Day seventy nine: it's not what you say, it's how you say it.

It still astounds me that some people who come into restaurants can act the way they do and treat their servers like they are second-class citizens.

Take for example one table I had this evening. It started out as a group of three. They informed me they were waiting on a fourth to show up and would wait 15 minutes until ordering. In the meantime they ordered a half litre of wine (2 glasses) and a diet Pepsi for the wait. 

Lo and behold these self-proclaimed seasoned wine drinkers informed me that there was something off about their wine and that it tasted awful. So I got them a different half-litre of a different wine -- no harm, no foul. There are two different kinds of people in this world: those who go to (insert real name here), drink one of four red wines and raise a stink about it and those who realize it's (insert real name here). As I've been implying throughout this blog, (insert real name here) is not a fine dining establishment and when the "house wine" is Carlo Rossi Red -- no specific variety indicated, you're probably no going to like it if you, like these people told me adamantly three times "know a lot about wine."

That's not what put me in a mood. 


What put me in a mood was while I was taking food to another table, the wine connoisseur decided to snap his fingers and yell out for me half way across the restaurant as if to let me know the joiner had arrived. 


He snapped his fingers and beckoned me over like a dog. 


Are you effing kidding me? 


Rule number one, if you need to get your server's attention, which was unnecessary because I saw the addition to the table when I walked by with hot plates in my hands en route to some hungry and more appreciative diners, DON'T SNAP YOUR FINGERS. 


I took comfort in the fact that when I dropped off the food the woman at the table looked at me and said "what an asshole" as if she was reading my mind. 


Situations like this happen all too often. I generally have a pretty thick skin and get over it pretty quickly. 


It's the times when people I work with treat me like a lesser person that really grinds my gears. A couple days ago it was the straw that broke the camel's back. One of the other servers snapped at me and while I would normally let it roll off me like water down a duck's back, I felt my eyes welling up. 


I had to give myself a time out and remember that it's (insert real name here). Who cares if someone is being a bitch? I'm not going to let it get the best of me but rather remember that it's not what you say, it's how you say it and continue to be pleasant to the people I work with. 


Now the trick is to do the same outside of work. 

Day fifty eight: sherry is alcohol enriched wine.

Brandy is distilled wine. Cognac is a type of brandy named for the region in France where it is made. Sherry is alcohol enriched wine. 


I don't have to know these things for my job(s). I have to know what kind of booze we keep in the bar and the seven, yes, seven bottles of wine we carry; three reds, three whites and a blush.    


I pseudo-helped a friend study for a wine test for work hence my new-found knowledge of fortified/distilled wine. Not only did he need to know what wines his restaurant carried but he needed to know the grape, the country and how to describe them. He needed to know the difference between brandy, cognac and sherry. He needed to know about port, catarattos and gewurztraminers. He needed to know more that I will ever have to at (insert real name here) or the New Shop. 


It took me about three minutes to memorize the wine list at (insert real name here) and about 15 seconds for the one at the New Shop: Naked Grape Shiraz and Naked Grape Sauvignon Blanc. Boom! Nailed it. 


Sure, if I had to, I could memorize all the stuff he did which was actually quite impressive, although I'd never say that to his face. 


When I was a kid my folks always had wine with dinner. I always found it weird going to a friend's house and see his or her parents drinking milk with their meal. 


I love wine. I am my mother's daughter in that regard I suppose and I am not above drinking it from a box. The best part about wine is that there is always something to learn about it, always a new bottle to try. I'm no sommelier but I can hold my own in a conversation about wine. 


I'm not as poetic in my love for it as say Virginia Madsen in the major motion picture Sideways but I know what I like. 



Wine. It's not just for breakfast anymore.