Day thirty one: Halloween.

I've never really been much of a Halloween kinda gal. Sure I did the trick-or-treating thing and LOVED it. Heaps of candy? What isn't to love? 


I remember in the third grade for whatever reason both my parents were home at lunch time and I had snuck into my stash to eat a Tootsie Roll before I ate  proper meal. Clearly my supply was dwindling if I was munching on one of those. I must not have been as stealth as I had intended because I got caught red handed. My dad took away my candy but the biggest injustice is that he had said I ate a chocolate bar when really everyone knows that a Tootsie Roll isn't chocolate. So had I lied when he asked if I ate a piece of chocolate? No. No I did not but it was hard for me, as a 10 year old, to rationalize with my police officer father with chewy gunk stuck in my teeth. 


Now that I'm older and arguably wiser I find that Halloween is just another day. 


At (insert real name here) we were encouraged to dress up for Halloween. I saw this as an opportunity to wear jeans to work so I recycled a costume from a couple years ago and went as Wayne Campbell from Wayne's World.  In all sincerity, I just wanted to wear jeans. Luckily I had a Wayne's World hat and a clean black t-shirt kicking around. 




I thought it was a brilliant costume but it got lost in translation with the after church lunch crowd. Try explaining a movie based on an SNL skit to a big top of geriatrics. Eventually I just said I was a beer delivery guy.

Needless to say I didn't win best costume but I got to wear jeans and I'm happy with that.

Day twenty nine: blogging.

I don't know which is more difficult, living only on tips or maintaining a blog.


I didn't take into consideration the days that an idea just doesn't spark, or just being so tired that the last thing I want to do is sit in front of my macbook and type away.


I should have known better. I couldn't even keep a journal or diary as a kid for more than three days. I think it's because I'm an Aries which means two things:

1. I'm a procrastinator that gets bored easily. 
2. My birthday isn't for another five months so there is plenty of time to get me a present. 

My mom is on my everyday to make sure I get my ass in gear and get my work done. She said "(Insert my name here) I'd hate to see you get stuck in a place where you are miserable having known you could have avoided it."

She's short but wise, that mother of mine. 

It's nice to know that I have someone who's got my back but I can only operate with that safety net for so long before I have to start making moves for myself. 

I was watching an episode of Parenthood based on the major motion picture starring Steve Martin when believe it or not the NBC comedy-drama? Dramady? Comedy-drama (sounds less pretentious) struck a chord:

"Life will knock you down more times than you can possibly imagine. Don't knock yourself down." 

It's time to stop knocking myself down. 

Day twenty eight: employee incentives.

Every so often management tries to get the servers to, simply put, try. Most of the time it's a competition to see who can sell the most of a particular adult beverage and most of the time the prize is an appetizer or dessert from (insert real name here).

I can't think of anything less appealing than food from (insert real name here) as the prize. This isn't to say I don't like the food but spinach dip doesn't bring out the competitor in me. I have won a couple of these competitions before but it was just plain luck that my entire section was sucking back over-priced Sangrias.

Fact of the matter is, if you want me to care, nachos aren't gonna get the gung ho going (please note the alliteration). If you want me to try the incentive is simple and who better to put it into words than Academy Award winner and star of the box office smash Snow Dogs, Cuba Gooding Jr.: 

It's the age old truth, and half title from Wall Street 2, money talks. 


Tonight, we played Hot Potato. The premise sell something on a list of menu items and get the potato. If you're holding onto the potato when the manage yells out "potato" you win $5. 


If you think this is gonna light the proverbial fire under all our server asses then you, my friend, are correct. 


Long story short, I'm $10 richer. 

Day twenty-seven: make friends with the cooks.

If there's one thing I can't stress enough it is to MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE COOKS.

At (insert real name here) the cooks don't sabotage a table for a nasty server (at least I don't think they do) but they can certainly make life easier in the event of a problem. Let me clarify. 


Let's say I forget to punch in an order and don't realize my glaring mistake for 15 minutes until I go to the kitchen to check on the progress of said table's food. A friend in the kitchen can go a long way when it comes to getting my food out "on the fly." 


"On the fly" means fast, pronto, as soon as possible, right effing now! You get the point. 


There have been a few times when a cook(s) have saved me and thus kept me in the good graces of a table resulting in a good tip. I show my appreciation to those cooks by giving them a little extra come time for tip share. 

There is one particular cook, however, that drives me and everyone else at (insert real name here) insane. We have had words on numerous occasions and each time I get annoyed with myself because I should have know better than to get into a verbal throwdown with someone less capable than myself. She is an idiot who thinks her ability far exceeds anyone else. Her mantra: "I'm not just a pretty face, I can cook too." 


Wrong. On both counts. 


But, and I stress this, the last thing I need to do is add fuel to her incompetent fire and make an enemy in the kitchen. I make a concentrated effort to be nice and not let my frustration get the best of me because sometimes, I need her to make my food a priority. 

Day twenty five: same-siders.

There is a certain type of diner that give me the heebie-jeebies. The diner in question, or rather diners, is what I like to call "same-siders."

Same-siders are couples who sit on the same side of the table or booth as each other. Let's not get this confused with tables of three people or more. I'm talking two-tops here.

Let me digress here for a moment to explain the "top system" for those of you who have never working in the restaurant industry. It's pretty simple: two-top is a table of two, four-top is a table of four and so forth. A big top is a table of six or more. You follow?

Same-siders don't sit on the same side as each other for practical reasons like being able to see the television when a sporting event is on. They sit on the same side as each other to be close. Call me a cynic but I think that a couple should be able to go an hour without whispering sweet nothings into each others ears.

Almost as bad as same-siders, across the table hand-holders. Across the table hand-holders (ATTHHs) cling on to each other like the death scene from the major motion picture (and multiple hour waste of time) Titanic:

What's worse is when I, or any server for that matter, try(tries) to put a plate down in front of them and the ATTHHs begruginqly release each other as if I'm a jealous ex-girlfriend trying to keep them apart.

I get it across the table hand-holders. You're in love and you can't go more than 45 minutes without a kung fu grip on your lover's paws but can you cut the crap long enough for me to put your chicken salad down and be on my way?

Save your pseudo public display of affection for when I'm not trying to get a job done.

Day twenty four: serving to spec.

At (insert real name here) there is a specific way servers are expected to serve their table. It goes a little something like this:


1. Greet the table and take beverage order.  

"Hi my name's (insert real name here). I'll be looking after you this afternoon/evening. Today/tonight we're featuring (insert appetizer here) and (insert two beverages here). Can I bring you something to drink while you look at the menu?"

What I actually say:

"Hi, my name's (insert real name here). I'm looking after you this afternoon. I can't promise this is a good thing but I'll do my best. What can I bring you to drink while you scope out the menu?"

Generally, when the table has been seated the host or hostess has already told them about the feature drink, the soup of the day and the feature dish. I see no point in wasting 45 seconds by repeating verbatim what has already been said. 

Sometimes a table will ask me what the drink special is to which I respond "all of the drinks are special everyday." Special and feature are two completely different things. Special implies there will be some sort of discount while the designation, feature, is simple a trick to push Bahama Mamas and Irish Coffees on unsuspecting diners. 

I then tell my table I don't want to start off our server-diner relationship on a foundation of lies. 

2. Bring out drinks, take appetizer order. 

"Can I start you off with an appetizer? Tonight we're featuring (insert appetizer here)."

What I actually say:

"How are you making out with the menu? Do you want a couple more minutes?"

3. Bring out food. 

4. Check back. 

"How's is everything tasting? Is there anything else I bring out for you right now?"

I try to wait until everyone at the table doesn't have a mouth full of food to go over and ask. As a diner I find it a little annoying when I have a mouth full of food I'm asked a question. 

5. Clear plates, take dessert order. 

"Is there anything else I can bring out for you right now? Coffee? Tea? (Insert dessert name here)?"

What I say:

"What else should I bring out? Dessert? Second dinner?"

6. Bring out dessert and/or drop off the check. 

"When you're ready, I can take cash or credit at the table or debit over by the bar."

Then I hope for the best. 

Day twenty.

More often than not when someone hears that I'm a server the first question that comes out is "have you seen Waiting?!" To which I respond, "yes."

Most people who have never been in the service industry assume they know how it works for having seen this movie:

There is some degree of truth to it but there isn't any tampering with food at (insert real name here) or sex in the bathroom or male staff showing each other their genitals. It just doesn't happen like that. 


There is one thing that hold true though. Steak. We sell a lot of Steak at (insert real name here) and quite often it comes out wrong. Now, most of the time when it comes out wrong is due to the fact that most people have no idea what the difference is between medium rare, or medium or medium well and so forth. Here's a little chart to show the difference:

The rest of the time when a steak comes back is because the broil cook screwed it up by not paying attention or for the sure fact that he or she doesn't know how to cook meat. It's frustrating as a server because my tip depends on the broil cook's ability to make a steak right. 

Day eighteen.

Hours in a restaurant are unpredictable. I can't make definite plans to go out to a movie because I never know what time I'll get out. Tonight I closed the restaurant. Close shifts usually go to the servers who have worked at (insert real name here) the longest. It's a seniority thing. I'm lucky enough that my front of hour manager throws me a bone every so often and schedules me to close. 


My last table left at 9:30 and the other close server still had a few so once I was finished with all of my chores: rolling cutlery, wiping down the counters, wrapping up the expo station (putting away sauces, garnishes, etc) I was able to pose out and go to the movies. It was cheapie night which makes getting out of work in time to catch a flick even more powerful awesome. 


I saw Jackass 3D. Technically my first 3D movie, aside from Hubble at the IMAX, which I fell asleep at, and a sweet lazer show at Science World in Vancouver. I've got to be the only person I know who hasn't seen Avitar. I've already seen Fern Gully and that was enough of an emotional rollercoaster when I was a child I don't need to see the grownup version in three dimensions. Not interested. 


Jackass 3D was alright. I would have felt the same way if it wasn't in 3D. I don't really care much for the technology to be honest. It was unnecessary for this movie. I think I'm getting too old for the antics of Jackass too. I almost threw up 4 or 5 times, a sure sign that I am growing weary in my old age. Steve-O looked pretty haggard too. Now that he's off dope and booze getting tossed around my a ram or drinking someone's sweat don't seem like great ideas anymore. 

Day seventeen.

Working in a restaurant has destroyed my ability to wake up and be productive before 11 a.m. I don't have a consistent schedule from week to week so my sleeping pattern is all out of whack. Generally I set my alarm to be up for at least a couple hours before I go to work but I end up hitting the snooze for two hours or just resetting my alarm.


Today I worked at noon. I have four lunch shifts this week which I am not happy about in the least. Lunch shifts usually mean I only work for two or three hours and make terrible money. The higher the bill, the more tips a server makes. It's hard to get a table to order booze at lunch because most of the time the tables are seniors who rarely drink or people who are popping in on their lunch hour not looking to go back to work smelling like a distillery. Most of the time people get the $6.99 lunch special and water. I made about $20 today. I was hoping for more cash than that but I suppose it'll do.


Tonight I'm going to the King's Head for CreCommedy night. Creative Communication students from Red River College are performing a few minutes of stand-up comedy. Last year I took Kenton Larsen's comedy writing class and the stand-up night was my absolute favourite assignment from the entire year.


***Update***


CreCommedy night was a lot of fun. There was a great turn out and some pretty funny comedy. To be fair, there was some pretty awful comedy too. I'm looking forward to next week when the rest of the group is up to bare their souls on stage.

Day sixteen.

There is nothing more frustrating than working your tail off for a table only for it to leave you absolutely nothing on a bill of $120.


Tonight I served a table of foreigners (insert your perceived stereotype here). I knew off the bat that I wasn't going to make a dime. I knew it. It's like thinking tossing $5 into a VLT is a good idea. You know that you're going to lose your money but you're hoping Lady Luck will throw you a bone to win $100. It was a sure thing that I was going to get stiffed but that little bit of me -- the what if, the long-shot hope, made me think just maybe, maybe I'll make some coin. Serving is like gambling. Sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down but you're always chasing the gratuity dragon. Sounds more like a heroin addiction than gambling I suppose.


Now I know singling out foreigners and their poor tipping, or lack thereof, is in bad taste but it's the truth. And for a server, it sucks.


Not only was I on my 'A' game but I had to gather up all the other servers to sing a birthday song. I see the second hand embarrassment diners feel for us. It's in their eyes. Friends I have that serve at other restaurants cringe when I mention the birthday song.


I think that if you want to embarrass your loved one by having the restaurant staff clap and sing like trained monkeys, at least have the decency to throw a couple bucks my way.


What's worse is that the "birthday boy" kept yelling "kiss my cheek! kiss my cheek! It's my birthday!" Rude. I just awkwardly laughed it off. What I wanted to say to him probably would have gotten me in trouble. I don't respond well to getting in trouble as it more often than not ends in tears. My first instinct is to cry.


It wasn't the worst night I've had but it certainly wasn't the best. My tips were pretty pathetic for a closing shift.

• hours worked: 6.54
• total sales: $847
• tip out: $25.41
• cash in hand: $62

This night can only be saved by one thing: Bad Country at the Standard Tavern (formerly known as Hooligans and Eddy's Garage) because Bad Country is unreal. 

Day fifteen.

Sometimes I forget when I work I am being paid an hourly wage. It can get frustrating not working the money making shifts, say for instance, a Friday night. I try to work as much as I can. I tell the other servers that if they need to get rid of a shift I will take it. The point of this game I'm playing is to make as much money as I can, clearly, the only way to do that is to work all the time. 

I offered my serving services to no avail but that didn't mean I wasn't needed in the kitchen as an expeditor.  Tonight I was the Expo, the person as I've mention before, who organizes the orders for each table. It was a shit show tonight. There is no other way to explain the anarchy that took place at (insert real name here) this very eve. A shit show. 

On a side note, my mom told me I should stop swearing when I write. The rule of thumb is that the only time swearing is appropriate is when you stub your toe. My mom hates swearing. I told her I have to swear in lieu of discussing my intervenes drug use and unprotected sex. She didn't think that was funny.

When I work expo I don't care if I hurt someone's feelings. I don't care if someone thinks I'm rude. My job is to make sure people get to eat what they ordered, how they ordered it, as fast as I can. When a person comes to (insert real name here) there is no excuse for their food to arrive at the table, cold, with the wrong side, 50 minutes after ordering. Sad thing is, that is exactly what happening tonight. As a server working the expo station I can empathize with both the kitchen and the servers. Keeping tables full of hungry strangers happy when their food is taking almost an hour to get to them is exhausting. How difficult is it to make a damn chicken caesar salad? But at the same time, I feel for the cooks that are getting dozens and dozens of orders thrust upon them all at once.

It's on the cusp of a no win situation when a restaurant gets slammed. I say the cusp because there is in fact a winner in this scenario. The winner is the customer. Most times, a manager will comp the food. A comp is when food is taken care of on a bill. That is to say, the customer eats for free. If food isn't comped then a discount or perhaps a hefty gift certificate is given out to compensate for the ridiculous wait time.

Restaurants want your business. If your food comes out wrong or cold or late say something when the manager or supervisor visits your table. If you have a legit complaint you may be able to score yourself some free goods. What's the worst thing that could happen? You get an apology? Just remember the Golden Rule: treat others as you would have them treat you. Be polite. 

Three consecutive hours of getting slammed has earned me an adult beverage. 

Day thirteen.

I have a day off... sorta. 


On Wednesdays I have class in the afternoon. I normally don't get scheduled at (insert real name here) so I consider it my pseudo day off. 


On days like these I try to get some work done, key word being "try". By work I mean cleaning my apartment. 


Keeping my apartment clean is one of the most difficult things for me to do. I am a secret lazy person. I am so effin' lazy. 


Cleaning for me is like going to the gym. I know it's good for me but I'd rather watch four episodes of Teen Mom then feel bad about myself after. 


I spend too much waiting for my life to start. I used to have such high hopes for myself but those aspirations have since faded away and I only have my laziness to blame for that. It's like I blinked and boom! (Insert my name here)! This is your life. I'm 26 years old, still not finished University/College and I feel stuck on a treadmill (my least favourite of all the cadio equipment). It isn't the worst feeling, I'm sure but it blows. I'm constantly thinking "tomorrow is another day, things will be different by then".  


Whoa... heavy right? 


I'm putting my foot down today. I will clean and do laundry. I will not rest on my tail only to neglect my personal responsibilities for terrible MTV reality programming. 


Step one: sign up for laundry time


Each floor in my building has a laundry room. A FREE laundry room. This fine feature adds to the overall coolness of my apartment. There is a schedule posted on the wall that allots for each suite to have a guaranteed 4-hour slot to do laundry. I've been here since May 2009 and I just signed up for Wednesday evening from 4 p.m. to 8 p.m. I use Gain because Gain  smell is the best smell of all laundry soap smells. 


I usually stick to smells that fall in the Gain Laundry Detergent category. Rainshower, clean linen... those are the air freshener smells I like. Country Apple, Lavender Breeze... gross. Same rule applies with the tree-shaped car fresheners: new car scent is the ultimate car freshener. I used to stick the tree in the car vents when I drove my mom's car around so she couldn't smell the cigarette smoke. But she knew... oh she knew. 


Talk about getting side tracked. 


Step two: get motivated


I'm not exactly sure how this one goes...

Day eleven... again.

Ask and ye shall receive.

Believe it or not (insert real name here) was pretty busy for a Thanksgiving Monday. I think it was mostly due to the Bomber fans who came in for a bite to eat after the sweet win over the B.C. Lions.

I made some decent coin tonight:

• hours worked: 4.85
• total sales: $558.07
• tip out: $16
• cash in hand: $60

What's even better is that the gal whose shift I took brought me pie: apple AND pumpkin.

I have decided to ditch the Thanksgiving pizza and settle with pie.  

Day eleven.

It's Thanksgiving today so naturally I dragged myself out of bed at crack of noon and I've been watching Youtube videos of Tracy Morgan for the past four hours. 


Thanksgiving weekend is one of the slowest times for (insert real name here) and rightfully so. Families and friends get together, stuff their faces with turkey and pumpkin pie, and the thought of going out to eat is the furthest thing from their minds. Needless to say it hasn't been a money making weekend. 


My parents live on the East coast and the rest of my family lives on the West coast so Thanksgiving dinner for me will probably end up being pizza. I've been invited to a bunch of dinners this weekend but if I can't have my mom's food I'd rather be working. 


The party I went to on Saturday night was a blast. There was no drama and plenty of laughs. My mom always tells me "common sense prevails" and it did. 


I'm about to get my ass in gear, go to work and hopefully make some money. Last night I got stiffed a couple times. At the 9:20 a couple came in to get some grub. Sure, the "crispy onions" weren't so crispy and the mozza sticks were a little underdone but I had a cook make new ones and I hooked them up with a couple free desserts. $50 check... nothing. I hope they break up. 




Oh yeah, Happy Thanksgiving.

Day eight.

When the temperature hits 26 degrees in Winnipeg in October it makes for a slow day/night at the (insert real name here). 


Today I worked a split shift. I walked into the restaurant 10 minutes before my lunch shift only to find that almost my entire section had been seated and the tables were already being served. It blows, big time, when you get into work and there are limited tables to be sat. This means less money to be made by me. 


I ended up serving two tables which left me with enough cash to go sit on a patio for my two hour break with some of the other servers working split shifts. 


We got to talking about a party happening tomorrow night and who is invited and who isn't. Servers, cooks, bartenders, essentially everyone in the restaurant industry is notorious for drinking, drugging and whatever unsavory acts you can think of. I fall into the drinking category. Because I didn't make some drinking money I'm sitting at home on a Friday night plucking my eyebrows and watching old reruns of Law and Order -- why that show was cancelled after two decades of crime fighting I'll never know. I guess I'll have to check out the new L.A. franchise. Back to my point... I worked 6 hours today and walked out with a whopping $35 minus the $15 I spent on a couple pints in the sun. 


While everyone else is out enjoying payday Friday, I'm at home drinking some old beer I found in the back my fridge, probably from last summer, called Gulden Draak. Tastes imported. 


Back to my original point: a party with coworkers. In the six or so months I've worked at (insert real name here) I've learned who I like to socialize with outside of work and who I don't. There are the duds. These are the people that are annoying, boring or just young pups that  I don't have anything in common with other than my place of employment. They rarely are able to hold their liquor and haven't read a book since the 10th grade. 


There are the party animals. These are the people who get blackout drunk and make asses of themselves. Sure they're good for a laugh but the sad thing is those of us not lifting up our shirts on the patio at wing night or trying to sleep with every dude we work with, are laughing at the party animals, not with them. More often than not a party animal will come into work after a night of ridiculous antics with their tail between their legs and avoid eye contact because he or she acted like a hot mess the night before.  


I like to spend my time with the chill crowd. These are the people that can hold a good conversation as well as their booze, like to have a chuckle and don't spend their time obsessing over the happenings of the restaurant. 


In my 26 years on this earth I've learned a thing or two. One being: never get drunk in front of people from work. Save your sloppy it for the nights with friends that have known you for years and will accept your shenanigans with open arms because you've done the same for them. 


We'll see what happens tomorrow. 

Day seven (cont'd).

This is the movie I saw:  





I had no idea that buddy who invented Napster had shares in Facebook. 

Day seven.

I love a good deal then again, who doesn't love a good deal? No one hates deals. That's like saying "I hate movies." Speaking of which, I used some of my hard earned tips today to hit up a good deal at the movies. (See what I did there?) 


The movie: The Social Network. The deal: University Combo.


Last school year Empire Theatre Grant Park, the best movie theatre in town, had a brilliant deal. Seven days a week your university/college student id got you admission, popcorn and a soda for the low low price of $9.99 taxes in.


This school year, the theatre upped the price to $11.99 PLUS tax. Really Empire Theatre Grant Park? True, it is still a good deal considering the price of admission is 10 clams to begin with and the popcorn and soda was less than $4 but the whole allure of the University Combo was all the free stuff: food AND beverage.


My very first job was at a movie theatre -- Silver City Polo Park (really uncomfortable seats). I worked at the concession stand shucking out bags and bags of overpriced popcorn and Pepsi products. Did you know that movie theatres make little to no money on ticket sales? The revenue comes from the concession, or the Pizza Hut or Starbucks or Mercedes dealership kiosks movie goers drop loads of cash at before settling in for their two hours of entertainment. Feel free to share this fun fact with anyone you like.


I probably didn't need to get popcorn and a drink seeing as how I had already eaten dinner: perogies I got on sale at Safeway after my shift today. Even after the combo inflation I got it basically for the feeling only a good deal can give you. It's the same reason I have a freezer full of perogies. Sure I could have just bought one bag but they were on 2 for $5, regular $3.99. That's only an extra dollar for an extra bag it just makes sense.


I suppose all that really matters is that I saw a pretty good movie with some pretty good friends and ate so much popcorn that I now have a popcorn food baby and I feel like yaking. 


Total hours worked: 3.56
Tips earned: $41
Tips spent: $24.67 on groceries, $12.37 on entertainment 

Day five.

Sunday night and again tonight I am not serving but rather working in the kitchen as an expediter or an expo. An expo is basically the person who makes sure there is a lemon wedge on your fish or a sprinkle of cilantro on your salad. He or she is the go-between of the kitchen and the front of house. Sure, not all restaurants have an expo but for the ones that do the job is all the same. Get the right right food out to the right tables so that it looks good and it's hot. 

Sunday night I somehow defied the laws of physics when I was wiping off a plate to be sent out. The plate broke I saved the steak but when anything glass breaks around food it means the grub must be chucked. No one wants to run the risk of a bloody massacre. Picture a tiny bit of broken glass stuck in the food then tearing apart the diner's esophagus to that of ground beef. A highly unlikely scenario but you never know. In a circumstance like this, dropping food on the ground or breaking a plate, the kitchen has to remake the dish and sometimes the whole table. Almost always the server whose table has now been delayed gets pissed off and that generally effects how much I get tipped out at the end of the night. She was okay with the remake since her table really appreciated us not sending out a glass shard steak. 

I think that it was later on I told her to "shut up and get out of the kitchen if all you're gonna do is stand there and get in my way" that, let's call her Dumb-dumb, decided not to tip me out. Dumb-dumb is a prime example of what not to do as a server. I will get to some of her greater performances one of these days. 

I don't mind working expo as a favour every now and then but the problem is that in doing so, I am losing money. A night working in the kitchen means I don't make any tips other that when I get tipped out by the servers at the end of the night and those tips are definitely lacking. Between the nine servers working that night I made $8 as opposed to the $40 or so I would have made on a slow Sunday night. 

I don't mind working the occasional expo shift since it is a welcome break from being out front. I get to wear jeans and a hat, joke around with the line cooks and yell at people. I think I should be making more money an hour if I work an expo shift to compensate for what I'm not making out front.  

So in the interest of keeping track of my tips here are Sunday night and yesterday's stats:


(Sunday)

• hours worked 3.38   
• tips earnerd $8.10

(Monday)

• total sales $147
• tips earned $21.50
• hours worked 1.98
• tip out $4.41

We'll see how I do today. 

Day two.

I went grocery shopping today before work. I wish I would have had enough foresight to bring my reusable shopping bags with me because then at least I'd only buy as much stuff as I could fit in my bags rather than the 8 bags of food I ended up with. 


That was the last time I ever go shopping without a list but with only a wallet full of cash. I spent $70 from the $120 I started the out with this morning. 


Today was nowhere near as busy at yesterday:

• total sales $29.30
• tips earned $6.00

I had to tip out the kitchen $1. 

I've only got an hour to kill because I offered to start my dinner shift early. I'm hoping that if I'm not going to make any money from tips today, I might as well get the hours in. Yesterday I hit overtime and a repeat is the goal tonight. Fortunately, servers in Manitoba, and all over Canada for that matter, make minimum wage. Yesterday, minimum wage in Manitoba went from $9/hr to $9.50/hr. Somedays, including my tips, I make $25/hr. 

I doubt this will be the case tonight. I can already hear the speculation as to why (insert real name here) isn't busy. "The Bomber game is on tonight at nine, I bet a lot of people are staying home to watch it." 

Yeah right. 

Winnipeg Blue Bomber fans who are staying in to watch the game are for sure not the reason (insert real name here) will be dead. (Insert real name here) will be slow tonight because there is no way I'm gonna make sweet, sweet cash two nights in a a row. It never happens but it would be powerful awesome if it did. 

Go Blue Go. 

****Update****

Bombers lost. Boo. 

Day One.

Today, I officially started living off of my tips. 


I worked a split shift. The lunch shift, which for some reason I call a morning shift, started at 11:30 and lasted until 3:15. Rarely do I work past 2 on a lunch shift. Longer shifts mean more tables and more tables means more money for me:

• total sales $466.32
• tips $61

The evening portion of my shift started at 4:00. 


Tonight was one of those nights that being at work was a lot of fun. I had no problems with my tables, guests laughed at my jokes and when food went out late, as it tends to do when (insert real name here) gets busy, my tables understood and didn't get upset. I think I was as Zen as I could be considering that I was at work. 


When a table is pleasant to serve it makes my job easier. 


A good section is pivotal in having a good night, too. In my opinion, good section is close to the windows and had both booths and regular tables. 


A section is the area of tables in the restaurant a server is assigned to wait on. 


Of course I forgot to write down my total sales and tips I made but my guess is about $700-$750 and $80. 


I decided that I'd go an meet a pal from work at my neighbourhood bar. In oder to not blow 60  bucks on booze, I'm taking $20 for a couple of beers and the rest goes in the savings jar. I don't understand why, until now, I've never only brought out some cash rather than all the cash I had. Maybe I'd have more to show for my summer of non-stop working if I had used this method earlier. 


Only bring out some cash is also nifty device to help me snap out of patio season mentality and put me back into reality. I can't sleep away my mornings because I was out having dinner or drinks or dinner and drinks with friends like I did in the summer. Now I have to limit myself and --gasp-- budget. 


Tonight, the sky's the limit... up to $20. 

Tips earned: $140

Tips spent: $20