you get your “teacher” voice going.

So I approached the table and used my teacher voice. I said hello. And then got down to business. First order of business — drinks. That took some doing. What do we have? Do you get free refills? Are the refills on juice free? I answered the questions and then said, that as much as I wanted them to have all the time they needed, the kitchen closes in two minutes so if you really plan to order food it has to be in the computer super quick. And this is true. The restaurant closes at 1:15 on Saturday nights and they want all the food orders in by 1:20. I had to say this about three times and finally just said, look if you going to order it do it. If you just want to sit here, that’s fine but you won’t get any food. They finally realized that I was being serious and they ordered. All told it took about six minutes to get their orders out of them and into the computer. Within ten minutes total I had their drinks on the table. Of course about two minutes later they announced that they are going to move to another table across the restaurant. I told them what I tell everyone who says this to me. That’s fine but your food is being delivered here and you’ll have to pay for it before you leave. Once again they realized that I was not kidding and took their seats.

Unbeknownst to me the situation across the restaurant was playing out very differently. First about 15 guys surrounded the two blond girls that were having dessert and started to harass them. They were finally ushered to their seats and then proceeded to tell my friend Suzette that she wasn’t sexy enough to wait on them. She would have to get them another girl to wait on them. So she did the same thing I would have done. She went to the manager and told them what had happened. Of course by this time all of the management staff is in the dining room because it’s quickly becoming complete chaos. I should also mention that our management team has a very strict no tolerance policy on people belittling or harassing the staff or other patrons. In the meantime there are people running around everywhere. No one will sit down and by this time the orders should have all been in the kitchen because it closed fifteen minutes ago.

And so the manager goes over to talk to the guys who didn’t like Suzette. He was there about two seconds when they started yelling at him and one guy told him to suck his dick. At which point Allan suggested they leave. And so half of them got up and head out. But the only sensible guy in the whole group calmed them down and they started back in. Unfortunately, the less sensible ones got the rest riled up and finally Allan had had enough and he told them all to get out. And get out they did. By overturning tables and chairs and cursing and basically making a scene.

And as the only black waiter on the floor tonight said, “They really aren’t doing a lot to help their cause. And it only reinforces the reason people as a whole react toward young black men the way they do.”

And the night ended. And I did my side work. And I clocked out as usual. And I changed my clothes. And I waited for Leslie because we were riding home on the subway together. And we walked out of the building and headed toward the deli when 45 black teens (mostly men) started running toward us, and then past us, all screaming run, run. And we realized at the exact same time they were the same teens we had had in the restaurant. Who knows what they are up to, or what they were running from. But I would bet they had been up to no good.

Update: 

I realized this morning that I should have wrapped the story up a little differently.

I will still strive not to make generalizations that effect the service that I give my guest.  I also know that it’s a minority of any group of people that ruins it for the rest.  And at the end of the day, it’s my job to make sure every guest has a great time in my restaurant and that there needs are taken care of as quickly as possible.

But I still think Canadians are lousy tippers.

Server Schedules…

Part of waiting tables, at least in most restaurants is that your schedule changes weekly.  The staffing is based on sales from last year, reservations for this year, and the whim of the management.  So some weeks our restaurant needs 42 servers every evening, and sometimes they only need 16.  The decision as to who gets these very valuable shifts is up to the server manager.  He/She also decides what station you are going to be in.  So this person in a sense potentially manages how much money each server makes each week.  So it’s a good thing to keep yourself in good standing, kiss their ass, and not complain too much.

So when last weeks schedule was posted I was a little annoyed that not only was I scheduled in my first non-cocktail shift since October.  It was in the second worst section in the restaurant.  And the reason I was annoyed.  I’m the model employee.  Stop laughing.  I am.  Really.

Actually the reason I was pissed is this.

On March 7th there was a meeting scheduled for all the cocktail servers.  The reason for this meeting was to go over some things that were getting out of hand, to discuss some complaints guests had voiced, as well as complaints other servers had made.  It was scheduled at 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon in one of our private dining rooms.

I arrived at 2:45.  I’m always early for everything.  If I’m two minutes late it causes me distress.  I should also add that this particular Friday I was not scheduled to work.  So I was coming in on my day off.  I should also mention that the server manager had excused me from the meeting and told me that he would discuss everything with me, one off, so that it didn’t fuck up my day off.  Since I’m the model employee, get great shifts and am generally thankful I’m taken care of, I thought the least I could do is show up for the meeting.

At 2:55, Allan the server manager joined me in the dining room.  At 3:00 I was still the only one there.  At 3:05 I was still the only one there.  At 3:10 I was still the only one there.  At 3:15 I was still the only one there.  At 3:20, Anthony arrived.  This was bad because Anthony works cocktails during the day and during the day it’s considered just another section.  In other words he didn’t need to be there.  At 3:25 it was still just Anthony and me.  By this time Allan is pissed.  He had his typed list and was ready to go over things and no one was there.  Of course before Anthony got there, Allan shared with me that nothing that he was saying today pertained to me.  That’s why he told me we could go over things later.  At 3:30 Danielle showed up.  She had no excuse for being late, especially since she lives two minutes from the restaurant.

So finally Allan starts to discuss things that are on his list.  While he’s going over all of these things, he lets us all know that the person the meeting is geared toward isn’t there.  All of the things he mentions are things I’ve known about for a long time.  They are things I used to do, but stopped as soon as I realized that I wasn’t supposed to.  Through out the whole meeting we kept joking about this girl and her exploits as a cocktail server.  We also discussed that the reason she makes a million dollars more than us is because she scams and she breaks all the rules.  At the end of the meeting Allan thanked us for coming and joked about punishing the seven or eight other people that should have been there.

And this is the fun part.  I suggested that the way he should punish them is instead of giving them cocktail shifts he should schedule them in station 33.  That would certainly teach them a lesson.

And so when last weeks schedule was posted everyone of the servers who didn’t come to the meeting got there normal schedules.  And I got station 33.

I was PISSED.  I was so pissed in fact that I gave away the shift that I had shown up to work because I knew it was not a good night to stick around.  When I’m that angry I tend to do things that will get me fired.  Before I left, I pulled Allan aside and asked him what I had done to piss him off.  He seemed to have no idea what I was talking about.  So I explained to him that I was pissed and we needed to talk.  So we chatted.  Seems he did the schedule and sent it in for approval and someone else had made adjustments to it.  I explained that that was fine except that I found it very funny that I made the joke about people not showing up for the meeting getting scheduled there and I was rewarded with the punishment instead.  He apologized profusely and then told me to speak to the Assistant General Manger and tell him what had happened.

So the next day I showed up and talked to Jason.  And told him all the same things.  And he apologized profusely and told me he would take care of it.  So I’m still in a non-cocktail section but at least it’s not the worst in the restaurant.

And the point of this story.  Well the new schedule was posted today.  And the girl who didn’t show up for the meeting.  The one the meeting was directed toward in the first place.  Let’s just call her Gina for shits and grins.  This happens to be the Gina that yelled at me about two months ago.  Well seems her shifts were cut this week. In half.  And all of those shifts were given to me.  So someone is going to be very angry when she shows up for work tomorrow.  And I can hardly wait.

Because she’s a bitch.  And I’m the model employee.

Wednesday’s Mistakes.

Some time’s I’m not the brightest bulb in the box.  The sharpest knife in the drawer.

Take tonight for instance.  I had planned to go out after work.  I had planned it for several days.  I haven’t been out with people after work for a while and a beer sounded like a great idea.  And so I went.  Which was fine.  I had three beers and I came home.  The reason this wasn’t such a good idea is that I have to work tomorrow.  I don’t usually go out on “school nights” because I end up being tired or hungover and most times both.  And yet I went out.

Another reason I’m not so bright.

I usually only work four nights a week.  Anyone whose been reading my blog for more than a minute knows that even just four days is too much.  My feet hurt.  My body aches.  I’m just too much for more.  And four days is more than enough to pay all my bills and have money left over at the end of the month.  In fact I can give up a couple of those shifts and still have plenty left over.  So this week I was scheduled five shifts.  This in and of itself is a blog post.  I was scheduled four cocktail shifts and one “regular” shift.  Not only was it a “regular” shift.  It was in the worst station in the restaurant.  Needless to say I had a few conversations about what was going on.  Without going into all the details, the shift was at least changed to a more desirable “regular” shift.  So what did I do tonight?  Well around 10:00 the closing manager called me into her office.  Seems Danielle one of my favorite cocktail servers is sick and needed someone to cover her shift tomorrow (Thursday) and since I’m such a nice guy I said yes.  So not only am I schedules five shifts.  Covering Danielle’s shift makes it six for the week.  By the time Sunday comes I’ll be ready to kill people.

And none of this would be awful except that I’ve done something to my right ankle.  It started bothering me at the end of last week and it’s gotten worse.  I don’t know if it’s stress.  Or a sprain.  Or what.  I know that it hurts.  I’ve been killing the pain with Advil and Tylenol, alternating each every two hours.  For the most part this seems to help, but I can’t help wondering what I’m doing to my system.  And yet, I’ll tell you what I’ve told everyone whose asked me why I was limping tonight.  My fucking ankle hurts and it’s not like I have sick days I can use.  If I don’t work, I don’t make money.  So I work.  And that’s the end of it.

On a completely different note, well sort of.  I officially get health insurance as of April 1.  Yippee!!!!

You have no idea how excited I am.  Tomorrow I’m calling to make appointments with a GP doctor, a podiatrist, and a dentist.  By the middle of April I’ll be on my way to being just like new.

My first night back…

I’m annoyed.

Actually I’m very annoyed.

Did I mention that I’m VERY, very annoyed.

First.

I worked tonight for the first time in nine days.  My last shift was  last Tuesday.  I was off on Wednesday and Thursday and then got sick on Friday.  I called out of work on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Wednesday.  Which is a lot when you don’t get sick days, and you only make money when you are working.  But when you are sick.  You are sick.  I’m not one of those martyrs who thinks the world can’t do without them.  I’m just a waiter.  No one is going to miss me, and there’s nothing that I do that someone else can’t do instead.  So I called out.

So tonight was my first night back.

And I’m not as well as I thought I was.  Thirty minutes into my shift, I realized that I might not be 100%.  I was suddenly dehydrated, I was sweating profusely, my head was pounding and my voice was gone.  And it was only 5:30.  How was I going to make it through the next eight hours of my shift?  Ugh.

Then around the same time I was figuring out that I didn’t feel completely well, I walked into the manager’s office.  Just in time to see the NEW bar manager printing out a sign announcing that they were looking for servers to move into the bar.  For those of you new to my blog.  About six weeks ago, I was approached by the old bar manager and asked to be a bartender.  It took me a few days to decide but I decided that I would do it.  AND then I was told it HAD to be okayed by the General Manager.  Then I was told if he said yes training would start mid-February, and it was NEVER mentioned to me again.  While I was in Maine I called to see if the GM had okayed everything.  I was told he had, but that the bar manager had decided that the bar was over-staffed and that it would be at least mid-March before training occurred.  And so tonight when the sign was put up, I commented that it was interesting that they were looking to “audition” people, when I was told that I was a sure thing.  The new manager told me I could apply like everyone else.  I laughed and told him, thanks but no thanks.  I make plenty of money being a cocktail server and that I don’t really like being hung out to dry.  And with that I turned and walked out of the office.

And then I actually had to wait on people.  I’m trying to decide something, maybe you guys can help.  Is it better to get a bad tip from people who are rude to you, and make you run for things and are generally unpleasant.  Or is it better to get a bad tip from people who are nice to you, that chat with you for 20 minutes while you are trying to wait on other tables and who tell you that you are a great waiter.  If I had to choose, I think I’d rather get a bad tip from the assholes.  I don’t expect any better from them.  The other side of the coin makes me want to drown kittens.  Or push small children in front of a bus.  Or stab the very sweet British ladies that were my last table and left me ten dollars on 142.00 down the stairs and kick them in the stomach.  Does anyone have a Valium?

And then some idiot in our sales department thought it would be a great idea to have a party of 170 people sat at 11:30 tonight.  It shouldn’t have effected me at all.  But it did.  My last order took almost 40 minutes because it got to the kitchen after the big order did.  And then suddenly my cocktail area was filled with people who were pissed that they couldn’t get drinks from their waiters.  Who knows?  My guess, some lazy waiter who was upset because they had been asked to stay all night just to wait on this party and were only going to make about 75.00 for the night.  And then all of my tables were gone and all of my closing duties were done and I started to do my checkout, which is where you turn in the millions of dollars you are carrying around in your pocket from where people have paid you all night.  But alas, I couldn’t do my checkout because the 14.00 check for MY dinner earlier in the day had not been discounted.  So I asked the manager to discount it.  And 10 minutes later I asked him to discount it again.  And 10 minutes later I asked him to discount it again.  Finally I plopped my ass down in the manager’s office and stared at him while he was finishing up his paper work until he discounted my check.

And then I get to the subway only to discover I just missed the train.  And yes, there will be another, but it means I have to wait 20 or 30 minutes just to get on a train.  And then it will go “local” which means it stops at every stop instead of skipping from 59th street to 125th street.  So that will take another 40 minutes.  So now that it’s 1:30 it means I won’t be home till 2:45 or so.

And now it’s 3:349.  And I would have been in bed about 45 minutes ago.  But our internet connection is fucked again.  It took me almost 45 minutes to get my grocery order to process because the connection kept flaking out.  I had to restart the box twice before it would let me start my blog post.  I’m terrified that I’ve done all this typing and then won’t be able to post my entry.

Did I mention that I’m annoyed?

Very annoyed.

Really.  Very.  Annoyed.

Actually the whole night would have been fine if I had felt better.  It’s so hard to be nice to people when your head is pounding and they can’t hear you because you have no voice.  And so I’m taking my cold medication, sleeping late and hoping that tomorrow night is better.

Otherwise you might hear about me on CNN Headline news tomorrow night.

And the winner is…

The Cold.

In the battle of the Cold vs. Maddog, I think the cold is winning.  It’s been four days now and except for the fever being gone I don’t feel much better.  I had to venture out into the wild today to go to Costco to pick up my sanity drugs.  The train ride takes a little over an hour to get there, and then there’s a fifteen minute walk from the train.  It takes more than three hours to get there and back.  The reason I go so far to get my prescriptions filled is because Costco is significantly cheaper than anyone located near me.   By the time I got to the train today I was winded and felt like I’d run the NYC Marathon.  By the time I got to the store and waited in line and then got back on the train I felt more like I’d been hit in the head with a hammer.  And by the time I got home it was definitely more like I’d been hit by a bus.  I came in dumped my stuff on my bed and headed for the sofa.  I’ve been there ever since.  Lying flat seems to help the headache so I tend to only be upright in limited doses.  I’ll probably have to go lie down again before I get this posted.

On my way home from Costco I dropped by work.  I called in sick Friday, Saturday, and Sunday and wanted to just check in.  Company policy states that if you call in three or more days, to be excused you need a doctors note.  I have not been to the doctor and don’t plan on going.   It’s bad enough that I missing work but if I also have to shell out 100+ dollars to visit a doctor I’m going to be fucked.  No one mentioned a doctor’s note when I called in but I wanted to cover my bases.  I also wanted to try and get my shift for Wednesday covered.  That would give me till Friday to start feeling like a real person again.  As soon as I walked in my manager could easily see that I wasn’t lying about being sick.  He asked how I was doing and wanted to know if I needed anything.  I said I still felt like shit and needed to put up a sign to get my Wednesday night shift covered.  He told me not to worry about it and to go home and get better.  They really do like me at work.

And so I came home.  Got comfy on the couch after taking some cold medicine.  And slept for almost 90 minutes.  I almost felt better when I woke up.  Actually I felt better until about 15 minutes ago when I got up and started typing.  I wonder if I can wait tables lying down.  It’s really the only way that I can keep my head from pounding.

I remembered having this same sort of cold thing last year in Iowa.   As it turns out, it was a year ago last week.  I wonder if I can put it on my calendar for next year to take the third week of February off because I’ll be sick.  Just a thought.