Feeling Normal...For ME!

I woke up this morning and felt wonderful for the first time since my head injury. Tim fixed some toast and my favorite glass of Nestle Quik. Being delivered in bed made it even better!

 

I had to work at three thirty but left an hour early for work. Today was the owners wife's birthday. If you ask her, she's the owner and her spouse is the owner's husband. Sounds a lot like me and Tim. Actually we have a lot in common. She is ten years older than me and her husband is two years younger than her. Tim is two years younger than me and I feel ten years older.

She's a hard one to buy for so I took the safe route. I bought her a nice card and included two tickets for tonight's Power Ball drawing, ten scratch off tickets and even a penny to help her get started. I addressed the envelope to "Margaret Drysdale." That's what I call her, especially when I need her to float me a loan, which I do quite often. Guess I should really call her "Milburn."

Her birthday celebration always starts a couple of days in advance. Customers and friends who can't be there on her birthday start dropping off presents days in advance. Barb keeps them all by her
Queen "B" bar stool. She had vases of flowers, gift bags with earrings, necklaces, balloons tied to her chair and cards galore, all propped up on the bar.

Here's the thing about Barb. She's a pretty tough cookie to say the least. She's very demonstrative when talking to you and her little head shakes like a bobble head doll. She can be telling you about a sale at Kohl's but to others it appears she's dogging you out. (which she is, sometimes)

She grew up very poor and has never forgotten her humble start. She could pinch a penny til it screamed, and does. She can't abide waste in any form and keeps tabs on all money coming in and going out of the restaurant.

She acts like a Big Bad Bear, and often is. She also has a heart as big as the Atlantic and always willing to help ones who help themselves. Oh she may give you some grief about it first but if you need something, all you have to do is ask. If you're a slacker you can forget about it but if you're a hard worker, she'll always help. Trust me, I know first hand. Since I have worked for her (and the owner's husband) they have helped us out time and time again. I will say I have always paid her back in a timely manner but has saved our butt many times. She jokes about what terrible luck we have, even commenting today  "I don't know if YOU should be the one buying me lottery tickets, you have pretty horrible luck."

In her birthday card I wrote "Thanks for all your help, hope you have a great day and remember if you hit it big, take me with you!"

By seven the bar was overflowing with presents, flower arrangements, balloons and gift bags. I made this observation to my fellow co workers:

"Dang, the bar looks like a memorial on the side of a road when somebody gets hit by a car."

My night started out crappy. Had five ladies who obviously don't go out much. They ran me to death, talked down to me and demanded something every time I went to the table. I smiled and kow towed. When you're  server you simply never know and HAVE to treat every table the same. Needless to say they stiffed me on an almost eighty dollar tab and even shorted me on one of the separate checks. As they walked out I bit the bullet and thanked them for coming in and told them it had been my pleasure.

Here's the way Karma happens. Every other table I had the rest of the shift took excellent care of me and walked out at ten thirty with Franklin and a couple of his buddies.

Thank goodness I told the crappy women to come back to see us and be sure to ask for me. "My name's Martha."  (I didn't do that but have before)

My old head's feeling better and black eye is almost gone. It's kind of like being a server...sometimes you get a shiner but sometimes you get a crown. I shrugged off the crappy table, concentrated on making everyone ELSE happy and it all worked out for me.

So glad I survived my fall it's not even funny. Feeling better every day and know the harder I try, the more blessings we will receive.

You get what you give...I'm a firm believer in that.

Til next time...Conscious COTTON

Dealing With the Public is NEVER Dull

This is a picture of the Parmesan cheese shaker we use at work. A nifty little grater(about six inches tall) that we take to tables with entrees. We grate the cheese in the kitchen and take it out to shake on the various dishes.

I was working lunch today and took another server's food to her table. I sat the grater down first so I could place the entrees in front of the two guests. I asked the woman while picking the grater up if she would like fresh Parmesan? Most people comment on what a cool shaker it is but this woman replied "OH, I thought that was a cell phone."

You know me, I held up one finger and said "wait a minute." I held the shaker up to my ear and said "Hello?" I held the shaker out to her and said "It's for you." Her husband cracked up. She took it pretty well and said that it looked like an older cell phone.

Number one: What kind of a sever is going to take their cell phone (new OR old) WITH them to a table, much less sit it down on the customer's table while they deliver food?

Number two: As long as she thought it was my phone I thought I'd go ahead and answer it .

When I went back in the kitchen and told another server, she said people had said that to her before...some even said they thought it was a remote control. I told her she should have pointed it at the guest and acted like she was trying to push a button and say "It is, but I'll be darned ... the mute button isn't working."

We all got a good laugh over that one. Basically I am there as entertainment for the staff and do my job quite well, if I may say so myself!

I swear I hear more crazy stuff from the public than could fill a book. Actually I am hoping to write a book one day, full of my stories and experiences.

When I worked for Longhorn I had four little ladies at my table one time who asked me what the "Vegetable melody was?" ( One of our side dishes was a vegetable medley.)

In a cute little tune I made up on the fly... I sang brightly "Broccoli, carrots zucchini and peas!" The older woman didn't bat an eye but said matter of factly "I'll have that."

It's never dull waiting on the public...sometimes it can be frustrating but more often it can be extremely entertaining.

Like the time at my old restaurant when we had two shrimp appetizers we were instructed to push like crazy for the guests to buy. I told a nice couple about both of them... and asked which they would like? The husband said cheerfully "Why don't you surprise me?" So I quickly came back with "Alright...I'm pregnant with your baby." His wife was taking a sip of her margarita as I surprised him just as he had asked and it shot straight out of her nose like a comedy sketch.

Be careful what you ask for!

It is never dull waiting on the public...especially if you're at MY table!

Til next time...COTTON

Only Two More Shifts..WOO HOO !

I have decided that I am just too old to work doubles anymore....especially back to back. Speaking of backs, this ole gal's is killing her! Not to mention my feet my head and my legs.

I am grateful to have a job that I can work as much as I want and walk out with a paycheck after every shift...guess the good outweighs the bad.

Today was crazy. The lunch shift was fast and furious. Every one wants to be in and out in under thirty minutes.

One of my pet peeves is when another server runs food to your table and they ask that sever to bring them something like mayo or mustard and while THAT server has gone to fetch it...I come back to the table and ask if they need anything and they say "Well yes, I need some mustard and mayo." Then I go to get it and come back to the table and there sits mustard and mayo already brought by the other server. Shouldn't they instead say "Well I asked the other server to bring some mayo and mustard?" This happened twice today. The second time I passed a server in the hallway toting a bottle of mustard and mayo and Tabasco... stopped her to ask her what table she was going to. When she told me I quickly grabbed some mustard , mayo and Tabasco and walked ten steps behind her to the table with my hands loaded with their obviously desperately needed items. She sat hers on the table and I walked up ten seconds after her with mine with a cleverly disguised look of surprise on my face. Hey we may be "Waitresses" but we aren't stupid .

Then there are the people that are "Low Talkers." The restaurant is already loud and noisy when we are busy and the Country music piped throughout the place doesn't help one iota. I will ask what they would like to order and without looking up from their menu will mumble incoherent words like they were confessing their most horrible sin to a Priest. I will say nicely "Excuse me?" Then they will repeat their mumbling order at exactly the same volume still not bothering to at least look up so I can attempt to read their lips. I then try a different approach with "I'm sorry, what did you say?" If they still don't get it I have to finally say "I am sorry but I can't understand a word you are saying." (A good friend of mine that I work with taught me that one.)

It's like people that are on their cell phone while trying to order. If they shoo me away with their hand when I first go to the table...I won't go back until they hang up the phone. My motto is "Shoo me once shame on you, shoo me twice and don't eat." I had a couple at my table today, the man was on the phone the entire time and his wife finally said that she would order for both of them because they were in a rush. I know I shouldn't have, but I am by NO MEANS a 'Low Talker' and took the order from the wife while he held his head cocked over down in the booth with his hand over his open ear and acted like I was continuing to bother him. When their food came out he was un pleased with what his wife had ordered and I felt like saying "If you had taken the time to get off your phone and speak with me I would have granted your every wish...but I just ordered you what your wife told me you wanted."

ANYHOO.. enough of THAT rant!

Tonight was insane. After a fifteen minute break I was back on the clock and ran my butt off for four more hours . I finally got to go home after 9:00 and fell into this chair to do what I love most...WRITE WRITE WRITE !

I went in search of my favorite bedroom slippers...found one but the other one was missing. My husband found it under our king size bed...dried with dog slobber covered with dirt and twigs and missing the cute pink bow and the fluffy tail that used to be on the heel of the slipper.

CHARLIE !! The idiot Bulldog that our son snuck back into our house proceeding his OWN sneaking back home had discovered it and taken it to his secret nest under our bed. My two Boxers are too big to get under the bed so Charlie takes every precious item he finds under our bed to gnaw on and enjoy.

The first time my oldest son snuck Charlie back into the house he was just a pup. Granted my son (another idiot that I love) paid $3000.00 for this dog...but he is till a "DOG."

It was Christmas time and I was getting decorations out of the attic when a piece of insulation (you know, that pink stuff they spray in your attic) fell onto the floor in the upstairs hall. I was coming back down the stairs when I saw it and thought to myself "I'd better get that before Charlie sees it." As I went to pick it up he charged like "Dang that be something GOOD if she is going for it" and quickly snorted up the fiberglass insulation into his flat faced mouth. I didn't tell anyone about it...just prayed that he would still be alive in the morning.

Obviously the fiber agreed with him...just like the cotton puff of a tail on my bedroom slipper and the pink bow that was previously attached to the lamb's head.

My husband said he was wondering while I was at work why Charlie was coughing like he had a fur ball caught in his throat. Dang, it was my little lamb's tail and bow and I will never forgive him for it.

If he can live through eating fiberglass insulation...my bedroom slippers are gravy, no wonder he looks so happy!

After the day I had though it is good to come home to humor. There is never a short supply of it here and that is why it is always nice to come home. Don't have to be back to work til tomorrow at 4:00...it is almost like a day off! Two more days and I will have my second day off since August!!

It will seem like a vacation...wonder where I will go?

Til next time...COTTON

"Dear God, Why Ya Gotta Ask So Much of Me?! Love, Kelly"

Talk about being pushed to my limit.


It started with a nice enough table and quickly spiraled to the depths of a really BAD table.


A mother with her two grown kids, their spouses and her two grand kids. It was 11AM and two of the adults ordered a beer...by the time they left, Glenn Beck would have felt like ordering one too. They were really nice but made Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally" look like a dream come true for a server.



This is the way it began.

(Oldest grown daughter ordering for herself) : "I want a 'kid's' chicken salad but instead of grilled chicken I want steak with a seven pepper seasoning cooked medium rare. Instead of being on a mixed green salad, I want it on a wedge with extra bacon and instead of the crumbled bleu cheese I want mixed cheese and add extra onions with some bleu cheese dressing on the side." The rest of the orders were even more complicated with tons of special instructions and modifications. I told the last one ordering that it was a good thing I had learned a lot of Spanish while working there. Only one of them got the joke.



The food came out perfectly (Thanks Amigos) and then came THE table...the one God sent to REALLY try my patience.



Five "Joe Schmoes." Not businessmen; They more looked like they were waiting for a lane to come open at the bowling alley and had stopped by to see how far they could push a waitress.



Not iced tea or cokes...but blackberry tea, strawberry limeade and raspberry tea. All drinks that I have to make individually in pint glasses that I have to get from the bar and make one at a time (every time they get empty.)



Then came the order...



"I want the sirloin with the stuffed shrimp except I want the fillet instead. I want the fillet blackened and want to substitute the salad for a cup of soup and want to add a Caesar salad with no croutons with extra Parmesan with the dressing on the side. I want to add some mushrooms to mine and I want extra crackers with my soup." And that was just the first guy.

After finally taking the entire order, I went to type it into the computer and felt like I was sending an encrypted message to the kitchen that may be intercepted by the FBI.



Their order came out flawlessly as well (Thanks AGAIN, Amigos.) I ran my butt of just keeping their "special" drinks refilled...but filled they were!



By this point I had five other 'normal ' tables needing my attention and was so far behind it wasn't even funny if it had been in a "Lucy" episode.



My co workers helped me out tremendously (Thanks, Gringos) and by the time the 'bowlers' wanted their checks I was almost caught up.



My bowlers had a $170.00 tab and two of the men disputed their tabs. I told them truthfully that their order was quite confusing and that I had mis interpreted some of their instructions.



I went and had all the tabs corrected to their approval and ended up with a $6.00 total tip.



For six bucks I had broken my back to make these guys happy, my other tables suffered...but none of them complained or seemed to notice a lack of service.



It was just in MY mind I knew that I had not given as good as service to my other tables because I was kow towing to a table of five, hoping that they would appreciate the extra mile I was going for them.



NOT GONNA HAPPEN.



DIDN'T HAPPEN.



I mentioned to my general manager that I was grateful this kind of shift didn't happen every day and it was only one "BLIP" in the big picture.



Got home from work with tears in my eyes from the most stressful day I have had in quite a few months.



Vacuumed the house, cooked dinner with a bad attitude and then the treasurer from the Homeowners's Ass. came knocking at the door.



She brought me a check for $80.00 for cutting the front of the subdivision and said that I was hired to keep it looking as great as I have been doing all along for free.



"The Good, The Bad, The Ugly"...YOU decide.



All I know is that at the end of this long trying day..I would have never thought that I would feel compensated for the shift I had just endured.



God gives and God takes...Lucky for me it was my turn to recieve. After the day I had, I bet he felt guilty and gave me a bonus!



"Thanks Be To God."

Secret "Snipers"

At work, we have "secret shoppers" sent from corporate to pose as guests and critique their experience. They start when they walk in the door, grading how the host staff greets them and how long it takes them to be seated. They grade the restrooms, parking lot and quality of their meal and their service. These are people that just sign up to be shoppers. You can spend time online and sign up to be a shopper for almost any business from Walmart to Target to any restaurant you can imagine. You get your meal and gratuity refunded...so basically it is a "free" meal. What these people do not realize is that a LOT of money is spent on this program therefore a LOT of attention is paid to these reports. We've had servers fired over having a bad "Shop".

I agree that it is a good tool to keep us on our toes and try to be consistent in our service. I also agree that depending on what type of day and what type of mood the customer is in, it will reflect on how they perceive their meal and experience in our store.

My good friend , let's call her "Shawty" has been at our store since it opened. She has gotten 100% after a 100% on her shops time and time again.

Last week she caught a bullet in the back from a "sniper"...I mean a "shopper".

She said that she was so busy and had so many tables that she didn't even remember who the people were. Obvious from their report they had a stop watch on them. "It took six minutes for my husband to get his horseradish for his steak." "The server seemed like she didn't want to be there." "It took 25 minutes for me to get a glass of water." (I find that fact a little hard to swallow...even if I had to wait 25 minutes to swallow it.)

Out of 100% she got ...ummm let's just say "Not a good score."

When I walked in today and saw the report posted my heart dropped into my stomach. If "Shawty" could get a bad shop, I was destined to be next in the line of the "Sniper's" fire.

What is crazy is that we work with so many young kids that could give a flying fart about how they do their job or could care less when they get a bad shop.

AS for me and my friend...we care about our jobs, we work our butts off from the time we walk in the door until the time we walk out of it. We leave our problems at the door, we give the job our total attention and realize how lucky we are to have a job that gives you a paycheck every time you leave...and that our performance determines what that paycheck will be.

No wonder so many of the younger servers leave ticked off. They do a crappy job and they get crappy tips. Lucky for them THEY didn't get shopped!!

Unfortunately for my friend "Shawty" she did get shopped...and on a horrible shift to have it happen.

I think that could have been me...it STILL could be. I wish that these people knew how much weight their comments carry. They are getting a free dinner consisting of whatever they wish to order regardless of the price. We are getting "Their View." Whatever that may be, that is the view that counts. I think that if they knew they could possibly have some one's job on the line , that they would lighten up on their critique.

I WILL say that if it is a truly horrible experience, the server and the entire team should be held accountable. If it is just a busy, BUSY night and you can see that for yourself...cut us some slack. Could YOU wait on eight tables at a time and have everything go perfectly? Sometimes as a seasoned server it DOES go smoothly, sometimes it just turns into a train wreck and you are glad that you don't break down into tears.

Never downplay the role of a "Waiter." It is a hard job if you do it right, and it is as I always say "sales and marketing."

Just be careful..."BIG BROTHER" is out there and I hope I am not his next victim. My thanks to "Shawty" for taking this hit for me, you never know when the bullet may be whizzing MY way!

Prom Night...For a Waitress...UGGH

Just my luck, all three high schools in my town held prom on the same night,YIPEE!

If that wasn't bad enough, the economy continues to show it's ugly head in the tips I now receive. My first tip was $4 on a $60 tab.Followed by $3 on $40 and so on and so on. The crowning jewel was a$5 tip on a $112 tab.

I truly think that a lot of people think that us server's get a paycheck. NOT TRUE. We make $2.13 an hour. The government takes out 15% of our sales as if we actually receive the standard tip and that all comes out of the $2.13. I haven't gotten a paycheck in thirty one years, and always owe state tax at the end of the year. So when I make terrible tips, it is actually costing me money to wait on tables. Not to mention if I DO actually make 15% tips, I still have to tip out to the host staff and the bartenders. To give you an example:

I sold $1106 worth of food and beverages. I had to tip the food runners $10.00 the host staff got $18.65 and the bar got $5.33. If I had made 15% of my sales, that would have been $165.00. Not bad for six or so hours of work, but subtract all my tip out and I am left with $131.00. Now consider that my tips were terrible, I made no where NEAR 15% and I still had to fork out almost $34.00 to tip share...It's kinda depressing. Don't get me wrong, I am TRULY grateful that I have my job, I just wish more of the public understood exactly how my job works and what the ramifications are when I get stiffed on a tab.

On a brighter note (if there IS one) yesterday I waited on the president of our company (over 300 stores). He is a very down to earth guy...not that I know too many millionaires, but he was affable and genuine. They are about to do renovation of our store and were there to give it a "look see".

After he ate they were walking around with the architect looking at things when they all stopped by the dish area ( a disgusting place where we scrape food, dump trash and send things back to our wonderful Latino dishwasher). I told the "Prez" (as I like to call him) that it would be great if they could block off this section of the restaurant so that customers had no awareness of this area, with the clinking plates, dumping of silverware and the kitchen help screaming out orders and requests. I said that when we were in an hour dinner wait for a table, the customers were okay with this area, but otherwise they always asked to be moved so that they couldn't hear the kitchen help. He replied, "Yeah, I bet they could get an ear full". I quickly zinged back with "Oh No..we don't seat people HERE if they can speak Spanish". At least I got a good chuckle out of him...and a 30% tip.

I do have a good job, I have a great support team, from the regional manager to the general and associate manager to the cooks in the kitchen. It just bothers me that the general public that has never been in my shoes...doesn't realize how important it is to tip a server...I should say a "GOOD" server.

I will continue my endeavor...some of my regular customers today said that maybe I should start doing a stand up routine during my time waiting on tables...adding a little bonus free of charge. It might be a thought for consideration...although I can almost guarantee my managers will nix that one right off the bat...they know how quick my tongue is.

I keep telling myself that it WILL get better...how many times do you have to say it before it actually happens?

The "Bread" Cutter

We were laughing at work recently about an episode I had at work a few months ago. I work in a mid priced Steakhouse, in an all too wealthy community. (obviously I commute to work). We serve bread with all meals...and you know if it's free; they ALL want it. It is a multi grain Boulle, served with butter, and the customers eat it up like nobody's business. Actually at work, we like to call it "Christian Crack." It is just a large round loaf of bread that everyone that walks into our store is rabid for. It is served on a little cutting board with a small dish of butter, and a steak knife stuck in the end of it so that you can cut it into slices. Sometimes you will even go up to greet a table, saying "Hi, my name is Kelly", and they will immediately say, can we get some bread?... Like I am withholding something from them intentionally... although actually as a saleswoman, I would like to sell them something first! But I am ALWAYS happy to bring them their "FIX" , and keep the bread "Jonesing" down to a minimum. I had two couples one night; nicely dressed, about my age.. a little uppity for me... but HEY it's ALL good when serving the public for your paycheck! I brought the mandatory first loaf, and one of the women asked for another loaf (of course!) I said cheerily.."SURE, I"ll be right back with it !" Then the other woman spoke up, and said to my utter amazement... "and could you cut it up for us?" Well, if she had been handicapped in any way, or maimed, hurt, or obviously unable to cut up her bread, I would have happily and cheerfully done so. But this woman could have been my twin sister, in great health; maybe her hand hurt from the 5 carat diamond ring weighting down her "cutting Hand". I asked if they were serious, thinking they were kidding, to which I got a haughty reply.."could you? " I said happily.. sure I can, ( hiding a smirk ) and took their precious, uncut loaf back to the bread station. I held it down with a wax paper sheet and hacked it into five or six slices for them, and took it back to their throne.... I mean table. The other woman, I guess noticing my chagrin at having to slice up bread for perfectly competent people my own age; said.. " I think what my friend meant, is that she thought you had some bread cutting machine in the back that could slice it for us ." I think at this point I should have just let it go, but in my 28 years as a server, I have had handicapped people, mentally impaired people , or older people with arthritis so bad they could hardly hold a fork; and this woman found it okay to ask me to slice her stinkin bread up. So when the friend commented about the "bread cutting machine" , I just couldn't help but reply.... "NOPE....it's just me and a knife!! " People amaze me every day, not only at work, but in almost every instance I encounter with the public. Of course I still love my job, ( and so far haven't gotten fired with my friendly, yet amusing humor...or maybe it's just us employees that think I am so funny!)It is a tough job being a public servant .. they need to find another word to replace "servant", and maybe I would feel better. But all in all, I LOVE my job, I am good at it, and most people love to have me wait on them. Just another thing that I wanted to put out there, and I am sure that millions of other servers can relate TOTALLY. Till next time...Cotton