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.