Sunday, September 12, 2004


I haven't bitched about my job in a while, so lest you think that everything is champagne and roses in that department, I'm going to vent a little bit here. I'm a little riled up, as I come fresh from having to close the restaurant essentially by myself. You see, the other closer in smoking, Theresa, decided she would close herself and gleefully stroll out of the restaurant despite being told by the manager she needed to come back and help me with closing duties.

Ah yes, I suppose the life of one so ballsy and indifferent to anyone else must be exciting. After all, imagine having the power (over your boss too, apparently) to decide when you're done with work. That must be nice.

You see, Theresa is not a fun person to work with and she is not popular at work, due to her intrinsically self-serving motivations. I hate being her roommate and I find she is lazy in her work across the board, which causes the overflow work to fall on everyone else. In essence, Theresa is one that would screw ya. There are a lot of people at work, but I do know the ones I can trust. There are a handful of others that will totally screw you and not give a shit about it.

So tonight, Theresa cleaned her room early and got my signature on her goal card in return. She took my signature and used it to cash out, and instead of even asking me if there was anything else I needed before she left, she told me to have a good night, and went to leave. I went to ask the manager if he'd closed her and let her go, and he said no, he hadn't. I explained to him that she'd closed herself without doing any of the closing stuff (dumping pitchers, bread, soup, etc.), and that she was leaving. He asked about my signature, and I told him that that was just for cleaning her room, that she hadn't done anything to help me at all.

She was still in the cafe and the manager went and asked her if she was his other closer, she answered him yes. He then told her she needed to come back and help me close, and when he walked away, Theresa walked out the door and left. That bitch fuckin' screwed me of about half an hour of my time. I had the last three tables, I was busy with them as well as checking everyone else out. I hadn't even gotten to start cleaning my room, much less the closing stuff. So I was left to dump everything, put the salad stuff away, and clean up by myself, then I still had to cash out and clean my room. I swear if she'd helped me, I would have gotten out at about quarter after 10.

And then I got pulled over for speeding on the way home. I had a lovely chat with the officer, who was very nice, and he told me I'd been going 35 in a 25. Whoops. I was all pissed at Theresa and also having to sit at a light that never changed for five minutes.. I saw him turn around, and knew I was in trouble.. I tried to pull into a side street, but he had his lights on as he turned the corner. Haha.. I'm so dumb. Ah well.. he didn't give me a ticket and only told me to make sure I get my car inspected soon. I am grateful for him being nice, but as I told him, it's a new windshield and I just tried to get it inspected and had a couple things I needed to replace first.

I'm not quite done with my rant, though. I want to bitch a little bit about the moronic people I wait on. I'm trying to get a cheap tablet on eBay so I can create my own comics about all the retarded, mind-bending things I experience at work. You wouldn't believe the things people ask me, the way they act, or the things they say. Waiting tables in WV has been a truly humbling experience for me. Never before have I been forced to serve people for whom I generally have such contempt.

When I make my generalizations, please accept that not everyone in WV is bad, and as a general rule, I find West Virginians to be welcoming and kind. However, a great many of them are ignorant, obese, brainwashed, and uncultured. They think Olive Garden is a fancy restaurant because we wear ties and use cloth napkins. They're lazy and don't want to read (whether it be signs, or a menu), they want everything handed to them, they want it pointed to and spelled out. I can't count the times when people order soup and salad and ask, "Well, what kind of soup do you have?" when I ask them what soup they want. How do you order something and have no idea what it is? Is it dealer's choice? What the hell? Before I order soup, I make sure there's a variety I like. I don't just go around ordering soup willy-nilly. Or the people that have just been looking at the menu, ordering soup and salad, and then ask me what kinds of soup we have. It's on the menu, that thing you were just using to find the cheapest items, in big letters.. right there.

Those of you who have never waited tables or worked in the service industry will never fully understand what it means to be a waiter/waitress. What the job takes (a great deal of skill and patience, for example), what it's really like dealing with restaurant guests. The great amount of unnecessary shit and annoyances we have to put up with. The drama, which really could rival any reality show on the air. You could put a camera in any restaurant in America and you'd have plenty to watch. The Restaurant is real; restaurant life is just explosive and dramatic, just as full of big egos and indestructable attitudes.

Those attitudes do not just belong to the staff, oh no. Some of the people I wait on are downright cold and rude for no reason whatsoever, people who feel like the price of their dinner also includes the use of me as their personal shit receptacle. I am frustrated and stupefied both at this kind of person. I, for one, do not believe in ill-treatment of people unless you know them and they've done something to warrant your superiority.

What makes it worse is that I know I'm better than most of these people. I sure as hell am smarter. I don't usually feel superior to people because I'm smarter, but these asshats who take out their shoulder-chips on me really could use a mental smack-down. How I wish and fantasize I could verbally lash some of these folks, just to tell them straight out what a fucker they're being.

Oh, that reminds me. I got told off by a manager on Sunday for using the F-word in the alley. Nevermind all the other rampant language and blatant sexual comments and gestures that fly around that place like panties on prom night. No, apparently my use of the F-word was somehow worse than everyone else's. So I got yelled at, which really topped off my incredibly shitty day.

I'd overslept and was late to work, got past Big Boss unscathed, clocked on, and was immediately triple sat (one of which was a party of 6) and slammed for the next couple of hours. One of the first tables was an older couple, they ordered soup/salad and spaghetti and meat sauce. I was rushing around trying to get everyone everything all at once, and my food was taking forever. I'd sent all three tables as soon as they got their salads, I didn't care that a couple of the tickets had quick things and would be out fast.

Imagine this all in a high degree of stress and not being able to get caught up. Lots and lots of refills. Well, twenty minutes later, everyone was finishing up the salad, and no sign of my food. I stood in the alley and waited for it, but even the things that usually took two minutes to make were nowhere to be seen. So I headed back out to do my rounds and let everyone know I was waiting on the food while I cleared plates. I get back in the dining room and the guy in the older couple is standing up and says urgently, "I need to go."

I apologized about how long it was taking and told him I'd sent their food a long time ago, he replied, "I'm sure you did." (sarcasm?)

He asked if they could pay for the salad and soup, so they could just go, the whole time asking all rushed and brusque. I asked him to wait for a moment while I had the ticket changed. I went back to Big Boss and he said he would comp it, and then started stomping around and yelling at the line guys about the order. I went back out and told them the manager said there'd be no charge, and told them to have a good afternoon. The man said, "The manager.. where is he? I want to talk to him."

Ugh.. give me a freakin' break here. You go into a restaurant and expect to have two courses finished in twenty minutes? What kind of crack are you smoking?? But I told them sure, and went and told Big Boss. I don't know what the guy's problem was, but I wasn't worried because I hadn't done anything wrong. All of this put me behind and I was struggling, rushing around with the food coming up, drink refills, and then Big Boss came up and wanted a rehash of what happened. I was so behind and totally on the verge of tears out of frustration and anger against those stupid fucking people.

On top of it, they didn't even tip me. What fuckin' assholes.

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