I have been working as a food server off and on since I was fourteen and it never gets any less interesting. This is not about fine dining, its about the flip side of the industry working in the trenches of the massive national restaurant chains. Laugh or cry, people!



Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Do You Have a Red Straw?

All of the chains like the one I work at are family-friendly.  We all have high chairs, booster seats, kid menus, kid cups… and in our case, different colored straws for the kids to fight over.  I’ve seen kids actually hit each other to get the blue straw.  Sometimes they lunge at me to get the handful of straws so they can choose their own color.  Sometimes they scream at each other (You know red is MY favorite color, not yours!).  Sometimes they cry when they have to drink out of the wrong color. 

Sometimes their parents leave the table to come request a different colored straw for them.

I personally don’t think this kind of indulgent bullshit makes it any easier to eat out with your children.  I’m actually used to it now, so when parents leave the table to come talk to me while I’m trying to enter their order, I assume it’s about changing straw colors.  So when I saw this strange one approaching, I automatically checked my pocket to ensure my assortment was there.

Her:     Do you have any other straws?  (She’s holding a yellow straw)

Me:      Yes.  Do you need a different color?

Her:     Well… Do you have any red straws?

Me:      Yes I do.  Here you go! (I hand her a red straw)

Her:     Well…  I’m actually looking for a straw exactly like this one (she holds up the red straw to show me), except its smaller and thinner and slanted on the end and bendy.  (She makes intense eye contact to make sure I understand her description and that I am taking her request seriously).

Me:      That sounds like a juice box straw.

Her:     Sort of.  Do you have any straws like that?

Me:      As far as I know, those only come on juice boxes.

Her:     Well, usually.  I just thought you might have some…

Me:      I’m sorry; we don’t have juice boxes or juice box straws.

Her:     (Dejected) Um… ok then. 

She heads back to her table of screaming heathens with her shoulders slumped.

  I turn to the server next to me and say, “Do you have any of those bionic straws that drink the beverage for you?  Or could you maybe clock out on break and go to the grocery store to buy me a juice box?  Or maybe you could just steal the straw off one and bring it to me?”

Other Server:   Maybe you could just offer to BREAST FEED her son and save yourself a trip.

Me:      WOULD I STILL HAVE TO CLOCK OUT ON BREAK?

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