...otherwise known as waitressing. I need cash. People come in, they tell me what they want to eat, I get it, they eat it, they pay me - everyone wins. One would think. No. Oh no. I could describe the many ways this simple sequence is flawed...but perhaps we should just talk about my Wednesday night.
I arrive at work 15 minutes early. Good. Time to talk to my boss about the two shifts they forgot to pay me for. No big deal. They were silly shifts anyway - where I had to stand out the front of Spiderman the Musical and hand out Outback flyers as the show was leaving. Not the most fun. But $30 for like 10 minutes of work! I track him down and tell him I wasn't paid...he huffs (he likes to huff at me)...he marches towards his office, I run after him. He says, 'I thought you didn't go.' I pause for a dumbfounded second and then say 'why wouldn't I go?' Oh, cause apparently 'everyone else' comes to Outback first to pick up flyers. I inform him that I took flyers home with me from Outback after the previous shift (why doesn't everyone do this to save time??) and that when I ran out of them there was actually a HUGE box of flyers sitting at the theatre. He says, 'Well, I thought you didn't go. That's why I cut back your shifts this week.' Oh...so that's why I haven't worked for a week and a half? I thought it was just cause I was new...or that he didn't like me...but it was cause he didn't TRUST me. Aha! Good to know. Great relationship. Nice open line of communication. Good. Now let's get to work.
A little quiet to start...I mean, it's 4.45 on a Wednesday. Who's eating? And then, just after 5, influx of hungry people. I get my first table, deal with them, then I get two tables sitting down at once...that's ok, it's a busy surge. But my tables are all in the same little section, so that's fine. Then the hostess asks if I can take an extra table that's not in my section...it's actually quite far away (it's a BIG restaurant). But that's ok, again, it's busy and I'm here to help. But when she asked, I was half-way through taking a really slow order from one of my tables. You know the kind of order where it's: 'So I want this cut of steak, but it can't be an end piece, it has to be cut from the middle, and it has to be very lean, and very rare, and I want broccoli steamed but with no butter, and just half a bread but don't bring any butter with that or I'll eat it, oh and I want water with no ice and with lime. Oh, and where are you from?? I like your accent.' AHHHH! 'Oh, I'm from the land of SHUT UP!' No, I like when people are friendly, and she really was, but I hadn't had the chance yet to go and say hi to my new table on the other side of the restaurant. Too many things. And I thought I was good at multi-tasking! Apparently not so much.
So, it may have been 5 minutes since the hostess told me that she sat them...it couldn't have been much more. I approach the table, and what awaits me? They're having a rather animated conversation with my huffing boss. Bad animated. So I stand on the sidelines and listen to the male customer loudly tell my huffing boss how they've been sitting waiting for their waitress for 15 minutes, they even had to ask the 'really lovely' male bartender to take their drinks and appetiser order cause they couldn't wait any longer. Oh, and this isn't how you should run a business. Oh no. He owns his own business and if he treated customers like this he wouldn't have any. Finally huffing boss calms them down and tells them they'll be completely happy from now on or it will all be on the house. Great. This is going to be excellent. When huffing boss leaves I step in and introduce myself, apologize for the wait and explain that I was dealing with something a little difficult, but they have my full attention and I want to make sure that from now on everything is perfect. (As one would expect it to be when paying $9.95 for a steak and two sides. I mean, come on!) Anyway, he warms up a little and is relatively nice. From then on things mostly went well, except that they got their salads about two minutes before their steaks, and my boss huffed at me again (it was busy, everyone's meant to help running food, but we don't have food runners, only waiters, so you can only do what you can do). When they paid their bill he used his credit card, but gave me a cash tip. He must have made a mistake...cause I swear he still didn't like me. I think he mixed up a $20 with a $1, but I walked away with around $24. I don't like cheating people...when I saw it I even went back to tell him, but he was gone. But whatever. Suck it, mean man. Oh, and before they left, they told me that the reason they came to Outback was because they had just walked out of TGI Fridays when they didn't see their waitress for 15 minutes, and when she finally noticed them she ignored them. I think they may just be really bad at telling time. And selecting fine dining establishments.
So, first annoying table gone and everything is going ok now. I've settled into the rhythm of the night - everyone being a little needy and asking for extra things. That's ok. But I do appreciate the two Australian guys who order two beers and two steaks, straight off the menu. Thank you! I DON'T appreciate the group of 4 who don't speak English (I don't care about that - they're on holidays!), take up a lot of my time (which I am happy to give now, cause stupid 'you kept me waiting' man is gone), and then pay for their meal and say 'keep the change'...which ends up being around 63 cents. Oh, did I mention that I have to pay 3% of my sales to the house. Not 3% of my tips, but 3% of my SALES. So I have to take money OUT of my tips to pay the bussers, hostess and bartender - even if the table doesn't tip. This country! It's so great that the restaurant gets away with paying me $5 an hour, benefiting them in every way, while I have to struggle for tips and then give them away. Ahhh! I know, bussers, the hostess and the bartender do great work. So why doesn't the restaurant pay them accordingly?? Come on America!
Anyway, second annoying table of the night (bad tippers don't count - it happens so often!). They order a T-Bone steak to share (that's fine) and he wants it cooked medium and she wants it well done. I explain that it's on the bone so we can only cook it one way. She says that last time they came here they were able to do both. What? It's a T-Bone steak. It has a bone in it. So I send out huffing boss to talk to them. Great - they want us to cut the meat OFF the bone, and then cut the little tender filet piece in two, and cut the strip side in two, and cook them separately. Meanwhile, I bring them their blooming onion appetizer (delicious, but deadly - an onion, breaded and fried). A minute or two later another waiter tells me they want to see me. Apparently their onion isn't cooked enough on the inside. So I take it back, the nice lady manager has a conversation in Spanish with the cook. He takes it back and whacks it back in the oil. I come back in 5 minutes to check on it. 'Wont be long'...or something like that (I should learn Spanish). I come back another few minutes later and what else do I see going on? Oh, great. Huffing boss is getting their crazy T-Bone steak plated and ready to send out. I tell him about the onion saga. He says, 'Did you wait until they got their appetizer before you put through the order for the steak?' I say, 'No, but they had it 10 minutes ago and would be finished by now if it wasn't for them not being happy with it.' He huffs at me. I take their even fattier blooming onion out and ask if they want the steak now since it's almost ready, or if they'd prefer to wait. Thank goodness they don't care, so I take that out to them as well. From now on they're fine, since they're happy with the steak. He did try to give me $5 less than the actual bill, which I thankfully noticed before he left. He tells me he misread it as $10 less. Hmm...whatever. He pays properly. Done and gone.
Last crazy story of the night, I promise. My last table. They both order food. She orders a cocktail. When they finish their food he orders an extra Caesar salad (weird, but whatever). When she's almost finished her cocktail, she asks how much for a shot of the rum that was in it, so that she can mix it in the dregs of her cocktail (weird, but whatever). I ask and find out it's $8 (expensive rum!). That's too much, she tells me, and to go back and find out what the cheapest shot is that she can get - doesn't matter what it is - ideally, for around $2. These people are going to leave me the best tip ever. Ok. When I ask the bartender what their 'cheapest shot, ideally for around $2' is, a guy eating at the bar overhears and thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. I'm finally able to take her a 'floater', which is the teeniest, tiniest bit of liquid ever, but it's $2. Of course when they go to pay she gives me a $25 gift card which has mostly been used - there's only $9 left. She tells me to try it again cause she's never used it and got it as a gift - great friend she has there! I don't believe her but try again and, obviously, the card's magnetic strip didn't lie the first time and hasn't changed its mind. So she pays the balance and even gives me an ok tip - did not expect that!
So, that's what it's like to be a waiter. There are moments I've genuinely considered just walking out. But then the rational side of my brain kicks in (or at least the part that knows about consequences) and I decide to stay. And it's not always that bad. And it pays the bills until my fame is enough that people throw gold at me everywhere I go. It shouldn't be long. Maybe only 15 minutes...I just have to try not to walk out or yell at anyone in the meantime.
No comments:
Post a Comment