...apparently i have my head stuck up my ass.
i made the mistake of showing up early one sunny Sunday in August, and of course i was thrown several tables as soon as i walked in the door. One of the tables was out on the far reaches of the patio and the manager assured me that they had only just been sat. Now our patio runs the full length of the restaurant and has 7 tables, and there's only 1 door to access them, so to get to that 7th table you have to walk alllll the way down there, past all 6 of the other tables. Really, i want to emphasize what a looong walk this is. So i go out the door and start my hike to the last table and the people at it sit and stare at me all crazy the entire time i'm heading their way. It's a young-ish couple and a fat kid. I get there and do a short intro they have no interest in, and the man at the table tells me he wants the steak and eggs. The menu states that it comes with "up to 5 eggs". After saying "i want the steak and eggs" he sat there in dead silence so i had to prompt him with "how would you like your steak cooked?" and "do you want all 5 eggs with that?" "I only want 2 eggs, it'll be cheaper that way, right?" "No, i'm sorry, it's the same price whether you get all 5 eggs or not." "Well that's insane! 5 eggs is stupid! Who the hell can eat 5 eggs? It outta be cheaper!"
(ever get that sinking feeling?)
i pried the order out of the female half and Fat Kid, and went back inside to put the order in. Guy had wanted tabasco with his meal (it's not on the table) so i grabbed that along with anything else i could imagine them wanting and i treked back out with it. Again they STARED at me the entire time i walked to their table, even stopping talking to just stare, and i had to try to find things to look at on my way over so i wouldn't be staring back at them. RFA (really fucking awkward).
it was really busy inside the restaurant but i could keep an eye on my distant patio table through the windows. I watched Fat Kid hoover down his drink from afar so i trucked out with a refill. Yes, they STARED at me the entire time i walked over. Eventually i saw another server run their food out so i was obligated to go check on them. As soon as i walked out that door they stopped eating--and STARED. At this point i was running out of things to pretend to look at as i walked over, i had no other tables to interact with on the patio, just them. Me: "Everybody doin' all right here?" Guy: grunt. Me: "Okay" (in my fake cheery voice). Once i got back in i was heading for my normal tables when i happened to glance out the window, i saw Guy chug down his full glass of ice tea, get up, walk all the way over to the patio cart (that was by the door) and fill his glass from one of the covered pitchers sitting there. Whatever dude.
at this point the hostess showed up and i asked her to check on them for me since i was busy. She did, and reported back with "They're weird--i don't wat to go back." Great.
watching through the window i waited until it looked like the meal was winding down. Sighing to myself i headed out the patio door. Again they all stopped what they were doing to stare at me THE ENTIRE WAY. I arrived at the table, bussed some plates, and offered dessert. "We're thinking about it" Guy responded. "Okay, well i'll give you a moment to think it over, the pie list is right here on the table, i'll be right back!" Sadly i headed back in without dropping off the ticket because they were considering dessert.
next thing i knew the manager was by my side, telling me that my patio table had come inside and wanted to pay--NOW. This was barely a minute or two after i left them, allegedly thinking about dessert. I found Guy huffily standing by the door and he wordlessly thrust his credit card at me. I ran it and brought it back to him and he said, and i quote: "I know it's busy in here and all, but everytime we sit on the patio we NEVER get the attention we deserve. It's just not right." To which i replied "And i'm sorry you feel that way", which is my polite version of "what the fuck ever". Later that night the manager told me that when he came inside wanting to pay he told her what a horrible server i am and that i had my head stuck up my ass. I have yet to figure out what i did wrong (other than come to work early), and the kicker is that he still tipped 15%. Da fuck??
in more positive news: last night we were insanely busy, and as i walked past the cookline i heard one cook yell to another "I need 4 metric buttloads of..." I didn't hear what this was in reference to but i know gold when i hear it, and i scribbled it down on the notecard i keep in my server book with off menu prices on it. I will henceforth be using this term regularly, as in "Jesus Christ! That bitch at table 32 is using 4 metric buttloads of ranch on her salad!"
Et tu, Brute?
2 weeks ago