Anonymous Postings

Sorry everyone - the anonymous postings are by me but I was having a little trouble making sure my real name doesn't show up on any posts. I have it figured out now and you can contact me by posting comments or emailing me at pancakegrrrl@gmail.com

Got Grrrl Trouble?

MOD:   Do you know you forgot the French dressing for table #23?

Me:      Can you get it?  I’m in the weeds.

MOD:   Sure, but… is everything ok?  You only have two tables.

Me:      I’M SORRY I’M NOT PERFECT BUT I’M TRYING TO MAKE A FUCKING MALT RIGHT NOW!!!!! (near tears).

MOD:   Uh…

Me:      I’m having a really shitty period, ok?  I’ve had the same monster cramp for ten minutes and I can barely feel my left leg, so can you take out the fucking French dressing for the fucking salad at the fuckface table OR NOT?!?!

MOD:   Ok, but after that outburst I’m not sure I believe this red-looking sauce is actually salad dressing.  Should I just pretend I know for sure?

Me:      You should buy some fucking Luminol and come play hide-n-seek in the parking lot.  I’m going outside to smoke.

You Almost Got to Keep Those

Today I had a four-top order dessert during a busy lunch. That is not a problem.  I don’t mind getting desserts for my guests.  I want to.  It makes my guest check higher, increases the amount of service I have provided, makes the dining out experience more rewarding, etc,. It generally means a larger tip because the guest is not in a hurry to get back to work – they are enjoying themselves.

Today, I came back to a four-top with meticulously prepared desserts – a strawberry malt, a caramel sundae, and two slices of warm pie ala-mode to find a grumpy businessman halfway out of his booth with a shitty attitude.  “You almost got to keep those,” he said. 

I was stunned.  Things had been going so well.  They were witty, charming, and polite all through lunch.  I didn’t understand why he seemed so irritated.

“Excuse me?” I replied.

“You almost got to keep those,” he said.  “We thought you weren’t coming back.”

FYI not all restaurants have the kitchen make or plate desserts. Where I work, the servers make the deserts including the hand-dipped shakes.  So if your four-top all orders different desserts during a busy lunch rush, I will probably not be back with those in less than ten minutes. 

When I do show up with dessert, it’s pretty shitty to tell me, “You almost got to keep those.  We thought you were never coming back.” 

Really, that’s what you thought?  You thought I just took your order with a smile and never intended on coming back to your table?  Where would I go?  Did you think my private helicopter picked me up to whisk me away to my private island?  Or did you actually see me delivering food to other tables, getting refills, bringing people their checks, entering orders into the computer system, seating new people, and running the cash register?

I diplomatically replied, “I’m sorry you thought I wasn’t coming back.  The servers prepare the desserts here and I brought them as soon as I could. I apologize for any inconvenience.”

He grudgingly settled back into his booth and ate all of his $4 dessert.  He left me a grand total of 10%, which was probably a write-off as a business expense.  I wonder what he does for a living.

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?

We're Going to Share That

One of my favorite couples was in tonight.  And when I say “favorite,” I mean they really are not.  These people are seriously crazy.  I started waiting on them about six months ago and I remember everything about them.

With many of my regulars, this is a compliment.  They are pleasant to be around, specific about what they would like, I reciprocate accordingly, and they leave me tips in the 30% range because I remember the details.  It works well for all of us.

These are not they type of regular I am referring to.  These people are seriously strange and I remember them for being strange.  They are an older couple and the first time I waited on them, they brought in two teenagers who were obviously their grandsons.  They made them order water and then split 2 breakfasts between the four of them. 

I’m not saying its bad to be frugal, but its embarrassing in a public dining situation when its obviously the main thing you care about.  I have never seen those kids with them again and I understand their viewpoint.  Why offer to take your grandkids out to eat and then put them through that?

Well, of course there is more to it.

They always share.  Sometimes it takes them 15 minutes to agree on what single item they will share.  They question me about these menu items extensively and seriously.  I answer in the exact same spirit, when I have time.  I understand it is their money to spend how they choose and with the restaurant they choose.  We do not charge for splitting plates but I always have the cook split and plate their entrée right down the middle so they will enjoy their meal without having to spoon half of their food onto the extra plate we provide free of charge.

They have questions about coupons. 

1. Can they use a coupon and still get a senior discount?  (No, this is considered two discounts and you can only use one). 
2. Can they use an expired coupon? (No, we do not accept expired coupons.)
3. Can they use a coupon on a special we are running? (No, this is already a discounted item).

In the end, if they have coupons, they choose to use them even if another discount would be more advantageous.  Every time, no matter how I explain it to them.  So I don’t explain price differences to them anymore, I simply tell them if their coupon applies or not accordingly.  When it comes to coupons, they are not strange for using them, but for being obsessive about using them.

And again, of course there is still more to the story.

They always order water.  Lots of people just ask for water.  That’s OK.  Plenty of people just drink water when they eat out.  I do it too and I don’t really have a problem with it.  They want their water in a large glass with a slice of lemon and no ice, no straw.  OK, but aren’t we getting pretty specific for a free beverage I can’t even put on your bill?  It’s difficult to convey, but the way they say it when they order, I feel like I might mess up something right from the get-go.  And we’re still on water.

When they finally come to a consensus about the entrée they will be sharing, the gentleman always gives me a meaningful look and says, “We need extra napkins.”  Again, its difficult to convey, but he says it accusingly, as if I have already neglected him in some way.

Here’s the super-weird thing.  If a guest has good table manners, they often place the napkin in their lap or on their knee.  If they know they’ve ordered something messy or know they are usually messy, they might ask for another.

This couple spreads their first napkin (the one their flatware is rolled in) out on the table where their plate will go.  Like a placemat, only it unfolds into a giant square shape instead of the traditional rectangular placemat most of us are used to seeing.  They sit across from one another and their giant, paper-thin napkin-placemats overlap.  I can think of no reason to do this. 

As far as I can tell, and believe me I have thought about this, the placemat napkin serves no purpose other than to set their plate on while they eat and use the extra napkins I’ve brought to wipe their fingers/faces on.  I’m not kidding.  They seem to want extraneous napkins to rest the plates on.  And before you say it, they are not resting their flatware on this extra placemat napkin to prevent it from touching the table… I’ve checked.  And by the way, if you are so worried about the germs in the establishment where you are eating that you cannot allow the flatware to touch the table, you might be in the wrong place.

But again, that’s not what this couple is doing.  They seem to not want their plates to touch the table… I have met plenty of obsessive-compulsives, but a couple completely in-synch about this kind of weird shit…. Only one.

I Love Mexican Line Cooks

You might hear a lot of people complain about illegal immigrants in this country, but you won’t hear a lot of that from the wait staff in a busy restaurant.

I really love the Mexican line cooks where I work.  I am completely blown away by their ability to work two jobs and have families and hold up under pressure.  I have seen them come in for their shift and hit the ground running after working a complete shift at their other job.  They are rarely mean-spirited no matter how exhausted they must be.

These guys blow me away with their work ethic.  They try to come to work no matter what.  If they can’t come to work, they get one of their buddies to cover for them without being asked.  One time, one of our best guys had to go out of town for a family emergency and a Mexican we had never met showed up with his apron and hat to cover his shift.

I once had another server come get me because the Mexican working on the line wouldn’t respond to her request.  When I went to try, I couldn’t get his attention either.  I stepped around the line to get her extra sauce myself and discovered he was standing over the grill flipping pancakes while perfectly asleep. I had to shake his shoulder to wake him up. How tired does a man have to be before he cooks in his sleep?  Amazing.

Some of them speak English beautifully and understand the language better than a lot of us.  Some of them barely understand anything we say and seem to have been taught to memorize how to read the tickets rather than comprehend the intricacies of the English language.  I have acted out pantomimes to explain complicated tickets and more often than not gotten exactly what I ordered.

I come from a working class family in an era when America still manufactured our own goods.  I remember my father coming home from work filthy and red-eyed and barely able to stay awake to wash up for dinner.  He used to fall asleep in his chair while I unlaced his boots. 

I don’t know a lot of guys who work like that anymore.  Guys who work as many hours as they can no matter the hourly rate.  Uneducated men who appreciate the opportunity to work in whatever capacity they can.  People can say a lot of things about illegal immigrants but you can’t question their work ethic. 

Who among you would risk your life walking through a desert for three days with no food or water to make minimum wage working 18 hour days six days a week?

I Meant to Order my Salad Without Tomato

You are not going to like this.  This is one of the things I’m truly an asshole about.

If you order a salad from me and you are already a picky asshole or just an asshole to me in general and you don’t think to ask me what comes on our dinner salads, you might just be shit out of luck.

I have eaten at a lot of restaurants and I’ve never encountered one where the salad was simply lettuce drowned in the dressing of my choice.

If you ask me for a dinner salad, I will gladly make and bring you one however you ask me to (to the best of my ability).

If you intended to have your dressing on the side… but forgot to say that, or if there are specific ingredients you intended to omit… but forgot to tell me.  Well, I just hope you didn’t catch me on one of those nights.

If your idea of a salad is iceberg lettuce drowned in ranch dressing and nothing else and you expect me to pick through the lettuce mix for you and make this happen… You might be fucked.

If you don’t like cucumbers and you didn’t tell me, you might have to touch them.

For anything else you don’t like but didn’t specify, see above.

If you have made me very angry on a very irritating shift where nothing is going right and it seems to be mostly your fault, I will respond in a cheerful manner that you will have difficulty finding fault with.  This will hopefully irritate you as much as you have irritated me.

YOU:        I meant to order my salad without (insert ingredient).

ME:           Oh, that’s never a problem here.  You can order your salad however you like. Just let us know ahead of time and we’ll prepare it exactly as you prefer!

And then I walk away, leaving you with IT.  Sorry about your communication skills and your assholishness (a word I invented for you).