Lessons Learned...Always A Good Thing

I just got home from one of the busiest lunches I've worked since starting my career over in Florida. It was a hot sunny winter day and was sweating before I even clocked in.

By two, the place was rocking and people continued streaming in the door. Of course that's a good thing but sometimes isn't the easiest thing, for a server. I saw my manager at one of my tables speaking with two guests and the instant I saw her standing there, remembered they had asked me for some ketchup. I got the ketchup and went to their table with it, apologizing the moment I sat it down.

Ironically enough, the customer who had asked me for it didn't seem too upset but the other did

Regardless, it was my fault and accepted the blame...as a server should.  My manager told me to offer free dessert after the meal...and I did.


Yes, it was totally my bad and tried to execute recovery. I was also engaged with about six or seven other tables by then, with people still streaming in the front door.

They both ordered dessert and the unhappy one ordered another drink. I specifically remembered the accompanying instructions...still trying to make a recovery.

Seems I was wrong about that as well.

Details don't matter but would swear on my own mother's grave I did as I was asked.

I apologized at least two more times and asked for forgiveness.

One of the customers forgave me and told me to have a good day. The other one had obviously been disappointed beyond recovery and  is not what you want as an employee, representing your establishment and your reputation as a server.

I felt like a loser.

I pride myself on being a pretty excellent server and felt I had dropped the ball. Yes it was busy but shouldn't be a factor when giving good service. It's not the customers' fault I was busy.

It frazzled me, which got me totally discombobulated and messed with my 'Mojo'. My eyes welled up with tears and my snot locker got quickly full.

I turned into a hamster on that little wheel spinning and couldn't catch up for the life of me.

They both left the table and I picked up their checks. Both had left me a tip, one receipt with a frowny face drawn on it and just didn't feel right with me.

As they walked out the front door I followed them out. One had left a tip on a credit card, the other in cash. I handed one the cash back and told the other I had closed out the credit card without including the tip.

It was almost getting old by then but like a hair in a biscuit, I hung in there wanting them to leave happy.

Here's the thing which made me loose my cookies, totally.

The one who wasn't happy, rolled her eyes and accepted the cash back but the other reached out to hug me...it tore me slap up.(total southern speak)

I went back in to the chaos of a still busy lunch shift.


About ten minutes later,  one of the sous chefs came out and asked me if I had time to step into the kitchen, saying he knew I'd had a rough time but needed to speak with me.

Rut Roh...


That's when my heart fell into my shoes.

I was getting fired...they must have complained again to management.

I walked into the kitchen and there, on the expo line, was a plate of Miyazaki ribeye ($60 per pound) and our hands down best hand cut fries ever.

Chef said they knew I was having a pretty tough shift and wanted to buy me lunch.

Miyazaki prefecture is the only region in Japan that raises cattle by their breeds and biological types. For the past 10 years, Miyazaki has produced the highest qualitybeef in Japan, even higher than Kobe. 


I satrted to cry again.


How lucky am I to work for a place who not only strive to make the guest happy every single time but also take care of their employees as well? They seem to love me and the feeling is totally mutual. To love your job is one thing, to be appreciated for doing it makes you love it even more.

It was a belly full on the run. Every time I circled through the expo line after dumping dishes in the dish room or heading back out to chaos in the dining room with my arms loaded with more plates, I snagged a piece of Miyazaki and a couple of fries.

Even with giving back the two tips, I made more money than I ever have on a day shift. I didn't get home until almost dark and Tim was already there. I told him about my day. He told me the sooner I forgot about it, the better. He also said the one woman was most probably appalled and embarrassed by her lunch companion's behavior.


You know, I've been a server close to forty years now and this was only the second time a customer has brought me to tears.

 I'd say for dealing with the public on a daily basis, those are pretty good odds. It still bothered me a bit but a couple of glasses of wine later barely bothered me at all.

I had taken the high road. I knew the customer was blowing it all out of proportion and basically making their self look like the bad guy to everyone else but apologized again and again and again and in a sincere and generous way.

Take that to the karma bank and make a deposit...cha ching!!

So I guess I'm good for another forty years before another customer makes me cry. By then I'll be so old I won't remember it anyway.

I just take my job very seriously, as crazy as that sounds. I also have never once complained about a server to a manager when eating out somewhere...anywhere. You never know what's going on with that server or what may happen to their job if you complain about their service. I'd hate for someone to lose a job over me not having ketchup for my french fries in a timely manner. That even sounds ridiculous, and most certainly is.

Till next time,

                           Plate Slinger Extraordinaire,  COTTON

Rolling In The Dough...

Had a great weekend at work. When you are a server for a living it's a crap shoot day by day. You can have a great day or you can crap out. You roll the dice every time you clock in and just pray it all averages out to your advantage in the long run.

Christmas was busy but nothing like last year. The week after Christmas it actually picked up and this past weekend was "Christmas" for real! I had friends and blog readers that came in and tipped me outrageously and was just blessed with great tables and phenomenal tips. It allowed me to catch up to being just barely behind...something I am often not!

Friday was great, Saturday even better and Sunday was icing on the cake. We have a brunch on Sunday's that is off the chain. Frittatas and omelets, Eggs Benedict, fresh blueberry pancakes, banana nut pancakes and the best french toast I've ever had. It wasn't as busy as some Sunday's have been but it was just so great! My first table, an older couple from Jamaica who are regulars left me a fifty percent tip and my next six tables weren't far behind. Every table I waited on was pleasant, friendly and loving them some Kelly! No one griped no one sent food back no one treated me like "Just a waitress." I only waited tables for two hours and made almost seventy bucks. Adding this to my Friday and Saturday night...I "Took the money and ran."

I commented to another server "I'm probably gonna get T Boned at an intersection on the way home since I've been so lucky all weekend." Then I added that if I did,  she needed to speak at my funeral and say how prophetic I had been. I added to make it funny because my funeral is going to be one big comedy show send off... a "Comedy Roast of my ashes." Nothing but funny stories, lots of laughter and a keg of beer by  the door. I already have my hilarious brother booked as the emcee with my sister who is ALMOST as funny as him as his lovely assistant. The server said she had no doubt about that, as Barb walked by and added "Should we say you were a prophet or that you profited on your way?"

I'm in such a good place, not financially but physically. I work for people who genuinely love and care about me. I work hard for them and they appreciate it...that's hard to find these days, even if you are an executive or even just a dish washer.

A couple of weeks ago when I had a major meltdown before Christmas and my emotional walls were caving in I confided to Barb that I almost felt like killing myself except for the fact it would ruin Christmas even more for my kids...they would say "Dang, she didn't even buy us presents AND killed herself?"  Barb gave me a hug and said "Sweetie, I would miss you."

That's all it took...a hug and five kind words. I scraped my emotional self off the floor, shoved it in my pocket and kept on going. It ended up to be a great Christmas and I  realized all the drama was in my head when I should have realized what was in my heart...love and determination.

I laugh every day at work... a lot of people can't say that. I have three healthy kids, a husband who puts up with me and I laugh with them too. I think one of my better qualities is finding humor in most everything...

For example I was at work yesterday in the kitchen by  the bread oven. Barb goes to the bakery and buys  bread fresh every morning. If someone cuts half a loaf and doesn't use the other half it gets hard and crusty. There was a piece sitting on the cutting board and when I went to throw it away another server said "Don't throw that out!" I picked it up and it was hard as a rock. I said "What...are you going to use it to exfoliate your face?" I went to walk out of the kitchen as another server walked in and I commented over my shoulder "Don't throw away Dayna's loofah on the cutting board."

Today I worked with my buddy, Hoke and we ALWAYS find something to laugh about. A woman came in all by herself and sat at his table. Okay, she was strange and obviously lonely for company but very nice. He went to take her order and I went in  the kitchen to do something. I kid you not, ten minutes later he was still standing at her table with his order pad in his hand. When he came back to the kitchen I said "Were you  taking her medical history or her order?"



It's fun working with the public...it's like a constant psychology course. Some days are bad but there is always something to laugh about.

I love my life. I loved it more when we were making over six figures a year but at least I still love it. I remember one time years ago when I waited old two older women, well into their late eighties. We had a vegetable medley as a side dish on the menu and one of the women asked "What is your vegetable melody?" I sang back in a cute little tune (which I still remember to this day) "Broccoli, carrots, zucchini and peas!" She didn't bat an eye at me singing, just replied "I'll have them."
So I am "JUST" a waitress. I am "JUST" a mom. I am "JUST" a wife.
Life could be one heck of a lot worse...at least I laugh every day!
Til next time...COTTON

Get Real, People!

 So I had ME a day off, thanks to The United States of America shoving all the native Americans out of their rightful homeland and cooking a big dinner to celebrate! My sister cooked a fabulous meal and we all ate drank and got tipsy! (My kind of day off)

Right back to the grind today. I am working double shifts the next four days and already dreading it. The holiday season in the restaurant world is like the summer is in a beach town. This is my summer and I gotta strike while the iron is hot!

Worked the lunch and dinner shift with my buddy, Hoke.  We could have fun together at a blood letting. It was pretty stinking busy, our restaurant is located in a popular outdoor shopping park and with all the big "Black Friday" hoopla (don't get me started on THAT...another blog altogether) we banked at lunch.
My last table was a party of four...a family. A man and his wife, maybe a sister and their mother. The mother was a trip from the start. We had been busy and had to clean off a table for them. The old mother shook her head and said it simply wouldn't do. She couldn't sit this close to a kitchen or area where people would be leaning over her table and "Doing all that sneezing on us."

Barb moved them to another table (of their own choosing) so far away from my section of tables I felt like taking a golf cart to go greet them.

I told Hoke I was gonna go up to Granny and say "Sorry it took me so long to greet you but this Swine Flu has been kicking my butt. I thought that Legionnaire's Disease was bad but WOO...this makes THAT look like a sniffle, by the way does this rash look contagious?"

Of course I didn't but every  time I went back into the kitchen Hoke and I came up with another good one. "How about saying can you feel my head, do I feel feverish to you?" Or "That turkey gave me the trots yesterday, I'll be back in a minute."

If you are a germaphobe restaurants probably aren't your best bet...we aren't called "Food Handlers" for nothing.

It got worse, she didn't know how to read a menu either so I spent five minutes explaining where to find the salads..."They are listed under the section titled SALADS." After I also pointed out the section titled "Pasta" her daughter rolled her eyes for at least the fourth time and smiled sweetly at me. Thank God I was just their waitress...when they left I would be done with them, the daughter lives this EVERY DAY.

By the time they left Hoke and I had come up with about ten more jokes to play on "Granny Germaphobe."

My kids have been exposed to so much dirt and grime growing up with a full time working mother that they are immune to most everything...except ME!

The restaurant I work for is hands down the cleanest one I have ever worked in and I have worked in quite a few. People need to get a grip and reconsider their gripes.

I have a ton of shifts ahead of me and  have to pace myself. The shifts aren't so bad but some of the people I wait on could kill you quicker than a mean H1N1 virus.

Heading to bed to rest up...

Til next time Contagious COTTON

The Storm Seems to be Subsiding...

This is a pic of TS Lee pounding the shores of Destin where two of my dear friends live. It looks like a mural of the last two years of my life...tumultuous  yet somehow amazingly beautiful.

I was off today and still hadn't heard from my mechanic about my car. It was almost time to pick up Massey from school. She is still super allergic to school buses so I called in a favor from Zach's friend who has been staying with us. He made the mistake of dropping by the house thirty minutes before she got out of school so I asked him if he would go pick her up. He said sure, so I text Massey and told her he would be there instead of me.

While he was gone I started thinking...if my car wasn't ready yet, why take a day off while I still didn't have enough money to go get it when it was? If I picked up a shift that would just be more money I would have when it was ready. I called my buddy, Hoke and thank the Lord HIS car was acting up and he wanted me to pick up his shift. Now I had a shift but no way to get there.

Call in favor number two...I called Zach's buddy who was on his way to pick up Massey at school and asked if he could run me to work after he brought Massey home and got the same reply "Sure."
Ironed a work shirt and jumped in the shower for four minutes. Five minutes on make up, three minutes brushing my teeth and two minutes on my hair later I was ready to go!

When I got to work the owner said we had two big parties coming in and asked if I wanted to be on one of them? Parties are a tough call. It's putting all your eggs into one basket. You either get lucky or get screwed. I gambled ... said I would take the party of twelve and crossed my fingers and sent up a silent prayer to The Big Guy upstairs who I have on  mental speed dial.

I told my bartender friend, Oopsy that I was gonna be a glass half full kind of girl. I wasn't even scheduled to work so whatever I made would be more than I would have made sitting home worrying how much my car was gonna cost.

Lucky for me the party showed up and all had teeth no visible prison tattoos and seemed to be business professionals. It turned out to be a group from the new hospital being built  and set to open in a few short months, hosted by the CEO. I made sure my service was  flawless and kept the wine glasses full.

I waited on three other small tables before my party came in, two of the tables were just couples and the third  three businessmen. I made $34 off those three tables and had all my eggs in  the party basket.
I presented the check when the hand signal went up and mentally speed dialed The Big Guy one more time.  When the room emptied I picked up the check and they had left me a 20% tip.

Barbara came in the room and asked how I did? I smiled and said I could get my car tomorrow and have it paid off by Thursday. When I first got to work I stepped out back and called my mechanic, He said the car was ready and told me how much it was. I told him I didn't quite have all the money and he said to come get it in the morning and we could work it out.

 As I cleared the table Barbara and one of our regulars who is an older gentleman were standing in the room  with me talking about retirement. Barbara made the comment she was sixty one and could retire next year. The older gentleman has been retired for over ten years. I told them I knew when I was retiring...when my doctor looked at his watch and pronounced "Time of death, four sixteen AM."

We all laughed and as I cleaned the last glasses away noticed they had left half a bottle of a wonderful Merlot. I chirped "This makes it a 22% tip!"

Had I taken a day off I would be well rested but $106.00 poorer. I feel more rested knowing I can go get my car in the morning, work another double tomorrow and have the mechanic paid off by Thursday. Waiting tables is a gamble but one that I love to take.

I'm only good at a few things...writing, chewing out my husband, yard work and waiting tables. My husband rarely deserves it and usually  says nothing. (It just encourages me) The yards speak for themselves looking all nice and trimmed and waiting tables is what I do best. I know when to kid and when not to. I know how to make sure dinner is perfect and how to anticipate customer's  needs before they have to ask. If you do it right EVERY single time...the odds are in your favor and tonight I broke the bank!

Headed out in the morning to pick up my Lil' Beem,  make a bank deposit to cover a check that is floating it's way to the vault as I type (It was a holiday weekend... that always buys me a day or two) and headed back to work to do it all again. Life is good!

Til next time...COTTON (having her PHD In BS)

Somebody Stop This Ride and Let Me Off...

I just HAD to use this picture...I laughed so hard when I saw it and can identify with it completely. Working in the service industry can lead ANYONE to drink!

Tonight was one of those nights.

Number one I was ticked before I even went to work when none of my work shirts were clean.

My eighteen year old son had a load of his clothes in the dryer and another load sitting wet in the washer. I appreciate the fact that he does his own laundry (sorta) but for Pete's sake finish what you start!

I had one shirt out in the car that I had talked the owner's wife into giving me. It was a small and all my shirts are extra small. She told me it was too big for me and I balked.

I'm tired of being considered "Extra small" and consider it "Pound Discrimination."

I told Barb I had gained ten pounds since I had started working for them and the shirt would fit me just fine. It would probably help if I had bigger boobs but seeing as I'm already fifty... I don't see that happening.

I planned on using the shirt as a clutch hitter but had to call it to the plate today. I was mad that Zach had my laundry room held hostage and sprayed the new shirt down with starch and ironed it. It looked kinda big but I attributed it to being brand new.

I went into work wearing my potato sack and even the 18 year old hostess said it looked "Kinda big and floppy."

It is meant to be worn un tucked but after Barb saw me in it we decided to go the "Tucked" route.

Then the cartoon began...

When it gets REALLY busy at a restaurant it is total insanity...We like to call it "Controlled Chaos" but sometimes you lose the "Control" part for a span of time that in actuality is only an hour but feels like ten.

I have been at this store for almost a year and feel pretty confident most every shift. Tonight I lost all confidence in myself for about thirty minutes, which seemed like thirty days.

Was it still Saturday? Has my table been waiting five minutes or has half a hour passed?

You lose all concept of time and just keep pushing on trying to remind yourself that it will all be over with soon. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone else's tables, scared they would flag me down and want something. I was in a pinball machine bouncing through the pins hoping not to "Tilt."

It wasn't just me...every server had a look on their face like a deer in headlights...sheer panic.

At one point, my ole buddy Hoke passed me in the alley of the kitchen and said "We'll be laughing about this in a hour." I didn't have time to slap him or even respond...and that's totally out of character for me.

But he was right...one hour later it was all over with.

Two hours later I un tucked my potato sack and clocked out with a nice pay day in my pocket.

I am still not sure why I have chosen this profession... it just seems to fit me well (unlike my new shirt.)

I like selling our great product to people and making their dinner seem like they bought tickets to my own personal show.

Sometimes when I have a particularly good shift and have "Wowed" not only my customers but made my co workers laugh their butts off...I clock out and announce "That concludes my show for this evening, please come back tomorrow to catch my matinee AND dinner performance."

If you've never been a server... I hope this gives you a small glimpse into our wacky world. If you HAVE been a server...you will totally "Get" the above photo.

Ironing a shirt that fits...going to bed and doing it all again. I have two shows tomorrow, lunch AND dinner ...if you live in Newnan, come catch one of them...I promise to make eye contact with you!

Til next time COTTON

A Pretty Lucky Day

I worked a double shift Sunday, worked another one today and have another one tomorrow.

Gotta cram those shifts in while "Bidness" is booming. Lunch was so so but tips were good and I made enough to buy gas and go buy Tim some warm gloves for work tonight....expected low 17. I got him a six pack of "Hot Hands" and hope they work as well as they say. When I came home from lunch and stupidly announced I would run to WalMart to get him some gloves, little Miss Massey was all over it."I'll drive, I'll drive!"

They have to learn sometime and now that I can't use the excuse of Holiday traffic I was backed into a corner.

Off we went (taking the bypass and back roads) and I  have to admit she is a better driver than Zach was at 15.

We pulled into WalMart and she asked where she should park? I told her to turn up the aisle nearest the front door and we parked at the very end where there was plenty of room for her to maneuver.

As we almost froze to death walking from Siberia to the front door of Wally World,  I reminded myself it was still a good decision.

We picked up a decent pair of gloves for Tim and got in the self check out aisle...usually always a mistake. We were next up for the scanner when Massey noticed our gloves didn't have a
Scanny Thing Tag on them (her words). We let the Latinos, red necks and horribly rude people behind us go ahead and screamed back to the men's department to find a pair of gloves with the much needed Scanny Thing Tag.

Back to the self check out. As always, the guy in front of us had no idea how to use a pin pad system or how to use a debit card.

It's a good thing Wal Mart has decent prices. The place they get you is in the patience and tolerance pocket.

Back to our parking spot in Siberia we full out ran. This cold weather is definitely not for skinny people and I am trying to work my way up to being skinny.

Massey got us back home safely and I went back to work. I was worried that we would be slow with the Falcon's on Monday Night Football.

Not the case. The people came out to eat in the freezing temps and I even got lucky enough to get a a party of 9 in a private room.

Problem was... when they showed up it was six women, two high chairs and a baby in a car seat. That's not a party of nine to a server. That tends to be a lose/lose situation.

I put on my game face and gave it the best shot I could. One of the women was totally ticked to find out that we serve Pepsi products. It took her a full five minutes to settle on a Sunkist Orange and things quickly went downhill. I had the entire order taken while she scowled at her menu. I went and brought them bread...she was still looking down at her menu and had not once looked up at me. Not helping, she was a 'Low Talker.' I couldn't hear a word she said and since she had thus far refused to look at me I finally decided maybe she was mentally challenged. Not the case...she was just a Grinch. She finally ordered pasta with meatballs and I commended her on her choice. "Our meat balls are fabulous." I wanted to add they would go GREAT with that Sunkist Orange she was drinking , but thought better.

You never know, waiting tables.

She could be the one picking up the tab and even if she isn't, she deserves the best service I can give.

When the meals finally arrived she looked disgustedly at her pasta and I knew I was in trouble. I asked if everything was okay and everyone but her replied cheerfully that it was.

She sat looking at her meat balls as if she was waiting for them to grow or something...but didn't complain.

Our entrees are huge and almost everyone had food left for me to pack up. I had everyone else's food boxed and asked if she wanted hers boxed as well. Not looking or speaking to me she shook her head no.

Another woman at the table said to bring a box and SHE would take home the pasta.

It was one woman's birthday and they ordered three different desserts. I ordered a free birthday dessert for the guest of honor and took all of them out.

Luckily it was all on one check and luckily one of the friendly women paid.

When all of them left, with ole grumpy pants dragging behind them I picked up the check. There was a piece of paper stuck in the credit card holder that had a hand written note on it. It read "Thanks for the GREAT service and may God Bless you." That is usually the 'Kiss of Death' for a server. A verbal tip "You've done a great job" always means that they feel that is worth ten bucks and take it off your actual tip. If they mention the Lord in a handwritten note...you are usually screwed.

I flipped over the charge slip and much to my surprise they had left me an 18% tip...AND a blessing from God.

That my friends is what it is to be a good server. You HAVE to give good service. You HAVE to take care of the good people and the grumpy people. You HAVE to give the best service you can...EVERY time and hope that it comes back to you.

It's a crap shoot being a server but when you roll the dice you had better be sure  you have blown luck on them. You better be sure you have done everything possible to take care of everyone...even grumpy ole sister. They are most probably mortified at her behavior but appreciated me overlooking it and letting them enjoy a night out without a server saying "Who brought THIS party pooper?"

Had a few other tables that showed me the money and I walked out on top of the world. Of course it was freezing and I ran and skittered across the parking lot to my car but once in it sat and thought about what a Psych job I have.

I not only use my skills as a server but  use the terrific product we serve and get to throw in some free lance psychology and in the end it all works out to my advantage.

As a bonus I LOVE my job and my employer's seem to love crazy ole me.

Back tomorrow for another double shift/ psych session.

"Kella Gets Her Groove Back."

If this keeps up,  we'll be back on top in NO time!

Friday The 13th...JUST What I Need!

Hey, I've been LIVING Friday the 13th for over eight months...what's one more day?

Just got home from one of the craziest shifts I've had in quite a while. It was insanely busy (a good thing) but with the remodel and a lot of young servers on the floor, we went down like the Titanic. The team work ethic was quickly lost and most of the servers were only waiting on their OWN tables instead of looking at the whole picture and expediting the tickets in order.(NOT a good thing)

I kind of...well actually "Really' went off on a few of them and called them out when they weren't carrying their weight. But for Pete's sake, I had a five table section and an additional ten top and still managed to run food and help out every one else...and I'm almost 50!

The ten top I had was a night mare. Ten red necks out to celebrate "Bubba's" birthday. I worked it with another server who is my age. Every one was happy at the table except the one guy drinking (DUH) and his lovely (not) wife. When I took the checks out, the A hole at the end of the table "Mr. Unhappy" took out his cell phone and called the restaurant to ask for the manager. It took him three times to get through to my manager who was running around like crazy trying to keep some semblance of sanity in the dining room. He said he refused to pay the 18% gratuity that we had added (It's printed in the menu for groups of more than seven) and that it was the worst service he had ever had. WHATEVER!

I had already closed out all the checks but his and had to go back and delete all the payments and have the gratuity removed and re run all the checks. The people at the other end of the table said that was totally unnecessary and that they felt fine with the service and the 18%.

You know me...with my PHD in BS. I told the happy end of the table that someone had called from the table on their cell phone and complained to the manager about my service and that I was in a LOT of trouble for giving bad service and just wanted to make things right. They all cooed and oohed and aahed about what a great server I was and that the one guy didn't matter. They asked to see my manager again, but since I wasn't in any trouble at all (my manager knows an idiot when he sees one) I just apologized more than necessary and played my pity card. One older man shoved a five in my hand and the other couple left me a five as well. The A hole filled out his charge slip with 00000 in the tip spot and his sister next to him followed suit. So I split a ten dollar tip with the other server on a $170.00 tab. You know sometimes you get to the point where you don't really even WANT their money if they are going to be such an ass.

I turned around to see my other table being seated with a couple that I absolute detest waiting on. They are nice enough people but they make Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally" look like a pussy cat when ordering. I swear this is not an exaggeration...

"We want two chicken breasts char grilled as an appetizer with extra celery and extra ranch and wing sauce on the side..I believe they ring it in as boneless wings. Then I want the salmon also char grilled with veggies with more than extra snow peas, they never put enough in the medley. I want my salad to be all romaine with tomatoes slices instead of diced tomatoes and onion slices. Then I want an order of just yellow squash, no zucchini and an extra order of mushrooms. I want sweet tea with the lemons on the side and he wants no lemon at all. We need honey for our butter that comes with the bread and some to go cups for our tea."

These people ask for me when they come in, so I guess I am doing something right or either they are trying to see how far they can push a waitress before she explodes. They need separate to go boxes for each entree and to go ramekins for all their many sauces. I made sure it was specifically as they wanted and they left me a $7 tip on a $60 tab. Maybe I should start screwing up some crap where they won't ask for me! But you know, at least they are nice and pleasant. Maybe they are just cheap and would normally leave a five whereas since they like me so much they leave me seven dollars.

All in all it was a profitable night for me, even with not getting tipped on two tabs from "Bubba's" table I walked out after four hours with $154.00 in my pocket and a headache the size of Russia.

Tomorrow is Friday the 13th.

I say "BRING IT ON."

At least after that shift I get a day off after 13 days straight. Unless I pick up Saturday night, which I am contemplating...that will put me at 20 in a row...maybe I should quit counting!

Long Day and Longer Night

I went in to work at 10:30 this morning to work the lunch shift.

Guess who came shuffling through the doors on their walkers to have lunch with us? "The Girls From The Home!" They clucked around in the lobby, wandering off in every direction they could while the hostess got their table set up.

If you are a follower of my blog you may have read about this group in a couple of other blogs I have done.

They live in the Alzheimer's Care Facility in the town where my restaurant is located. They come in several times a year and it is ALWAYS a pleasure and a treat to wait on this cute little group of ladies...one of them even brought along a beau today (I thought maybe he was the male stripper, but it turns out he was just on a lunch date.)

They come in with two care givers that are amazing in their own right. They treat these women with total respect and gracefully administered tact. If a woman forgets what she wants to drink the care givers prod them gently...not pushing them or losing patience, but trying to let them do it for themselves. If they get flustered the care giver simply tells me what to bring them...they seem to know each and every woman very well and I admire the wonderful care they are giving these women ...some who have all but lost their minds to this terrible disease.

Sometimes I will bring back what they ordered to drink and either they have simply forgotten what they ordered or had a quick moment of clarity and remembered that they really like coffee. Some of the women are better off than others... and some are simply toddlers in an eighty year old body. They are all at varying stages in their dementia and some are hopelessly lost in the fog of what used to be a quick and sharp mind.

Some of the women come in dressed impeccably, some look like they had to be dragged into their clothes. At least they have someone to make sure that they are presentable enough to go out to eat. Some shuffle in on their own with walkers with tennis balls attached to the bottom...some are scooting themselves along with their feet in wheelchairs and some have to be led by the arm.

But they ALL get to go out and have a nice lunch... even if they don't remember it by the time they get back to the home at least they had the chance to get out and have some semblance of a normal life for a couple of hours.

I absolutely LOVE waiting on these precious ladies and the care givers that are giving them the best life they can have while this disease rips away their mind, memory and emotions.

When the van pulled up to the door today, my manager said to me "Your girls are here" and I knew immediately who he was talking about.

As I wallow in my own despair, seeing them shuffle in reminded me of how truly lucky and blessed I am and quickly brought me back to reality.

My husband is out of work , I am working myself to death, I worry constantly...but at least I CAN worry. At least I am AWARE of what is happening in my life and can DO something about it.

These women have no say or choice as to what is happening to the person they have been their entire life. They simply have to continue to breathe and be guided through every step of every day for as long as they can hang on to the last scrap of life they have left.

I needed to see these women today.

They will never, ever know...even if I told each and every one of them individually how they uplifted my day and made me step back and once again look at the big picture.

I think God must have sent my "Girls" in today to help me realize how many others are so much worse off in their life than I am in mine. At least I have a life that I can remember, a childhood that I can remember and a family that I can remember...screw the financial problems.

In the grand scheme of things...I seem to be doing pretty good .

Picked up a dinner shift to try and get my bank account back into the black and God smiled on me once again.

All my customers drank lots of alcohol, ordered big and tipped bigger.

Just a mere twelve hours after I left for work, I am back home typing on my blog...feeling a LOT better thanks to "My Girls" today and my "Drinkers" tonight.

At least when I wake up tomorrow to do it all again...I will know what I have to do and will know what I did yesterday...YES! I am TRULY a BLESSED person...I just have to keep remembering that... HEY, at least I still have the capacity to remember.

Til Next time....COTTON

UH OH !

I just got home from work. I talk about how we have "Secret Shoppers"...guess who got a bad shop?

UH OH ! It was me. They ripped my service apart. Out of 1o0 points they gave my service a 69 ...NOT GOOD. It was so bad that you think they would have stuck out in my mind , but for the life of me I can't remember them. First off they said I didn't ask them if they had eaten there before and I find that HIGHLY unlikely. I start every table off the same way, introduce myself and ask if they've eaten with us before. Okay, maybe for the first time in twelve years I did it differently...still HIGHLY unlikely.

They said I let dishes pile up on the table. I am so anal about pre bussing my tables that by the time my guests leave there is nothing there but drink glasses and napkins. It's why the bussers love me..because my tables are so easy to clean and re seat.

They said their potato was hard. Well TELL me for Pete's sake and I'll bring you another one. I don't generally poke a person's potato before I take it to them. They said I seemed rushed...what server isn't?

Granted I am a bit high strung and go a million MPH most of the time. It is just my nature, my personality and my way. So they got me on THAT one.

I try to constantly remember to slow it down..but it's JUST NOT IN MY GENES. Trust me, I'll be checking myself strenuously on every shift.

What is crazy about these reports is that they are taken VERY seriously by the managers and their bosses. I dropped the ball. There is no one to blame but me.

In my defense (not that it matters a lick) it was Wednesday ...day 19 of a 21 day stretch of working without a day off. My husband has been out of work for six months and I am the only bread winner in a family of five. I have so much on my mind at any given time of the day that it is a miracle that I can be nice to anyone, much less concentrate fully on what I am doing.

Two of the managers are having a meeting with me tomorrow to talk about the shop and that is one meeting I am not looking forward to. The pressure being put on them from corporate is insane and I realize they have to address my failing report.

But after being at this store for 12 years with ONE bad shop...I feel like that is a pretty good average. Unfortunately it isn't good enough for corporate and if I go in tomorrow and lose my job over this, I may kill myself.

When you have a job like mine and a life situation like mine...it is hard to make it all work smoothly.

So these people didn't like me, they thought I rushed them (they were there for 2 hours...is THAT rushing?)

I have people that come to our store and will sit in the lobby for thirty minutes waiting for one of my tables to come open so they can have me as their server. Just tonight I had three different tables tell me what a wonderful server I was.

None of this matters when you get one bad shop.

All I can do is go into work in the morning and listen to what a bad job I did on ONE table. Although I find it hard to believe that I did ALL of the things they wrote about, it doesn't matter. I often wonder if these "shoppers" realize that they have some one's job on the line when they write their little report?

I am the only person working in our house so I just have to suck it up and step up my performance and hope that I get a GOOD shop really, really soon.

I can do this. I can take this criticism and show them that I can give flawless service even to a "A" hole. I need my job. These people got a free dinner and the opportunity to pick me to pieces. I have to shake it off and regroup. I am better than what they wrote and if it kills me I will never have another shopper's report like this. I just hope my managers give me the chance.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

My Good Luck (That's a New one)

Just got home from work. It began pouring buckets about 1 PM today and rained for several hours straight. When I got to work at three, it was a ghost town...the rain had killed the lunch business.

The rain slacked off for a while and the people trickled in.

Kudos for me, I didn't have ONE wacky table and only had one tip under 15%. They cut the floor early, only leaving us closing servers on and a few of my regulars came in and asked for me.

Sometimes I wonder if they ask for me because of my serving skills or just so they can hear my comedy routine. I always have some story about my kids or something that has happened since I last saw them. These are the tables I really enjoy, where I can be myself and joke around without the fear of being fired. These customers that ask for me every time they come in are what usually put me over the top on a shift.

I know what they want to drink before they sit down, some of them I can put the order into the computer before I ever even go to the table and some of them will sit in the lobby for up to thirty minutes if I don't have an open table.

Some people like my sense of humor...some people don't.

I have to be really careful who I joke with...especially if I have never waited on them before.

I remember one time I waited on a family of six that I had never seen before and they ended up being "Secret Shoppers." The father had ordered a cup of chili and when I went back to the table after bringing it to him he told me the chili wasn't hot. I replied smartly "That's why we call it chilly." Of course after my quick witted joke I took it back and brought him a piping hot cup and he was happy. But when the shopper's report came in and the manager asked me if I remembered waiting on them I said of course I did and told him about my snappy comeback.
The manager rolled his eyes and didn't know whether to write me up or give me a service pin for "Superb Recovery."

I know that this is just my job, but to me it is a different thing altogether. It is an ongoing experiment with society. To know which people I can joke around with, which people I can fool into thinking I really DON'T think are idiots but kindred spirits and people that I let abuse me while I put on a fake smile and mentally DARE them to find fault with my service.

It may not be brain surgery, but in my case it seems to be a honed perfection and something that I seem to be quite good at.

I heard so many of my co workers that worked the lunch AND dinner shift today saying that they didn't make squat...and I have been in their shoes a lot of the time.

But tonight the "Server Gods" smiled on me and I walked out the door with almost $200.00 in my pocket after one single shift.

I really enjoy my job...rarely despise it and thankfully only infrequently have the whole shift blow up in my face.

I really needed tonight, financially and mentally.


Gotta be back to open in the morning. I already have my "Rainy days and Mondays always Get Me Down" routine worked up for the regulars... with the rest of them I'll have to 'wing ' it .

Hope my good luck holds out!

Til next time...COTTON

I Guess I'm Just "Country"

Boy were the wack jobs out tonight! I got to work at 3:30 so I could polish and roll my silverware. At 4:00 I clocked in and got my first table. Before I got their drink order , they seated me again...then came right back with four more people. By 4:15 I had six different tables and here came two more. Just to give you an idea...at one point I had table 10, 11, 12, 13, 30, 31 ,33, 14, 24 and a table over in the bar area.

Dang, I like being busy but I was beginning to feel like I was in a Looney Tunes cartoon. Then as it always happens...two nut jobs sit down. The first comment the man made was "You sure are Kuntry."

I wasn't sure how to respond so simply said "Yes, I did grow up in the south."

Then the wife plows ahead saying she needed to order while she could still remember what her husband wanted. She ordered shrimp and lobster dip for him and a bowl of shrimp and lobster chowder. She specifically said "That is what he is having as his meal." Then she ordered a chicken salad for herself that has pepperochinni peppers, feta cheese and a balsamic vinaigrette dressing (very similar to a Greek type salad.) So per her instructions I ordered his chowder and dip to come out with her salad.

When I brought the food to the table, he said "I don't want'em both NOW."

Before I could say anything she said "Just keep'em, you'll be fine."

I came back by the table to check on them and the man complained that there wasn't enough shrimp in his chowder...the woman said she was fine with her food. I went and had more shrimp cooked to take for his chowder and when I cruised by again he said that "Now this is PERFECT."

As I was spinning circles through the dining room a manager happened to be walking by and asked if everything was okay for them. the man raved about his chowder with more free shrimp in it and the woman said her salad was terrible. Having overheard her comment, I walked over and asked what was wrong with the salad (the same one she had said was fine two minutes ago.)

She jerked her head up towards me and said "I don't have to explain to you why I don't like it."

You don't have to tell me when to leave a table.

I left the manager to kiss her butt (they are so good at it)

I stepped to the table next to them that had just been seated and greeted it. I was not two feet away from the ole bat complaining about her salad. When the manager walked away she looked at her husband and said quite loudly "I just don't like her, she's too brusk(is that a word?) and "I don't care for her attitude one bit." She went on and on while I stepped back enough that she could see I was still standing there, but her tirade about me went on and on.

The manager brought her another salad and I bit the bullet and stopped by to see if it was better. Her husband said "It's all your fault, ya know." I said (looking only at him)" Well then I sincerely apologize." He retorted that he was only kiddin and it was good now.

Out comes a different manager to cruise the dining room. he stops by their table and the man has the balls to say that his chowder was cold and it needed to be taken off the bill.

Excuse me..is this the same bowl that had free shrimp added to it that he stopped me to say how PERFECT it was now?!

The woman said since she had to wait for another salad, that should be taken off too.

Then they had the audacity to say I shot them a "look" when I walked by.

Obviously they misunderstood. I wanted to "Shoot THEM."

They went on and on with the second manager and he voided their entire meal and they walked out without leaving one thin dime. The manager said he just wanted to get them out of there.

Where is MY champion?

I'll tell you where...sitting right across from them by herself waiting for her son to join her for dinner. I had seen her looking at the entire episode out of the corner of her eye and as soon as they left called me over to her table. She asked if they had just walked out without having to pay.

She said she had listened and watched the entire time and was appalled that these two people got away with walking out full and not paying any type of bill at all. I told her I would have a few beers after work and it would be okay. She said I had a delightful personality and gave excellent service.

Lucky for me when the manager strolled back through the dining room she called him to her table and took up for me and praised my skills for not strangling idiots. (or something like that.)

She and her son left me a $16.00 tip on a fifty dollar tab.

I saved the "grifters' receipt just to have for this post. $39.54 was the bill . They both got full, didn't have to pay or tip and walked out to the tune of forty dollars plus tip.

I am so extremely grateful for the woman that came to my defense, tipped me grandly and made me remember that I really AM a good server.

This picture of me is the year I went to work on Halloween dressed as a Waffle House waitress...complete in a Waffle House uniform and black tooth. Only I could talk a Waffle House waitress into letting me borrow a uniform...the black tooth was my idea.

You know how much more crap THEY have to probably put up with on an hourly basis?

The next Halloween the store banned us from wearing costumes...but for that one day I greeted every table with "Good Morning" and called out my orders to the kitchen standing on the line I had invisibly marked on the floor.

Take the good with the bad. Shake off a bad table and proceed to make the next one happy.

Such is the life of ANY waitress.

Til next time....COTTON

Dang! That Was a Hard Few Hours

Just got home from work. Business has been so slow that none of us were prepared to work as hard as we had to tonight.

I walked in the door at 4:45 and we were already in a huge wait
God bless the eaters!

My section of tables were two six top booths and two four top booths. The hostess in charge was a woman that has been with us since opening fourteen years ago. I call her "Put'em down Patsy." She will load you up with as many tables at once as she has to to get people sitting at a table rather than staring at her wondering how much longer they have to wait. All four of my tables were open, so all four of them got seated...BAM BAM BAM BAM! Eighteen people all at once were looking at me all wanting to order first.

The thing about being seated all at once is that they are pretty much all going to finish around the same time , leave at the same time and be replaced by eighteen others at the same time.

Pretty much that was the theme for the entire night. Thank God my section was in the bar area...alcohol always buys you a couple of extra minutes.

The cooks were pumping out the food like mad men. The regional manager was there visiting and helped us out as well. Not only do I have to wait on my own tables but have to help out the entire process by running other servers food and doing side work. My side work was keeping the ice bins full..not an easy task even on a slow night. Thankfully I had a partner on side work. A healthy young athletic buck that I abused for at least a couple of hours. I began to think he might think I had forgotten where the ice machine was! It was chaos, it was bedlam...it was slap CRAZY.

After two crazy hours we seemed to slip into a groove. All my customers were really nice (maybe one or two ---holes thrown in to keep me on my toes.)

The manager that was in the window expediting the food is our manager that drinks a pot of coffee per hour. I told the regional that we didn't even make him cups of coffee anymore, just scooped out the coffee grinds from the filter used to make the last pot and let him eat it with a spoon.

My regional (a super nice guy) said I should just give him a couple of coffee beans that haven't been ground up yet and let him keep them in his cheek to "Chaw" on.

Welcome to MY world.

It is a crazy insane five hour shift that makes you feel like you have been dragged through the mud on a gravel road with briers and thorns thrown in just for fun.

My restaurant is the best I have worked for in my thirty one plus year career. We bitch at each other and gripe and moan when it is slow, but when the bombs start dropping...we all work together. From the dishwasher that barely speaks English to the cooks that are grilling in a kitchen that is over 105 degrees to the seventeen of us servers all clustered together in a fifteen foot long alley way trying to get salads, appetizers, deserts and hot food out as fast as the cooks pass it through the window to the managers having to cruise through the dining room looking calm and composed while talking to guests...even though they are thinking how in the hell can we dig out of this hole we have found ourselves in and make a superb recovery?

But you know what? We always persevere. We always manage to pull it off, we all get through it and get a paycheck and laugh about it after the storm.

Working in a busy restaurant is insane to say the least...that is probably why I love it so much. The adrenaline just pumps you up...the pressure makes you work even harder and in the end everybody wins.

I was bringing out side plates tonight after the rush and dropped a stack of them on the kitchen floor. No dishwasher likes to see you break CLEAN dishes...the dirty ones "Hey that is fewer for me to wash!"
I was apologizing to him when the manager walked into the kitchen. This is my general manager who is a managing partner, meaning he has vested money into the restaurant and therefore owns a portion of the store. He said I was apologizing to the wrong person.

I remember one time when I told Massey that he owned part of the store, she asked me what part he owned? When I told my manager that, he said to tell her he probably owned the restrooms!

All kidding aside I know he hated hearing those plates breaking and I hated doing it. Thank the Lord I think I do a pretty good job for them and they can somehow overlook an old woman dropping some plates as long as I work as hard as I do the minute I walk through the doors.

We are a team at our store. Granted we have back biting and sniping, but when push comes to shove...WE MAKE IT HAPPEN.

We did just that tonight and I walked out with a fat paycheck, sore feet and the knowledge that I can come back tomorrow and do it all again.

LOVE MY JOB...Am I crazy or WHAT?

The picture is a few of the gals at work. I will take a pic of the cooks and dishwashers tomorrow to post, since they are the ones that REALLY make it all happen.

Til next time...COTTON

How Old am I Getting...Or How Fast is Life Killing Me?

I train new hires for our restaurant. But did they throw me a curve ball yesterday!

A girl who worked at our store over ten years ago when she was sixteen as a hostess , came back to be trained a server (this is where I get dragged into it.)

A beautiful tall blond, so full of life it makes me sick (or maybe a bit jealous.)

Her enthusiasm has no bounds. She gets pumped just taking dishes to the dish pit.

She is so eager that I find myself constantly having to stop her from going too far. Her first day on the floor with me she started going up to my tables and taking orders...putting them in on the computer...some were on the wrong table, some were wrong totally and sometimes she rang an item on the wrong check. I told her that she shouldn't be waiting on tables yet, that on her fifth day of training she would work a lead shift where she waited on all my tables with me observing.

She quickly (she does everything QUICKLY) said she understood, but I felt like I had hurt her feelings. I explained that if I got 'shopped' by corporate when she waited on a table while in training, the report would come back with the name "COTTON" on it and it would be recorded in my file.

She quickly agreed and came back not five minutes later saying that we had been seated with a table again and she already had the order.

HELLO !!! ???

She was quick as well to clear off a table as soon as the guests left. She would come up and say "Here's your charge slip...nice tip." At one point I made the comment that I couldn't believe that one woman who paid cash didn't leave me a tip. She cheerfully said "Oh yeah she did, I have the money in my back pocket !"

I want to express here that I under NO circumstances think that she was trying to take my money...she was trying to help me out.

My husband and I have been going through a rough time financially and every dime counts. I just don't feel comfortable with someone picking up my pay check...and that is what tips are...my PAYCHECK.

I got extremely busy and she had rung in at LEAST four tables wrong and some of the tables I couldn't even FIND on the screen.

I was scrambling to get caught up and fix the table numbers when they seated me with the cheapest people I have ever met. I don't mean to say they were asses ...they were just incredible. They were nice enough but when the mother asked me if we charged for extra butter on a potato I knew I was in trouble.

They asked for peanuts twice...one portion for the table and one helping in a to- go bag. The (free) bread I just couldn't bring fast enough and refilling their seven waters was a full time job. They all had those tiny "Crystal Light on the Go" packets and made their own drink every time I refilled a glass.

By this point I didn't know what tables I even had or what they had ordered since my "Bubbly" trainee had done it all for me (thank YOU.)

Then as I was pre busing (clearing away all the dishes) my "El Cheapo" table started asking for to-go boxes for their bread, peanuts and anything else edible on the table.

I picked up a dish that had nothing on it but the wooden skewers that had held their Kebobs together (the cheapest item on our menu.) I remarked to the woman "Are you through with his dish?"

She hastily replied "NO.. I want to keep those wooden skewers for when I have to test a cake."

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Does this woman not have toothpick in her entire house ?

These things are about ten inches long and have been stuck through a piece of raw meat...cooked and handled and then you want to take them home to test a freakin' cake?

At this point my trainee came up to me frantically saying that she had to leave because she had driven her boyfriend's car and he was selling it and had someone coming by to look at it.

I said "PLEASE...just go do what you have to do."

She made the remark "I am soooo glad they put me with you...you can fix anything that I screw up... You are the BEST waitress EVER !!!!!!"

After cleaning the ten dirty tables that she left me with and doing my sidework it took me an hour and a half to get out of there. She is supposed to be my "GRUNT" She is supposed to be doing these things for ME not the other way around!

So I went to a meeting this morning at the store at 8:45 after collapsing last night after my grueling shift with the most excited person I have ever met (and that means a LOT coming from someone like me.)

I came home from the meeting about 11:00 and jumped on my John Deere (after jump starting it from my car) and cut grass for three hours. Hopped off the lawn mower and took Massey to Barnes and Noble. I got to the shopping center but just felt light headed and confused. I passed Barnes and Noble and remarked "Why are we at Big Buys?" Massey said it was Best Buys and why did I go past Barnes and Noble?

I told her I was glad we were in a parking lot.

South Atlanta...it is brutal for June. When I cut the grass today we had a heat index of 104 degrees.
The heat doesn't normally bother me, but I knew that the broiling sun had taken its toll.

We chilled out in Barnes and Noble for a while while I looked at books...I could do that for hours, but felt it best to go home and rest.

I rested for an hour before I had to go to work. I still felt weird but knew once I got back with my excited trainee I would feel weird anyway.

My mind just wasn't working. I was talking to a table about our newest items pictured in our promo menu. I told them about a couple of them and when I came to the pic of the lobster tail paired with a filet , I said tapping the picture..."You can get our filet with a ...ummm.. once again tapping the picture of the lobster...uhh...tapping the picture again and said unexpectedly "What do you call these?"

The customer looked up at me and said questionably "Lobster?"

I responded a bit too quickly "YES" !!

I then had to explain to them that I felt a little strange... had spent the last three hours out in the sun and just felt a little off. I assured them that I had no part in preparing their meal...but felt like I could do my job successfully without having to ask THEM anymore questions.

It is brutal here south of the "Hotlanta."

I drink water all day long, but today has reminded me of how humidity, heat ...stress and anxiety can really affect (or is it effect ?) you.

When you work in a high stress job (many people would think I am whining...but YOU try it) and you are crashing into fifty while most of your co workers are plowing carelessly into their twenties, it's not only hard to keep up...it's hard to make yourself viable as a good role model, much less feel good about yourself as you walk out the door to not go out and party but go home to your family.

All in all I am a lucky person, it is just that these young adults wear me out and tend to make me feel even older . HEY!! Isn't that MY kids job?

Darn That Stripper!!

Just got home from work..threw in a load of clothes to dry, helped my son bake his "Toads in the Hole" for international day at school tomorrow and sat down to type.

I waited on the nicest family tonight. The economy has struck hard at our store, tips are WAY down and I have to struggle to make in 6 hours what I used to make in four. The night went okay...could have been better but certainly could have been worse.

My last table was a family of six...Mom, Dad and four teens. They were very nice and extremely easy to please.

When I offered dessert they said they had a birthday cake back at the house. I asked who's birthday it was and they all pointed at dad...who immediately pointed at the others. I ordered our little hot fudge sundae that we give to customers on their birthday and took it out to dad. I told him happy birthday and said "I am SOO sorry, the stripper is off on Wednesday night...prayer meeting at the church. You know we ARE in the Bible Belt".

They all cracked up (even the mom, thank goodness). The man asked me how long I had been serving and I told him for 31 years. He asked how I always kept a smile on my face and a good attitude. I told him I went to college, got my PHD in BS and put it right to use. His kids really liked THAT one!

In my line of work it is a game of averages...some days are downright terrible and other days people seem to be throwing money at me. I just persevere and hope it all averages out in the long run and you know what? It usually always does.

On another work note, I got my sister a paint job ...she is an excellent interior painter and has painted my entire house.

A bartender who works with me (putting her Emory degree to good use) is married with three small children. My sister is painting her front entrance hall.

Let's call this girl I work with "Rebekah".

She is one of the best and most patient moms I have ever met and the result is three terrific kids.

My sister smooths out rough spots as she goes and uses a putty knife to scrap off excess Spackle, keeping the putty knife in her back pocket.

My friend's little girl, probably around three...followed my sister as she painted constantly saying "Are you through yet"? My sister told her at one point "Now I am going to paint the wall RIGHT outside of YOUR bedroom"!!

My sister said this little girl looked up sweetly at her , eyes wide open and said enthusiastically "THANK YOU"!! While painting outside of ....let's call her "Trinity"'s room, she pulled her putty knife out of her back pocket and Trinity said "Why do you have that sword in your pocket"?

God, I miss those days of a young child's interpretation and reasoning.

I remember when my daughter was about the same age she got a doctor's kit from Santa. She wanted me to play doctor with her so I stretched out on the sofa and said "Doctor, I don't feel too good...will I live"? She gave me a serious look and replied "Yes...you will live with your family". I laughed so hard it made her mad.

It's like the time my middle son asked me when he was in fourth grade or so..."If I ask you a question, will you promise to tell me the truth"? I told him I would, then he proceeded to ask me if Santa was real. I asked him if he wanted the truth...he nodded and I told him that Santa wasn't real.

He looked at me for a couple of stunned seconds and then bluntly said "You mean it's all just a BIG FAT LIE"??

After composing myself, I told him it was for smaller children and that in fact the spirit of Santa is what matters most. After crushing him (although I found out later his older brother had already done that without my knowledge and THAT'S where the question came from) he forgave me and asked immediately if he could tell his little sister (the doctor).

Thankfully he let his little sister continue believing the "BIG FAT LIE" for a number of years.

Kids are such a blessing, such a learning experience and a tremendous joy. The stories I have of my kids could fill a book and would certainly be a best seller.

As two have turned into teens and one into a young adult, they still fill me with immense pleasure and pride...even when they screw up.

Til next time...COTTON

Home From My "Marketing" Job

Just blew in the door after a WONDERFUL night at work (Seriously).

With the economy, I have taken a big hit in the paycheck. People just don't eat out like they used to and even when they do, they tip a LOT less these days. I think some people don't realize that I make $2.13 and hour and I NEVER see one penny of that because they take taxes out on what I claim for tips. I claim EVERY penny I make mainly because when you go to buy a house or even a car...would you rather show that you make $20K or $40K ? Also we were audited a couple of years back. The IRS said I had two kids when I have three.

It took three months of faxing records and documents to the IRS to prove that I was right and they were wrong.

Did they reimburse me for all the faxing and overnight mailings? I don't think so!

It was more like an "OH YEAH...YOU DO HAVE THREE KIDS...OUR BAD".

ANY HOO... tonight was a banner night. I got my butt kicked from the time I walked in the door until I clocked out.

I had one table that stayed for almost four hours. A birthday dinner for a guy in his thirties. They ordered Jagermeister shooters, lots of beer and had a good ole "Throw down". They closed out one tab (tipped me GREAT) and thirty minutes later started another tab. When I brought their round of drinks (they had a designated driver) the birthday boy said "Gracias" to which I replied "Da Nada...mi amigo". He said "Habla Espanol"?? I quickly came back with "Hell yeah...who do you think is back there cooking your food"?? I told him I had learned more Spanish working in the restaurant industry than I did in all of my schooling (which included Spanish lessons from grade 4 through 12).

They LOVED me...and thankfully showed me their love on their charge slip!

Moving on to the next good table!

My wonderful sis came in with two of her good friends..sat and had delicious salmon salads with our awesome "house" dressing...lemon , oil, mustard with crushed green olives, diced tomatoes and a hint of garlic (just to brag a bit).

They were seated really near the kitchen (anyone else would have complained).

When they went to leave, my sister's friend...facing our dish pit as she gave me a hug said "Be careful over there, the floor looks really wet".

I told her not to worry, the floors were treated with a non slip coating. She said "REALLY"??

I shot back "Oh yeah, I could go do a cart wheel in the dish pit".

As another server walked by, I handed him the coffee pot I had in my hand and said "Hey Rob...hold this for me while I go do a cart wheel in the dish pit".

As all the young people that I work with do...he obligingly obeyed me and took the pot from my hand and carried on (although glancing over his shoulder to see if I would really do it).

The dish pit is the worst place in the house (for obvious reasons) but I have often told my co workers...if you DO fall in the dish pit, I don't care if you break a vertebrae...between the grime on the floor and the humiliation of falling, you are up in a flash stating "YEAH, I'm okay".

Tonight was a glorious night...everything ran smooth, the peeps loved me and showered me with their monetary praise.

Tomorrow could be a completely different story.

That is the only downfall of being a server...YOU CAN'T COUNT ON BANKING EVERY SINGLE SHIFT!!

I truly believe in my heart that I excel at my job and it will all even out in the end run if I give every shift my best effort...and I genuinely try to do just that.

It "IS" sales and marketing... and I enjoy it almost too much.

I make people enjoy having me as their server and in return...they come in and specifically ask for my table.

It's like I have my own comedy club that I don't have to pay overhead on!!

Of course I know WHO to joke with and WHO to kow tow to...and I can kiss butt when I have to...It is part of the job.

But the good ALWAYS outweighs the bad (so far) and I enjoy what I do for a living ALMOST too much.

It is just in my personality and persona...I think I was meant to be on stage SOMEWHERE...I am just not sure where........YET!!!!

You ordered chopped steak...but what am I ? Chopped Liver?

I ran a plate of food to a table the other night at work. It went to a pretty young guy...sitting by himself. I sat the chop steak down and he began to explode.

"I ORDERED this WITHOUT onions, I told her I didn't want onion!!". I replied calmly that I would take it back and that it would be no problem to bring him the correct steak.

The young waitress that had taken his order told me that the man wanted to see me, and I told her to tell him I wasn't there. She replied that he could see that I was still there...I guess my two inch spiked hair and Melanoma inducing dark tan gave me away.

After her saying that he was still asking to see me, she said that she thought he wanted to apologize .

I approached the table hesitantly, and told him that I was almost scared to come back to his table.

He said that as soon as I had walked off from his table he had felt terrible about the way he had spoken to and treated me.

I gently patted him on the shoulder and said "Don't worry about it...as soon as I turned to walk away, I called you an ass hole in my head".

Let me inject here that I KNOW what customers I can joke with, and this young guy actually found me quite humorous.

He said "Did you really"? I said "no", and then said "Yeah, I really did." But I told him that I had been a server for thirty years, and he would be pressed to a point to insult me...I had heard it all by this stage in my career. I told him that it was our fault his order was wrong and that I was sorry he had been served the wrong food.

He ended up leaving the server a ten dollar tip on a fifteen dollar meal.

Sometimes you just have to stand up and say "What am I?...Chopped Liver"?

For Pete's sake...it's a piece of meat!! It is not like that was the last piece of Chopped Steak left on the planet.

We made him happy in the end, and I made him laugh at not only himself, but at me as well.

Granted you can't treat every person this way, but I pick and choose carefully who I joke with...and he took it exceptionally well.

I believe it was one of my finer moments as a server....don't you?

Till next time COTTON