The other day I was cashing people out, seating the door, and getting used to the station breakdown when the phone rang. As was my duty as hostess, I answered it. This is how the conversation went, exactly.
Me: Thanks for calling The Restaurant on Main Street, this is Rose, can I help you?
Her: (deep, gritty southern accent) Yeah, are ya'all free today?
Me: Pardon me?
Her: I said are ya'all free today?
Me: Excuse me ma'am, I'm not sure I heard you correctly, there's a lot of noise in here. Did you just ask me if we were free today?
Her: (impatiently) Yes I did. Do kids eat free?
(Kids do eat free on certain nights of the week, so now her call makes a little more sense to me.)
Me: Yes ma'am, there are certain nights of the week that kids do eat for free, but it's after 4 PM.
Her: Ok, thanks.
I chuckled to myself as I hung up the phone. Why not just answer the question in the way that you mean it the first time? Am I supposed to be magical and know exactly what you mean? Come on now. What would possess someone to call a restaurant and just vaguely ask if they were "free" that day?
Also, as part of hostessing, I am the last person the customer sees before they walk out the door. Being that this is a typical, corporate, ass kissing restaurant, I have to ask the customer if everything was all right as they pay their bill and leave. Most of the time, the servers take care of this but you know how sometimes it just doesn't work out that way. 90 percent of customers are happy, and most of the remaining few who have problems usually get them fixed by their server, but there are a few that slide through to the cashier and then it becomes their problem. In this case, it was my problem.
This little old lady came up to pay her bill. I asked her, while I was taking her money, if everything was all right. "No," she snapped, "it wasn't. I came here a year ago, and the hash browns were burnt to a crisp and everything was cold. I waited a year to come back here, and now it will be a year before I'm back."
Immediately I apologized. "I'm sorry about that, ma'am. Did you get a chance to tell your server about the problems you had with your food?" Immediately after I ask, I turn around to see what her server, Annie, was doing. She was busy dropping off drinks at another table, but I happened to glimpse at the table this lady had been sitting at. Her plate was still on the table, since Annie had a full section and hadn't gotten around to bussing it yet. And wouldn't you know it, all the food was gone except for one slice of toast.
One of the managers happened to be standing there with me, and he ended up completely comping her entire bill. When she walked out, without even so much as a thank you, he shook his head, and I asked, "Why did you do that? She ate all her food, and I somehow doubt she even said anything to Annie." He just shook his head again and said, "She just wanted her food for free, and my hands are tied." Evidently, these managers are so fucking scared of a corporate office getting a call from some customer who tried to run a scam and didn't succeed that they are running around comping shit all day for people who make the smallest complaints. That sucks. Why don't they just cut off the manager's balls so he can wear them on his chin all day? It would make things go a lot faster. Remind me not to get into management, at least not in a corporate store. I don't mind kissing ass for tips, but I don't think I could live in fear for my job. I've already done that.
So, anyway, one day while I was actually learning to serve, my trainer got sat and she asked me to grab them a high chair (they had an baby with them) and to get their drink orders. I walked up to the table, greeted them warmly and introduced myself, and got their drink orders. The woman was very bitchy, barking orders at everyone. "Is the orange juice fresh? Last time I was here it wasn't. Oh, and bring me some crackers for the baby. I need lemon in my water. Junior! Give me that menu, you don't know what you're doing." Very bitchy, indeed. I gave the drink orders to my trainer, and then got the high chair out. As I sat it down next to the table, she snatched it out of my hands and barked, "Does this even work?" I politely replied, "Yes it does, ma'am," and walked away. Some people are not going to be friendly, no matter what you do. It's just a fact of life.
And finally, the most interesting thing that happened to me happened on Easter, and it was one of my tables. It was a two top, just a man and a woman who appeared to be involved in a lengthy discussion. I don't like interrupting these types of people, but I had to take their order, so I gently broke in and said, "Are you guys ready to order or do you need a few minutes?" The woman said pleasantly, "Oh we're ready. I'll have two scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He'll have the same." I said, "Okay," and glanced over at the man to make sure this was all right. He was looking at the woman with impatience, and he said, "Don't order for me. Order for yourself. Don't worry about what I'M going to eat." She said nothing and looked at the table. I paused, feeling very uncomfortable, with my pen poised over my book. He then sighed dramatically, closed his eyes as if she were really trying his patience, and said, "I'll have two scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. I'll also have a bowl of grits." He said this last part while looking right at her, as if he were making a point. I beat a hasty retreat to the computer to put their ticket in, all the while thinking to myself, Wow. Just like...wow. I didn't bother them at all while their food was being cooked, and when it was ready I dropped it off quickly and asked them if they needed anything else at the moment. He asked for another drink, rather pleasantly, so I quickly ran and got it. To my surprise, when I returned, I found them praying over their food. I just sighed to myself and thought, The southern baptist mentality strikes again. I'm used to this, living where I live.
So there are the highlights of my work days so far. Luckily, a lot of the people that come into my restaurant for breakfast are regulars, and while they may not tip fantastically, they're still low maintenance and a pleasure to work with. That kind of makes up for the subpar tips. (I hear you, Raging Server, about the standard $2 tip. I get a lot of those, especially from the older crowd.) Luckily, we don't have to share our tips, but if we did, I would probably be a little bit more irritated with them.
So tomorrow starts a whole new week for me. I am ready to go back to work. I can't believe I've had five days off in a row. I hope that doesn't happen again. I am looking forward to tomorrow. That's why I like serving so much...every day is a new day, a new opportunity to make money, and if it doesn't pan out there's always the next day. So far, I am really liking my job. I can't wait to have more stories.
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