Tuesday, October 23, 2007

I won't post about serving tomorrow, I promise

Uhhm, so, I almost got myself fired last night.

Okay, so the story’s not all that exciting, but here it is anyway.

I had a four table section in the second dining room and, because we were short staffed, an eight table section in smoking. Being Monday night, it wasn’t exceptionally busy, but we got a decent crowd in for dinner. I already had a couple tables down when the hostess seated a seven top in the smoking section. Mostly kids.

Yes, some people think it’s cool to sit with their kids in the smoking section. But that's not today’s rant.

Since there were five small children at the table, I asked the hostess not to seat me again for a few minutes because the presence of small children at the table generally adds two minutes per child to the ordering time:

Mom: (to kid) What would you like to drink?
Kid: I want Coke.
Mom: No Coke. How about chocolate milk?
Kid: I hate chocolate milk.
Mom: Please sit back down in your chair.
Kid: I want Coke!
Mom: I’m not ordering you soda. It’s almost bed time.
Kid: Coke!
Mom: You can have chocolate milk.
Kid: Co. Ca. Cola!
Mom: Let go of your sister’s hair. Chocolate milk or nothing.
Kid: Fine!
Mom: (to me, standing patiently beside the table) He’ll have chocolate milk.

Repeat scenario once per child.

(Here's where it gets boring. But it's called a set-up. Like the long, boring parts in sci-fi shows, where you're just picking up clues and backstory and waiting for the action.)

After I finally got the drink order for the seven top, I swung back by my other section to check on my guests and discovered that the hostess had sat me anyway. And not once, but twice. I picked up the drink orders for the new tables, being informed by one that someone else would be joining them, and headed into the kitchen for the drinks. I asked another server to drop off coffees and sweet teas in the second dining room while I went back to the seven top with bread and their drinks and got their order.

Before I put the order in, I stopped back in the second dining room, dropped off a couple checks, and checked on the two tables just sat. One wasn’t ready to order. The other was still waiting for their guest.

I put the seven top's order in and came back to the dining room where the third guest had finally joined her party. I greeted her, got her drink order, and since they weren’t ready to order food yet, I told them I’d be back. I took the order from my other table (who was ready) and put it in before coming back with the drink and finally getting the order from the three top. I came back out to the dining room with pitchers and coffee pots, refilled all my guests (including the three top) in the second, brought boxes for people who were getting ready to leave, and then went to my tables in smoking, where I had been sat again.

They gave me a drink order, asked about the soup and specials and for bread, but weren’t ready to order. They were ready when I came back, so I took their order and left to put it in. As soon as I was finished, the seven top’s food was ready in the window. I gathered all their requested condiments, asked for a couple followers, and took the food to their table. They needed more napkins and some extra dressings, which I brought right away.

When I came back into the kitchen, someone else was walking out the door with one of my trays – for the two top – but the three top wasn’t up yet, and since this was the first moment since refilling drinks I’d had, I started setting up a plate of bread to take to the three top. Just then my manager came back and said that the three top “requested your presence.”

(So here's the "action." No flying or bolts of lightning flying out of anyone's hand. No bending time - though that would have been helpful)

At this point, it had been at most, at the very, very most, fifteen minutes since I had taken that table’s order (and I refilled their drinks once after the order went in). Here is the conversation:

Woman who came in last: Where have you been?
Me: (setting down bread and plates on the table) Uhm, I’m sorry, ma’am, I have a large part-
Woman: (interrupting) You’ve left us sitting here for thirty minutes.
Me: I’m sorry, ma’am. But it hasn’t been thirty-
Woman: We had to get someone else to refill our drinks.
Me: I do apologize, ma’am. I have several other tables and a large par-
Woman: (interrupting, again, and gesturing toward the manager who is standing at the next table over) He told us you were at a large party.
Me: Yes, ma’am. Their food came up and I was-
Woman: Well, you just walked away and left us.
Me: Ma’am, I had food to bring out and another –
Woman: You didn’t even come back to refill our drinks for over thirty minutes.
Me: I do apologize, but I just took your order fifteen –
Woman: Are you telling me it hasn’t been over thirty minutes?
Woman’s father: I think she is.
Me: (trying to change the subject) Ma’am your food should be up any –
Woman: Are you going to tell me it hasn’t been thirty minutes?
Woman's father: Of course she is.
Me: Ma'am, I have five other tables, including a party of sev-
Woman: I don't know what you were doing, but it shouldn't take you thirty minutes.
Me: Ma’am, I apologize if it seemed like I was gone -
Woman: It was thirty minutes.
Me: I apologize. Can I bring you -
Woman: Are you going to continue telling me it hasn’t been thirty minutes?
Me: Are you going to continue to be rude to me?

Yep.

There it was.

She said, “Excuse me?!” And I walked away before I said something really stupid. Or threw lightning at her. She turned around and grabbed the manager who was still at the table beside them.

In the kitchen, I checked their ticket time. It had been seventeen minutes since I put it in.

When the manager came back, I apologized to him and asked told him I understood he was probably going to send me home.

“Hell no,” he said. “I heard everything. She was being a bitch.”

I calmed myself down, checked on my smoking tables, and came back to the window, where the three top’s food had just come up. I got it ready and ran it out to them.

And I apologized. I didn’t say I was sorry (because I wasn’t), but that I apologized. I asked them if they needed anything else. Perhaps some refills (because for the third time in twenty minutes they had sucked down twenty ounces of liquid). Then I dropped off their check. Showing the time they ordered.

I brought back refills, asked them how everything was, and apologized again. The woman said thank you and for the rest of their meal, they were all extremely polite.

At the end of their meal, I brought them to go boxes and welcomed them to join us again.

The manager said he would back me up if they decided to complain, but they tipped me eighteen percent. So I don't think they will.

Still, I felt bad about it all night. I mean, she was wrong, but I never lose my cool with a guest. And I have had some awful guests. I didn’t understand why I reacted that way. The rest of my tables were doing fine. I wasn’t in the weeds. I was having a pretty good night. I wasn’t anywhere near the end of my rope or the last straw or whatever.

I just suddenly couldn’t take this woman being so incredibly demeaning.

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