Dear First of the Monthers,
Thank you all for coming to eat at Pizza Place. I was really excited to have some business today after the last week or so was more dead than the rat that has been rotting in our air vents. It wasn't until I got a good look at everyone sitting in the dining room that I consciously realized, "Fuck me, it's the first of the month, God damn it!" You're much like my Aunt Flo, you visit monthly, annoy me for a week, give me cramps, then disappear. I loved answering your questions about how much every item on the menu costs. If you could have just bothered yourself by looking at the menu (just like I did when I didn't know the price of some of the items), you would have known the answer. Why do it yourself when you have a servant, er, server I mean, to do it for you, right? I wouldn't want you to strain yourself, precious. You are so great, I didn't mind standing there for 10 minutes answering your questions then waiting on you to decide when you insisted you were ready.
(Me:"I'll give you a few minutes to decide."
Woman:"No,no,no, don't go anywhere. We're ready. Ummmm, hmmmm. Well, I'll have, uhhhhhhh. I've got it. Ohh wait, I didn't even see over here where it says you have sandwiches too. "
Me:"It's not a problem. I'll give you just a couple of minutes and I'll be right back to get your...."
Woman:"No, I've got it. I would like a small pizza with pepperoni."
Me:"Great choice, and what can I get for you, sir?"
Man:"Well, I was wanting pizza, but she got a small one and that's not going to be enough for both of us....uhhhhh, so now I don't know."
Woman:"Well, we can just get a bigger one if that's what you want, honey. I just thought you were going to get spaghetti. What other sizes do you have?"
Me:"We also have medium, large, extra large, and our 30" party pizza."
Woman:"Well, what do you want to do honey? Do you want to get a bigger pizza, or we could keep the small one to share and then get a salad or appetizer or both and share those too."
Man:"I don't know. It's up to you. Just get whatever you want.")
By this time, I'm about to grab a butter knife off of the table and just start sawing at my neck until I hit the carotid. I look around and see that almost every other table in the restaurant is seated with other first of the monthers that need waited on. I was extremely relieved, after some humming and hawing of course, when you finally decided to get a bigger pizza, salad, and an app. At least I could then move on to the next table that was going to be pretty much just like you.
While I was standing there waiting on you to decide, I noticed a few things about you. You're dirty. The both of you. Your hands were black and you had dirt and grease spots all over you like you had been working on vehicles all day. How can that be when you're receiving welfare or social security? (No, I'm not just assuming. I overheard some of their conversation, and they were definitely receiving a government check.) Even your baby was dirty, just not as scroungy as you. Also, there was a definite stench of piss wafting around your table. At first I thought it was the baby's diaper, but then I realized that the smell was far too robust than what a baby would produce. I do believe, sir and madam, that one of you had pissed yourself. There's no excuse for that, unless you're wasted or just laughed a little too hard. How about you take the money from the tip you didn't leave, go to the dollar store, and buy some soap. What really got to me was that you were using the napkin holder on the table as your own personal tissue box. Thanks for trumpeting your nose at the table in front of the, albeit few, decent people who had unknowingly came out for lunch on the first of the month. You all really keep it classy.
By the way, that was a really funny game you played with me when I brought out your salad and apps, and then again when I brought out your pizza. I asked if I could get you anything, and then instead of telling me you wanted 6 extra ranches; more crackers; two extra straws(God knows why); a cup of marinara; four more clean plates (6 total), so that you could each have one for each of the items you ordered; and two more fresh cups of soda, just in case you might need them. You had me make 12 trips. Then you had me do a repeat performance for each of your boxes and to-go cups for the extra sodas you never drank. Even though I asked if you if you were sure you only needed one box and you said, "Uh, yeah, one container for....my....salad.". Thanks for saying that last part slow enough for me to understand. Those are very complicated words. I'm only a servant, after all.
I longed for you after you left. I know, you were in a hurry to get to Wallow-Mart to buy the ridiculously expensive things you can't afford, and will be returning/pawning in two weeks anyway. Lucky for me, I had the explosion of crumbs and snot rags on the table and floor and your unmistakable odor wafting in the air long after you had gone. Just so you know. I pretty much repeated this entire letter with almost every one of the other 28 tables that I waited on today. See you all again tomorrow, and the rest of the week, until Friday when you have ran out of money and are counting out change to me to pay your bill.
Longing for you already,
BoW
Showing posts with label deadbeat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deadbeat. Show all posts
Monday, July 1, 2013
Friday, June 28, 2013
Kitchen Soap Operas
Late post tonight because my family has spent the evening mourning Boston. No, I don't mean the Boston Marathon attacks. I'm talking about the passing of our 17 year old Boston Terrier named Boston. Totally original name, right? He was our baby before we had kids, and he will be forever missed. In his memory, I'm going to bitch about what Boston hated most in life, people. I felt a kinship with him in that sense. In his later years, he would bite a person just for walking past him. He bit my kids A LOT. No worries, though. By the time our kids came along, his teeth had long fallen out. He was a grumpy old bastard, but we loved him.
Today I'm not going to complain about customers. I'm going to instead bitch about co-workers. It's bad when your co-workers have pissed you off more than a day's worth of needy asshole customers. There is one cook, we'll call her Ethel. She is in my official "Top 10" the biggest fucking bitches I've been forced to continuously deal with.
At Pizza Place, we have to make all the apps. and salads going to the dining room. We have three fryers. Two sit beside the small freezer where the apps. are stored. The other one sits clear across the kitchen. The kitchen is small, but has a shit ton of freezers, refrigerators, ovens, and fryers. So, it's like a maze walking to the apps freezer then across the kitchen to the third fryer. If you're in a hurry, the other cooks won't say a word when you use the two fryers that are closest. Yet, Ethel considers them "her" fryers. The third fryer across the kitchen and through the corn maze belongs to the server's, in her mind anyway. I usually just go ahead and walk the few extra steps. I just don't want to hear her mouth.
Once, a few weeks ago, I had a table of 30 and there was no one to split it with. I was stuck with it by myself. Of course, they all wanted apps. and salads, which are my responsibility to make. I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get their drinks, apps., and salads out before their entrees were ready. My plan was to drop all of their apps. While they were cooking, I was going to make all of the salads then get the apps. out of the fryer. One fryer can only hold so much at a time. I filled up the third fryer, but it didn't fit all of the apps. that I needed. The store manager told me to go use one of the other ones. So, I went back over to use one of the two of "her" fryers. She saw me heading toward it and stepped in front of me. "You need to use your fryer over there.", she snapped at me. I retort, "Well, Lazylardass told me to use this one because I have a big table, and all their apps. wouldn't fit in that fryer." She glares at me and rudely says, "Well, I don't care what Lazylardass said. You can't use my fryer, because I need it." She didn't. She didn't use it for the next ten minutes, well past when I would have been done with it. Believe me, I checked. She's the crew leader, so what can I really do. I can tell the store manager that she said she didn't care what he said. So, that's what I did. I tattled on her like a little crybaby. Oh well. I didn't even feel bad about it because of all of the cooks I've seen her get fired just because she didn't really like them.
This leads me to today. There was a lady cook that hadn't been working with us that long, we'll call her Jan. She was a nice lady if you took the time to actually talk to her. She was kind of shy and backward. She wouldn't speak unless spoken to, and you would have to actually have to ask her continuous questions to hold a conversation with her. By me taking the time to talk to her, I learned that both of her adult sons are in prison. Her sons had wives and kids. The wives were more useless than Jan's sons. When the sons went to prison, the wives packed the kids up and took them to Jan's house. They dumped their little ones with "Grandma" and said, "See you when I see you!" This lady had a lot of personal problems, but I never heard her complain. She never called off even though she was now responsible for her four grandchildren, nor was she late. Ethel never took the time to find out about this woman. Ethel saw Jan was quiet and deemed her as "weird". Ethel decided within a couple of hours that she did not like this woman. At that moment, it was decided. Jan's employment with Pizza Place was going to be brief. Ever since that day, Ethel has nit picked everything Jan has done. Jan could not do anything right in Ethel's eyes. If Jan swept the cooler, Ethel would decide she missed a spot and make Jan re-do it. If Jan made a pizza, Ethel would decide that it didn't look right/didn't have enough toppings/had too many toppings, and Jan would have to re-make it. If Jan stocked the pizza bar, Ethel would decide everything was in the wrong place, and make Jan re-organize it. You get it. I guess today Ethel realized that her snide remarks nor the extra work piled on Jan were going to make her quit. Ethel decided to stoop even lower today than her usual hunched-back self. No, today was the day Ethel stooped so low that her knuckles drug the ground as she walked. Everyone, including Ethel, knew that Jan HAD to be out of work at exactly 4, at the very latest. Jan had to be out at that certain time because she only had childcare for her grandchildren until then. If something needed to be done, she didn't care to come in later, but the daycare she used closed at 5pm. Ethel in in charge of giving everyone their "outs". "Outs" are the work one needs to get done before one can leave work. Ethel assigns them, then writes everyone's "outs beside their names on a piece of paper, and gives the paper to Lazylardass. Ethel thought, just for spitefulness, that it would be fun to give Jan Ethel's own "Outs". That way, when Jan thought she was done for the day, Ethel could go to Lazylardass and complain that Jan was trying to leave without doing her "outs". Jan would get in trouble, have to do extra work, and Ethel wouldn't have to do her own "outs", because they would already have been done by Jan. A win-win for Ethel, in her mind. It was all going as planned up until Lazylardass called Jan to the office to bitch at her for trying to leave without doing her "outs". Jan said that she was sick of the childish shit for which Ethel is well-known. She didn't need this shit, and he could consider their conversation her official two weeks notice. Jan told Lazylardass that she already did the "outs" that Ethel had assigned her at the beginning of their shift, and if he didn't believe her, to watch the cameras. Lazylardass did, and realized what Ethel was doing. After apologizing, he let Jan go home. He then called Ethel to the office, played the video footage, and told her that he knew what she had done to Jan. He made Ethel do all of the "outs" that Jan was supposed to do. Those particular "outs", obviously, were the worst, most time consuming, most monotonous "outs" that we had, because she was expecting Jan to have to do them when she needed to leave. Lazylardass also told Ethel that he would be watching her. If he caught her bullying Jan, or any other employee for that matter, she would be terminated. He said that the only reason he didn't fire her today was because he had picked her himself as crew leader. If this got out, it would look bad on him with the owner. If it got out that she was bullying employees, that would also make him look bad. He can't have his sparkling reputation tarnished. Of course, he doesn't care about us. He only cares about saving his own ass. The way I see it, they're both miserable bags of cunts. Fuck. Them. Both.
Side Note: It's that time again where I have two glorious days off work to spend with my family. We need to have some fun after our loss of Boston. Man, I'm going to miss that little fucker. Anyways, I won't be posting until Monday.
Today I'm not going to complain about customers. I'm going to instead bitch about co-workers. It's bad when your co-workers have pissed you off more than a day's worth of needy asshole customers. There is one cook, we'll call her Ethel. She is in my official "Top 10" the biggest fucking bitches I've been forced to continuously deal with.
At Pizza Place, we have to make all the apps. and salads going to the dining room. We have three fryers. Two sit beside the small freezer where the apps. are stored. The other one sits clear across the kitchen. The kitchen is small, but has a shit ton of freezers, refrigerators, ovens, and fryers. So, it's like a maze walking to the apps freezer then across the kitchen to the third fryer. If you're in a hurry, the other cooks won't say a word when you use the two fryers that are closest. Yet, Ethel considers them "her" fryers. The third fryer across the kitchen and through the corn maze belongs to the server's, in her mind anyway. I usually just go ahead and walk the few extra steps. I just don't want to hear her mouth.
Once, a few weeks ago, I had a table of 30 and there was no one to split it with. I was stuck with it by myself. Of course, they all wanted apps. and salads, which are my responsibility to make. I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get their drinks, apps., and salads out before their entrees were ready. My plan was to drop all of their apps. While they were cooking, I was going to make all of the salads then get the apps. out of the fryer. One fryer can only hold so much at a time. I filled up the third fryer, but it didn't fit all of the apps. that I needed. The store manager told me to go use one of the other ones. So, I went back over to use one of the two of "her" fryers. She saw me heading toward it and stepped in front of me. "You need to use your fryer over there.", she snapped at me. I retort, "Well, Lazylardass told me to use this one because I have a big table, and all their apps. wouldn't fit in that fryer." She glares at me and rudely says, "Well, I don't care what Lazylardass said. You can't use my fryer, because I need it." She didn't. She didn't use it for the next ten minutes, well past when I would have been done with it. Believe me, I checked. She's the crew leader, so what can I really do. I can tell the store manager that she said she didn't care what he said. So, that's what I did. I tattled on her like a little crybaby. Oh well. I didn't even feel bad about it because of all of the cooks I've seen her get fired just because she didn't really like them.
This leads me to today. There was a lady cook that hadn't been working with us that long, we'll call her Jan. She was a nice lady if you took the time to actually talk to her. She was kind of shy and backward. She wouldn't speak unless spoken to, and you would have to actually have to ask her continuous questions to hold a conversation with her. By me taking the time to talk to her, I learned that both of her adult sons are in prison. Her sons had wives and kids. The wives were more useless than Jan's sons. When the sons went to prison, the wives packed the kids up and took them to Jan's house. They dumped their little ones with "Grandma" and said, "See you when I see you!" This lady had a lot of personal problems, but I never heard her complain. She never called off even though she was now responsible for her four grandchildren, nor was she late. Ethel never took the time to find out about this woman. Ethel saw Jan was quiet and deemed her as "weird". Ethel decided within a couple of hours that she did not like this woman. At that moment, it was decided. Jan's employment with Pizza Place was going to be brief. Ever since that day, Ethel has nit picked everything Jan has done. Jan could not do anything right in Ethel's eyes. If Jan swept the cooler, Ethel would decide she missed a spot and make Jan re-do it. If Jan made a pizza, Ethel would decide that it didn't look right/didn't have enough toppings/had too many toppings, and Jan would have to re-make it. If Jan stocked the pizza bar, Ethel would decide everything was in the wrong place, and make Jan re-organize it. You get it. I guess today Ethel realized that her snide remarks nor the extra work piled on Jan were going to make her quit. Ethel decided to stoop even lower today than her usual hunched-back self. No, today was the day Ethel stooped so low that her knuckles drug the ground as she walked. Everyone, including Ethel, knew that Jan HAD to be out of work at exactly 4, at the very latest. Jan had to be out at that certain time because she only had childcare for her grandchildren until then. If something needed to be done, she didn't care to come in later, but the daycare she used closed at 5pm. Ethel in in charge of giving everyone their "outs". "Outs" are the work one needs to get done before one can leave work. Ethel assigns them, then writes everyone's "outs beside their names on a piece of paper, and gives the paper to Lazylardass. Ethel thought, just for spitefulness, that it would be fun to give Jan Ethel's own "Outs". That way, when Jan thought she was done for the day, Ethel could go to Lazylardass and complain that Jan was trying to leave without doing her "outs". Jan would get in trouble, have to do extra work, and Ethel wouldn't have to do her own "outs", because they would already have been done by Jan. A win-win for Ethel, in her mind. It was all going as planned up until Lazylardass called Jan to the office to bitch at her for trying to leave without doing her "outs". Jan said that she was sick of the childish shit for which Ethel is well-known. She didn't need this shit, and he could consider their conversation her official two weeks notice. Jan told Lazylardass that she already did the "outs" that Ethel had assigned her at the beginning of their shift, and if he didn't believe her, to watch the cameras. Lazylardass did, and realized what Ethel was doing. After apologizing, he let Jan go home. He then called Ethel to the office, played the video footage, and told her that he knew what she had done to Jan. He made Ethel do all of the "outs" that Jan was supposed to do. Those particular "outs", obviously, were the worst, most time consuming, most monotonous "outs" that we had, because she was expecting Jan to have to do them when she needed to leave. Lazylardass also told Ethel that he would be watching her. If he caught her bullying Jan, or any other employee for that matter, she would be terminated. He said that the only reason he didn't fire her today was because he had picked her himself as crew leader. If this got out, it would look bad on him with the owner. If it got out that she was bullying employees, that would also make him look bad. He can't have his sparkling reputation tarnished. Of course, he doesn't care about us. He only cares about saving his own ass. The way I see it, they're both miserable bags of cunts. Fuck. Them. Both.
Side Note: It's that time again where I have two glorious days off work to spend with my family. We need to have some fun after our loss of Boston. Man, I'm going to miss that little fucker. Anyways, I won't be posting until Monday.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Ohhh, How Easily You Forget Where You Come From
Countless times over my illustrious 8-year stint on the restaurant industry, I have seen people come and go. Far too often, after they leave, they forget where they came from. This makes me far more angry than it probably should. I hate for someone that I just worked with two weeks ago, but has since quit, to come in, run me to death, treat me like garbage, then stiff me on the tip. This is the same person who was just complaining about a random customer doing this to her three weeks ago. It's shitty enough when Random Dan does this, but I think maybe he's just ignorant to the ways of the service industry. Former co-workers, on the other hand, have no excuse. They know what it's like to work for tips.
A former co-worker of mine at Pizza Place came in to eat today. We had worked together for about 8 months before she quit, or maybe she got fired, I'm really not sure. It was my turn for a table, so her and her boyfriend were mine to wait on. I was thinking, "Sweet!!! Easy tip." Boy, was I wrong. Her and her boyfriend ordered a ton of food. About half of that was salads and apps that I had to make myself. I took them their drinks, then started their apps cooking while I made their salads. I took their salads out, followed by their apps. A short while later, I took them their food. Everything was fine and dandy. The bitch didn't eat most of the shit she ordered, nor did she want a box to take the rest of it home. So, I took them their check. She came up front to pay the bill for her and her deadbeat boyfriend. She wanted to pay $20 in cash and put the rest on her card. This was my first sign of trouble, "uh-oh," I thought. Then I thought, "Well, maybe she just doesn't have much cash on her, and she'll put my tip on the card." A big fucking negative on that. "Well maybe she left it on the table, I mean she did work here for 8 months, she knows how it is." Wrong again! When I went over to clean the table there was nothing but garbage, half-eaten food, and disappointment. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, and i don't when it's a random customer who might not know better, but it really burns my biscuits when it happens with a former server. There's no excuse for it. She couldn't have even left two dollars? She couldn't have shared a salad with Deadbeat Boyfriend, instead of getting one for each of them and not eating it, then left me the price of that for a tip? Spare change? Anything? I usually let annoyances like that slide right off my back, but for some reason I just couldn't let this go. It might have been because I didn't get much sleep last night. Maybe it was that today was my last day before my days off, so I was tired. It could have been that I walked out of work today with only $16 in my pocket. Or, possibly I had just filled my quota of idiots this week. I honestly don't know for sure, but I held onto that incident until it was a big ball of hideous spite in the pit of my stomach. I'm not proud of what I did next, and I'm sure I will have to suffer the consequences.
I came home a little bit earlier than normal because it was so slow. When I walked in the door, I was still fuming. I got even angrier when I realized that bitch had caused me to bring my work home with me. So, I went to my lap top and looked her up on social media. I sent her a message. This is what it said:
Hey, I'm so glad you came in to eat today. I had so much fun making all those salads and appetizers that you ordered, but never ate. It was a blast cleaning all the mess off of the table after you left, too. When I saw that humongous tip you left, I jumped and danced as my heart was filled with joy! What a truly fulfilling experience you gave me today and, for that, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please come back to see me again soon, and, once again, thank you sooo much for your generosity.
I know it's horrible, and it didn't make me feel any better. From the second I pressed "send", I wished I could reach into my computer and take it back, but what's done is done. Today, I am ashamed to say, I let my anger and frustration get the better of me. If she calls the store to complain, then I will have to take whatever punishment my manager deems appropriate. It's my cross to bear. Then again, that girl has more cents than sense, so maybe she will take my message as sincere instead of sarcastic. Either way, I will take whatever is coming in stride be it good, or, not-so-good.
I have two days off ahead of me, and I will definitely NOT be posting again until Monday. I've got a class reunion. Every other minute of my weekend, I will be relaxing in whomever's pool I can convince to let me in. If you're off, like me, then have a great weekend. If you're working, then I hope you make stacks of cash. Until Monday....
A former co-worker of mine at Pizza Place came in to eat today. We had worked together for about 8 months before she quit, or maybe she got fired, I'm really not sure. It was my turn for a table, so her and her boyfriend were mine to wait on. I was thinking, "Sweet!!! Easy tip." Boy, was I wrong. Her and her boyfriend ordered a ton of food. About half of that was salads and apps that I had to make myself. I took them their drinks, then started their apps cooking while I made their salads. I took their salads out, followed by their apps. A short while later, I took them their food. Everything was fine and dandy. The bitch didn't eat most of the shit she ordered, nor did she want a box to take the rest of it home. So, I took them their check. She came up front to pay the bill for her and her deadbeat boyfriend. She wanted to pay $20 in cash and put the rest on her card. This was my first sign of trouble, "uh-oh," I thought. Then I thought, "Well, maybe she just doesn't have much cash on her, and she'll put my tip on the card." A big fucking negative on that. "Well maybe she left it on the table, I mean she did work here for 8 months, she knows how it is." Wrong again! When I went over to clean the table there was nothing but garbage, half-eaten food, and disappointment. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, and i don't when it's a random customer who might not know better, but it really burns my biscuits when it happens with a former server. There's no excuse for it. She couldn't have even left two dollars? She couldn't have shared a salad with Deadbeat Boyfriend, instead of getting one for each of them and not eating it, then left me the price of that for a tip? Spare change? Anything? I usually let annoyances like that slide right off my back, but for some reason I just couldn't let this go. It might have been because I didn't get much sleep last night. Maybe it was that today was my last day before my days off, so I was tired. It could have been that I walked out of work today with only $16 in my pocket. Or, possibly I had just filled my quota of idiots this week. I honestly don't know for sure, but I held onto that incident until it was a big ball of hideous spite in the pit of my stomach. I'm not proud of what I did next, and I'm sure I will have to suffer the consequences.
I came home a little bit earlier than normal because it was so slow. When I walked in the door, I was still fuming. I got even angrier when I realized that bitch had caused me to bring my work home with me. So, I went to my lap top and looked her up on social media. I sent her a message. This is what it said:
Hey, I'm so glad you came in to eat today. I had so much fun making all those salads and appetizers that you ordered, but never ate. It was a blast cleaning all the mess off of the table after you left, too. When I saw that humongous tip you left, I jumped and danced as my heart was filled with joy! What a truly fulfilling experience you gave me today and, for that, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please come back to see me again soon, and, once again, thank you sooo much for your generosity.
I know it's horrible, and it didn't make me feel any better. From the second I pressed "send", I wished I could reach into my computer and take it back, but what's done is done. Today, I am ashamed to say, I let my anger and frustration get the better of me. If she calls the store to complain, then I will have to take whatever punishment my manager deems appropriate. It's my cross to bear. Then again, that girl has more cents than sense, so maybe she will take my message as sincere instead of sarcastic. Either way, I will take whatever is coming in stride be it good, or, not-so-good.
I have two days off ahead of me, and I will definitely NOT be posting again until Monday. I've got a class reunion. Every other minute of my weekend, I will be relaxing in whomever's pool I can convince to let me in. If you're off, like me, then have a great weekend. If you're working, then I hope you make stacks of cash. Until Monday....
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