Michelle's Monumental Moments of 2012

I might not be a full time waitress anymore (that in itself is very monumental to me), but I don't know what my next blog is going to be yet so I'm just posting this here.

New Year's resolution=get this blog back on track!

Anyways, here's my recap of the year.

 

Michelle’s Monumental Moments of 2012

1. Ringing in the new year in downtown Orlando- the streets were blocked off, making room for partiers. There was confetti, flashing lights, and loudness. Lots of my good friends were out that night. And it was warm, so we got to wear flashy dresses.

2. Visiting Brett and Connor in Kansas City- I got to see some good friends while visiting a new city. We ate good food, and I had my first celebrity spotting; Curtis Stone. Very memorable.

3. I got my first tattoo! In April, I got a tattoo of a cupcake on my hip. It was very painful, but completely worth it. I am forever branded by my love for sweets.

4. Romantic Disney date- In May I went on a double date and the guys both worked at Disney. They set up reservations at the Polynesian (I think??) Resort for a table outlooking the Magic Kingdom’s fireworks. The fireworks music played in the restaurant. To me, it was very magical. The food was incredible. We drank alcohol out of pineapples. Again, I got to wear a flashy dress.

5. Birthday in Three States- My birthday was drawn out this year, which was awesome. It started in Florida, with amazing dinner (and dessert, and a flashy dress) at TuTu Tango, then dancing and shots at Howl at the Moon. I got to go home and celebrate again in Illinois with my family and friends at Teke’s. Then I celebrated in Iowa with my friend Tyler, reminiscing at Old Chicago and following up with Whitey’s ice cream. And beer. Bitchin’ birthday week.

6. E’s Bachelorette Party in Chicago- Any visit to Howl at the Moon is going to make the list of great moments. This was no exception. Especially since I got pulled up on stage to “wiggle” for “I’m Sexy and I know it.” Unfortunately, that was recorded. Good food, good fun, GREAT friends. That was a fun weekend indeed.

7. Trip to Clearwater- My friends Wilbie and Kerri took me on an amazing goodbye mini vacation to Clearwater Beach the week before I left Florida. We did so much that day: met up with Alex Gary who we all love, ate lunch by the beach, went to an awesome dive bar where we wrote our names on the wall, went on a pirate ship cruise, and ended the night with music on the beach. In the course of the day I had over ten daquiris. My friends were so good to me.

8. Making the Move- moving back home in August was a hard decision that I struggled with at first. Ultimately it was the right thing to do, and it proved to be the best thing for me. It took leaving Streator to realize how good I have it here.

9. E and B’s wedding- Dancing. Drinking. Dancing. Drinking. Dancing. Eating pizza. I don’t remember much else, but I know it was a darn good time.

10. The Life of Holly- In October, we had to put down my first dog, Holly, who would have been 16 at the end of the month. She was the sweetest dog and I miss her every day.

11. Big Girl Job- I got hired at The Times in October. A year and a half after graduating and I finally got a job that makes my degree feel worth it, that pays me for doing what I love--writing.

12. Open!- We still have 6 days left of 2012, and I’m hoping fate will throw me one more monumental moment before the new year.

But if not, Christmas was definitely monumental. Being home for the holidays was the best gift I could ask for.


Overall, 2012 was a year for adventure, change, loss, and opportunity. After dancing on bars and throwing up tequila over my balcony in Orlando, I grew up a lot! Now I can dance on bars while holding my liquor. Impressive, I know. Bring it on, 2013!



Moments for honorable mention:

• first NBA game, Magic vs...I don't remember, but it was fun
• working Mardi Gras at Universal Studios
• Kelsea's visit to Orlando, no details need to be mentioned!
• made my first turkey for Thanksgiving
• Kayla and Michelle's Christmas baking extravaganza
• Christmas caroling for Teke's

Igotstiffed.com

You know work is good when I have nothing nasty to blog about. That's probably because I only waitress one or two nights a week now, thank goodness! But I have to keep this going, so I found this great clip of a comedian talking about being a server. It's hilarious, and every server can probably relate to at least one of his jokes. A lot of the jokes he makes takes me back to Uno's in Florida; my Uno friends will know exactly why! Enjoy, and fair warning that there are a whole bunch of F-bombs that I would never write in my blog. :)
 
http://www.igotstiffed.com/1400/stand-up-comic-brett-ernst-on-waiting-tables/


And a special shout out to the best table I have ever waited on, (you know who you are!). It's the best of both of my worlds when people in Streator pay with a Disney credit card.

Thanks for checking it out.

Love,
Princess

From Corporate to Country

Hi friends!

It serves me right that after talking all this crap about working for corporate restaurants, I would come to miss it. In the grand scheme of things, working for family-owned restaurants is much more fun and relaxed. But I've come to realize that I, Princess Michelle, am a corporate snob.

I worked at two different family-owned bar/restaurants here in Streator last weekend. Adapting to the way they run things was a bit of a challenge for me, coming from the world of chain restaurants. It's basic waitressing--writing down the order, handing it to the cook, and running the food when they ding the bell. It sounds simple, but it's like going back to grade school after finishing college. I wouldn't know what the heck to do with fractions and decimals now.

For starters, the cooks have to rely on my handwriting to get my orders right as there are no computers and printers in a good ol' country kitchen. That's scary. I'm used to scribbling and hoping that I understand the order by the time I get to the computer to ring it in.

I ask someone if they need a refill and they hand me their glass; I'm the snob that makes it harder for myself and says "Oh, no, I'll bring you a new glass of iced tea." Not saying names, (Kathy Giraldo!) but my old managers would swat me if I refilled the glass the guest already drank out of.

The other waitresses ask me why I constantly have a tray in my hand, while they're juggling plates of food up their arms. A tray is like a server's purse; you never let it out of your sight. I guess the time has come to part with the tray.

While I love how laid back the country scene is, I miss some of the perfection about corporate restaurants. (That's a bit of an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.) You type your order in the computer under the right table number, it goes back to the kitchen,  it prints your check. No questions or worries; your food will be up in about fifteen minutes.

One of the places I worked at this weekend (not Teke's, I love Teke's!) didn't even have table numbers. No one else could run your food because they didn't know where it was going. Somehow, the high school girls running the kitchen lost one of my tickets and didn't make a table's order. (Downside to blogging in Streator: someone reading this blog will know these girls and they will want to "kick my ass.") On the plus side, this wasn't nearly as big a deal as it would have been at a chain restaurant. The customers here are so nice, they didn't care that it took an hour for their food and still tipped well.

I guess I have to relearn waitressing the more simple way, and that means learning as I go. It sounds much less painful than taking tests and watching videos on how to do it the corporate way.


Thanks for reading!
Love,
      Princess M

Short-lived Retirement

Good thing I didn't say never, right?

So, my fun little time in Orlando came to an end and I'm back in Streator, hoping to really get my career going as a writer and reconnecting with family and friends. The only problem is that I have no idea how I'm going to make money as a writer or what kind of writer I want to be. Until I figure that out, I have to get all the jobs I can find that my four-year college degree has nothing to do with. But I'm not bitter about it. :-)

Upon quitting the restaurant in Orlando, I said I would pump gasoline for minimum wage before I wait another table. It's so hard to resist, though, when serving is something that comes easy to me and is such good money. I was offered two serving/bartending jobs within the first week of moving back home. Poor, bored, and quite thankful that people wanted to help me get a job, I jumped on both opportunities. Taking another job as a waitress doesn't make me feel as awful as I thought, since I had said I'd never go back. I'm actually looking forward to it. I'll be working for some good friends, who I am so thankful to for helping me out. Being a waitress at a bar and a golf course in Streator, Illinois is going to be so very different than serving for big corporate restaurants.

Things I'm looking forward to in a family-owned business vs. the corporate restaurant:

• wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt as a uniform
• not studying for menu tests (seriously have taken more menu tests than college tests)
• wearing NAIL POLISH of any bright and obnoxious color
• not writing my name on a freaking napkin at each table
• not wearing tall black socks
• no long, goofy apron
• knowing the majority of the people I wait on
• I'm guessing that the rate of guests who speak Portuguese will be much lower, or nonexistent

and last but not least, taking shots with guests. Hell. Yes.

Retired Waitress

After seven years of serving, I'm throwing in my apron. Last night was, I desperately hope, my last night ever waiting tables. To say the least, it was an epic final serving shift.

First of all, my friend Jessica brought me a big pink Princess pin to wear. Awesome.

I had a hit-or-miss section, and last night it was a hit. I had two fairly easy parties that I was able to grat. It was easy money, but I still managed to pull some silly waitress moments. The second party was a group of eighteen, celebrating a couple who just got married over the weekend. They were pushy and wanted everything to be just perfect. Naturally, I forgot to put in the groom's order...oops! I had to figure I would screw something up on my last table. This party was a bunch of finger-snappers too, who thought they deserved some kind of royal treatment. They were a great send-off for me.

Since the money was too easy, the restaurant had to do something to give me grief on my last shift. It just so happened to be a night before we bombed the restaurant for bugs, so we all had about an hour of extra cleaning to do. They wouldn't let me get out too easily.

After wiping windows and polishing one last rack of silverware, I triumphantly threw my apron away. As happy as I was to serve my last pizza, I was very sad to leave this restaurant. Since I didn't have family or friends here in Florida, this restaurant easily became a second home to me. The employees and managers became my Florida family. It became a place I could come cry to for help, which I did many times. It is a place that has given me lots of love and support, and I will truly miss it.

Serving is a job that I think everyone needs to experience. I've learned a lot from the different restaurants I've worked at. I've met many of my closest friends through this industry and I have incredible memories with these people. Serving is great money most of the time. I enjoyed it through high school and college, but since I've gotten my degree I just can't stand waiting tables and not getting any further with my writing career. This job is not for me anymore.

I've taken a vow to never wait tables again, but of course you can never really say never. My dream is to see my name on the cover of a book before I ever see it printed on another server check. And I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. I have to think of getting a book published like serving tables: no matter how hard or unbearable the table seems, you have to stick with it to the end. You might get a bad tip, but you have to keep going and take the next table. If it's not everything you hoped at the end of the night, at least you tried your hardest and never walked out.

Sometimes Your Waitress is Just Dumb...

I think my karma has come back to bite me. After all these posts of how terrible some people are in the restaurant, I think I have become the waitress an angry customer would blog about.

I only have one week left at the restaurant I'm at now, so my mind certainly hasn't been very focused at work. Unfortunately, the clumsy waitress in me has been coming out more than ever.

Sometimes I'll have those moments when a table is about to leave, and I remember that I forgot to bring them barbecue sauce or something silly that they asked for at the beginning. I'll feel bad because they were nice enough not to nag me about it, but I feel stupid for having forgotten about it until they're getting ready to leave. Sometimes I'll screw myself over and give my table too much change, because I can't count. Sometimes I'll forget their salad. These are just little things that don't happen all the time, but can really make a server feel silly.

My dumbest serving moment happened last week. I was taking a table's order, and was engaged in some conversation with the mother at the table because everyone was taking a while to order. The man told me he'd like the baked haddock, so I asked which two sides he would like with that. He took another minute to look over the menu, so I began talking with the woman again about some cookbook she was selling or something. A minute later, the man blurted out that he wanted fries and a salad. Somehow, the baked haddock order had been erased from my mind and I hadn't written it out. So I said, "You just want fries and a salad?" He nodded, thinking he was getting two sides with his baked haddock.

I put his order in as a side of fries and a side salad. You can see where this is going...

I brought it all out, and asked if they needed anything else. The man said, "I assume my haddock is on its way?"

It didn't register with me at all. "I'm sorry, you didn't order haddock. You just asked for the fries and salad." It took another minute or so for this to finally click in my head. Wow! I have never felt so stupid.

When I told my manager and a few other servers what I did, they applauded me, saying they had never seen anything so stupid. Congratulations to me!

How to Piss Off Your Server

This is a list of annoying things guests do on a daily basis. If you would like to receive good service, avoid these horrible habits.

Don't...

• ask for a Coke when the server just said that they carry Pepsi products.
• complain about being cold. Restaurants generally have air conditioning.
• make demands. Ask nicely.
• snap your fingers at a server.
• chug your first beverage before the server is finished taking the order. Then we just know we're going to be refilling your glass every thirty seconds.
• let your kids run wild.
• let your kids make a mess, and leave it for your server to clean up.
• ask us for something when our hands are full of plates, drinks, etc.
• ask us for something when we're at another table.
• ask us to list the side dishes for one person, then ask us to repeat them because you weren't listening.
• blame the server for your food tasting funny.
• act like you're the only table in the restaurant.
• order soups, salads, or wraps after 10pm. We end up making a huge mess while we're trying to clean up and close.
• come in at ten minutes until close and think you will get good service.
• ask to have your tea sweeter, then complain that it's too sweet.
• seat yourselves, just don't do it.
• ask to be moved to a different table unless there is a REALLY good and obvious reason.
• ask for something different every time the server comes by. Ask for whatever you will need all at once, or else you will get some serious eye-rolling.
• ask if you can get anything for free. It's not as funny as you think it is.
• eat more than half your meal, then say you didn't like it and would like it comped off your check.
• sit for hours, and tip as if you weren't taking up one of the server's tables.
• say you're ready to order, then stare at the menu for five minutes saying "ummmm...."
• remain silent when we kindly greet your table and say, "Hi, how are you today." Rudest. Thing. Ever.

I could go on and on, but I think I've proven my point. These are just the little things that really get to me as a server. After seven years of waiting tables, it's still hard not to let these little habits get under my skin. Unfortunately, my patience level gets lower every time one of these things happens.

Sooner or later, I will snap.

And it will be ugly.

A Night of Unfortunate Events

The worst thing about a serving job is the inconsistency. Everything can go smoothly one night, the nxt night I might be tempted to go on a murder spree. That's how this week has been for me, with Tuesday night being exceptionally terrible.

Our restaurant has been slow lately, so I was happy to get a party of eight around 10pm. On parties of eight or more, we're allowed to add 18% gratuity to their check. I took their order happily, knowing I was guaranteed at least a $30 tip from them. They're eating their chicken wing appetizers and everyone is happy. All of a sudden, a huge cockroach starts crawling around their table. Crap....

The table moved to another section and was transferred over to another server. Bye bye $30 tip.

Then, I'm sat with a party of seven teenagers. Being sat with a party of seven is like being punched in the face. We recount each person over and over, hoping one of them has multiplied so that there are eight people and we can add gratuity. Is one lady pregnant? Cause that has to count for two people! The baby sleeping in the high chair who won't be eating, he definitely counts as an eighth person.

I wasn't that lucky. It was just seven spoiled-brat teenagers. These kids, who were trying to get free stuff from me, ordered as though they were rolling in the dough. They wanted to add shrimp to this, steak to that. Chicken wings, desserts, you name it.

Most teenagers who come in groups are rude and disrespectful. I hope to God that they have to wait tables at some point in their lives; they have it coming for them. I tell them their wings are taking a little longer and I'll bring them out when they're ready. "Does that mean they're free?" Hell no, they're not free! They ask for to-go boxes, and one demands that I give him a box of bread to take home. I reply ever so kindly, "This isn't Olive Garden. You'll be paying for that."

They ask for their free refills every two minutes and run me to the ground. It sucks, knowing these teenagers aren't going to tip me and yet I am under their mercy.

Then of course, after they're half-way done with their pastas, three of them claim their broccoli is too tough and would like to order something different. We had to give them three new free pastas. Brats.

I split all their checks, which are a combined total of over $100. They each give me exact change with no tip. Except for the bread-guy, he shorts me a dollar and I certainly let him know it.

They all received the stink eye from me until they left, and may have heard a few immature comments from me to other servers. Oh well.

After that night of losing what should have been $50 in tips, and most of my self-respect, I couldn't bare the thought of going in the next day and doing it all over again. But I went, had three parties with over eight people and couldn't have asked for a better night.

As servers, we probably all come off having multiple personalities: crazy and pissed off one night and happy and blissful the next. Friends, please don't blame us. Restaurants have made us this way.

Finger Snappers

When normal people go out to dinner, they know how to act. They take advantage of the fact that they're being waited on and can ask for whatever they want, but they also understand that their server is another human being. They are polite and they treat their servers with respect.

If only every guest were like that.

There is a whole other breed out there who act as if they are in Mom's kitchen. I'm still working on a specific term for this group of people, but I usually just refer to them as "rude," "rotten," or "spoiled." The sad thing is it's not just the kids. Their parents are just as rude.

Last night I had a table of seven, who only spoke Spanish, come in around 1am. A girl asked for an apple soda (is that a real thing in any country?), and I told her we had apple juice, not apple soda.
"No, no, I want apple soda."
Again, "I'm sorry we do not have that."
"I don't want apple juice."
"Then, what would you like?"
"Apple soda!"
As kindly as I can, "WE DON'T HAVE APPLE SODA!"

Then her dad chimes in, "She would like apple soda, not apple juice."

Are you freaking kidding me? This is just the start.

I settle the apple juice/soda duel with apple juice over ice. The little girl is ecstatic about it. I get their order in and go about my end-of-the-night cleaning. Only ten minutes go by, and the dad, in his annoying bright pink shirt, snaps his fingers at me. "Miss, come here!"

"Yes, sir?"
He looks at me, confused, and points to his belly, and expects me to figure out what he's thinking. When I continue to give him a stupid look, he says, "I'm hungry! Where's my food?"

Really? It has been ten minutes, your eight-year-old children aren't whining about anything even though you're forcing them to wait for dinner when they should be sleeping. There's a McDonalds across the parking lot if you can't wait more than ten minutes for your well-done steak. But let me go check on your darn food.

After I've brought the food, he must have snapped his fingers at me five more times to bring him random condiments. I don't understand how people can think they can be rude and bossy to a complete stranger. I would hope people aren't like that with their own mother's at home-cooked meals. What makes them think they can snap their fingers and get what they want? Service is just how it is, the guest is paying me to serve them food.

But there is still a line of respect and politeness that should be followed, or I think I have every right to accidentally spill your "apple soda" on you.

Learning to Read

One notion we have come to understand in the restaurant is that our guests don't know how to read. I'm not trying to be mean, I know people can generally read. When it comes to reading a menu, however, it's a different story. It's one of our guilty pleasures; watching the guest get upset about what's in their food because they didn't take the time to read the description. Those two fragments underneath the menu item, describing what the item entails, may as well be extra room for their kids to draw on, because it's clearly just too much to read. Their lack of reading these two fragments almost always ends up in a complaint. As the server, we need to tell them what's in the meal they're ordering as often as we can.

Of course there are those random times when we just don't feel like explaining it or don't have the time, and it always pisses them off. "I didn't know the burger came with sauce on it." "What's this green stuff on my pizza?" "You didn't tell me this came with spicy cheddar." Well, if you would have taken about ten seconds to read about what you were ordering, we wouldn't be having any problems. But they act like we intentionally put ingredients in their entree just to spite them. Trust me, if we knew what they didn't like we probably would do that. But how do we know what they like and don't like? That's why the menu tells them what is in their food.

My favorite complaint happened last night when a woman ordered a drink off the page titled in big bold letters, "Cocktails." I came back a few minutes later and she says, "This drink is not what I wanted. Does it have alcohol in it?" Yesssss, hence the word "cocktails." "Oh, I didn't know that. Just bring me a Pepsi." I do my best to describe the ingredients every time, but do I really need to let a grown woman know that there is alcohol in a long island?

We all do it. I know I've skimmed over the ingredients before and got an entree that wasn't quite what I expected. But I don't blame my server for that and make her go out of her way to fix my mistake.

Rule of common courtesy: Own that you made the mistake, not the server, and eat your damn food. It never hurts to try something different. (Unless you're allergic, then bitch about it all you want!)

Any other servers have guests who can't read? Leave a comment :)

That One Bitchy Table

Many servers have come across that one table who just wants to bitch about everything. It's just the guest's personality. There's nothing we can really do about it but let it happen. Last night I had the lady from Waiting, the one who just picks on her waitress for fun and complains about everything while her friends sit there looking embarassed.

I greet the table of three middle-aged ladies, and tell them about our 2-for-1 margarita special. "Bitchy Lady" immediately told the other two ladies, "Oh we have to do that!" I'm thinking this will be a fun table. I was quite wrong.

Bitchy Lady and one of her friends order the 2-for-1 margaritas. Bitchy Lady asks for hers on the rocks, while her friend asks for frozen. The friend asks for salt, Bitchy Lady just nods her head and keeps talking. Off I go to fetch margaritas.

I bring the four margaritas to the table, (hence 2-for-1), and Bitchy Lady says they wanted to split the special between the two of them. I apologize. The friend says it's not a problem at all they will drink them. They didn't make a big deal of it. Bitchy Lady tastes hers and says "Uggghh! This tastes like a pina colada. That isn't a margarita. And that one has salt n it. I won't drink that." They both had salt on them, but it didn't stop her from drinking out of the first one.

Me: "I'm sorry, I misheard you. I thought you both wanted salt. I'll go get two new margaritas for you."

I bring her two new margaritas, and make sure they taste like freaking margaritas. Now it's time to order food. Between the three ladies they ordered two side salads and two thin crust pizzas. This is where it really gets fun.

Bitchy Lady made sure to tell me to bring an extra plate with their salads since they would be sharing. Then, one of the thin crust pizzas she ordered automatically comes on a five-grain crust. She said to make it traditional because she's allergic to sesame or something. The first thing I did was bring three plates to the table. I pointed it out when I brought them, "Here are extra plates for you." Bitchy Lady was on the phone and must have not seen. I brought the two salads out and again said, "Here are those extra plates." Bitchy Lady was still on the phone. Apparently, the radiowaves went to her head because she did not see the bright yellow plates in front of her and tracked down another server to get her a plate, because "Michelle forgot."

Next, their pizza, which I typed in "make traditional crust," came out on a five-grain crust. They hollered at me and I told them I'd get my manager to clarify if it was a five-grain crust.

I can understand why Bitchy Lady would be upset about that. She doesn't want to puff out and swell up and all that crap, but this was not my doing. This was her opening, however, to bitch and bitch and bitch.

She told my manager, "Michelle has got nothing right on our table. She brought us four margaritas, she brought us the wrong margaritas, I asked her for an extra plate and she never got me one," (PLEASE!!!!). "And now she got our pizza wrong." My manager explained to Bitchy Lady that the pizza was not my fault, the kitchen messed up and it was out of my hands. Bitchy Lady insisted back to her that it was my fault because I got everything else wrong. (Not to mention that a margarita tasting like a pina colada was not my fault either, or anybody's.)

Luckily, my manager realized that this was Bitchy Lady and that I was not being a bad server. She said to just finish them out and try to be nice. This is when I really wish I was allowed to speak my mind, because I think I would have actually stood up for myself. But, the damn guest is always right. So I did the mature thing- gave them the stink eye, refilled everyone's water except for Bitchy Lady, and gave them the check. The $2 tip in quarters was the cherry on top of a fantastic bitchy table.

Tourists vs. Carnies

Serving in Orlando is surprisingly similar to serving in Streator, Illinois. Honestly, the restaurant I work at here is no more busy than my restaurant back home. Certain events bring in customers. For Orlando, it's that little place called Disney World. Back in Streator, it was that week when the carnival was in town. However, the customers brought in by both of these spectacular things are quite undesirable.

When I was a waitress at my beloved Pizza Hut, I remember dreading the week the carnival was in town. Yes, I'd be insanely busy. That didn't necessarily mean more money when the majority of my customers were carnival workers. They would come in packs with mud-stained skin, ratty T-shirts and jeans, smelling like cigarettes and sweat. They chugged free refills of Mountain Dew as if it were a competition. After enduring all their creepiness and hillbilly talk, I'd be lucky to receive a $2 tip. Luckily, this was only one week out of the year.

Here in Orlando, we deal with carnie equivalents every day of the year--tourists. Yes, most of our business comes from foreigners. That doesnt mean we don't dread the tables who don't speak a lick of English. They run you back and forth, as if they are the only table in the restaurant. At least their orange juices aren't free refills, but they still don't tip. They'll spend the whole time bothering you for stuff, racking up their bill, and either stiff you or leave less than 10%.

Tourists are like the carnies in a small town. They come in for a week at a time, get the most out of you and leave the least. I think it's time to indict the automatic carnie/tourist gratuity act.

Another Week in Paradise

The bartender asks me to deliver a drink to another server's table. I do so, not knowing what I'm walking into, just helping out and delivering a drink. I bring the vodka tonic to the table, which is a party of six. Everyone at the table has their food except for the lady who ordered the drink. "Vodka tonic?" I ask her, and she locks eyes with me and says, in a very snotty way, "Well my food would be nice."

Did she really just say that to me? I haven't been by this table once tonight, so what makes her think I'm the one responsible for her food missing? There are dozens of peope working right now to serve over a hundred other people. Does she expect every server on staff to only cater to her needs? Rude.

Of the many pet peeves I have as a server, the worst is when guests flag down any worker in sight to get them something as ridiculous as an extra lemon or to yell at them about what's taking their food so long. We keep tabs on our own tables. Ask us to find your server for you, and we'd be happy to. It's not that we're being lazy and don't want to get you something, we just want you to be considerate that we have tables of our own. You're not the only guest in the restaurant who needs something.


The next day started off with yet another bang. The first table of the shift can make or break the rest of the night. I start the night with a party of five and everything is going smoothly. They have just gotten their food and are eating happily. Then, a kid throws up at another server's table close to mine. The men at my table are freaking out. They come to our sidestand, which is a sacred closed-off spot for servers only, and start yelling at me. "We can't eat our food and we're so grossed out we don't even want to take it to go. So I don't know how you're going to take care of the bill, but we're out."

Oh, is that how it works?

I go tell my manager about these little girls who can't stomach their food (when their actual little girls are still eating at their table as if nothing happened), and she goes to deal with them. She explains it's not our fault that a kid got sick at another table, that she'd be happy to make them a new pizza to go but she can't take care of their check. As eager as these guys were to leave, they're not leaving until she comps their check for them. By this time, the busser has cleaned up the small mess at the other table and the women with my party are still eating. The men insist they're too grossed out to eat and won't even take the new pizza to go. My manager eventually took 50% off just to get them out of her face.

I don't understand why people go out to eat and go through all the trouble of complaining to get free stuff. If that's how you want it then go to McDonald's. Don't go to a nice restaurant and treat your servers with disrespect. Especially the lady with the vodka tonic. She wasn't only snotty with me, but of course with her server and our manager and probably anyone else walking by. Pissing off that many people who make your food is not a good idea. It's that simple.