Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Old School Meets New School


 I started waiting tables after college at Red Lobster in 1980. We were called waitresses then and wore poorly polished white shoes from the cheapest store we could find. And don't even get me started on that blue polyester sailor suit dress. But it was a good start and training was actually pretty rigorous. Over my forty plus year career I worked for nine different places, always advancing for the better. Red Lobster, Steak & Ale, WD Crowley's Scotch House, U Zoo (not my finest moment), Johnny's, LongHorn, Mama Lucia's, Ecco and finally Chroma.

I was so bummed out today about the election results. A convicted felon as president? It just made no sense to me. My daughter got home from work early, around one thirty and rescued me from my dazed and confused state of depression. 

We got in the car and drove to our favorite Mexican place and ordered two big margaritas. We had appetizers and ate a meal, all the while being served by one of the sweetest, most attentive and engaging servers I've had in quite some time. Shout out to Valerie!! You earned every penny of your handsome tip. I left wishing I had left you even more.

She was the epitome of a good server. Engaging, well groomed, knowledgeable and present whenever needed, sometimes even before. We made a comment while chatting that made her ask if we worked in the service industry. (she's a sharp cookie)

We hijacked her while it was slow in the restaurant and traded war stories. Many of the same complaints and many of the same circumstances and concerns.

Service industry folk are a dysfunctional dynamic of work family and can be at each others throat one minute and have that same person's back five minutes later. Serving is a Love/Hate job. You either make the job your own, a profession, and control it to work out to your benefit or come in every shift hating your job which will always be reflected in your tips (aka) salary.

My last forty hour serving job netted me around $70k and came with full benefits. I was one lucky waitress. I worked hard for it. I showed up every day on time if not early. My uniform and apron were always clean and pressed and my personal appearance was clean, neat and professional. If you want to make big bucks, dress and act like you deserve them.

I remember other servers I worked with through the decades who constantly complained about how little they were making on any given shift. My thought process was the opposite. If I wasn't making good money, I needed to be a better server.

I always knew every special or menu item . I knew how everything was prepared or where it came from. I knew the ingredients and I knew the wines or liqueurs to suggest to go with them. 

I knew when they needed that extra cup of ice or that drink or water refill. I knew when they needed more napkins, condiments or a box to go. I knew to keep the table neat and clean and the conversation flowing, unless they weren't big talkers. Then I would silently take care of their every need or want without them ever having to ask for either. It's a psychological job, being a server. It's a study of the masses.

People go out to eat, sometimes (especially these days) dreading the amount money they are about to drop, then an excellent server will come to your table and give such good service that they leave looking forward to the next visit and most probably will ask for you.

It's a win/win.

It's a great profession if you commit to getting it right and always go the extra mile without having to be asked.

Today we had that server. Valerie. 

It was a tough day for me. It was a tough day for millions of others. After having such a pleasant experience with our server though, it uplifted my spirits, which in turn uplifted her gratuity.

We will call every time we want to go there now just to make sure she is working. If she isn't we'll go another time when she is.

Four years isn't a lifetime but can be. You simply never know. Your next breath could be your last.

I'm hoping democracy and checks and balances prevail and we'll get through this time with fewer scrapes and bumps than I'm thinking we will have to experience.

You simply never know...do you?


Till next time...COTTON

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