Many people may not know this about me, but I’m on a committee to pass a bill that requires people to work in a restaurant before they are allowed to eat in one. Ok, I’m not really, I just made that up. To be on a committee requires a dedication reserved for beavers and team moms. I’d rather sit in the stands and root the players on (Go, Occupy, Go!). Or simply read the news and do what I do best, which is to throw my hands up in disgust and complain to my cat. Nevertheless, since you brought it up, let’s talk about it.
The serving industry can literally drive you mad. I’m talking curl-into-a-fetal-position-and-suck-your-thumb kind of mad. Forget the postal workers. Servers are 17 times more likely to carve their eyes out with a salad fork than a mailman. I can only compare it to Chinese water torture (drip, drip, drip). That single drop splashing on your forehead is nothing at first, but small annoyances add up until the tension becomes so unbearable you run back into the kitchen and tear the paper towel dispenser off the wall. Every day I am astounded that we are allowed to work in the presence of knives.
The truth is, any employee who has worked longer than a year in this business involuntarily joins an angry, jaded cult of servers and bartenders that cripples their chances to partake in a healthy relationship for the remainder of their life here on Earth. It’s the truth. In fact look-up “server blogs” on the Internet and see what server industry people are saying about you.
One in particular, TheBitchyWaiter.com, inspired this discussion I’m having with you. If you really want to know what servers think of you, check out the site and get inside the mind of a real server. It’s educational, enlightening and humorous. If this terrifies you and you’d rather live in the dark, stay away, but to this day I still can’t fathom why a guest would risk being disrespectful to a person who has access to the food that goes into their mouth. This is akin to insulting a guy smoking a cigarette while you’re standing in a puddle of gasoline.
If you’re a risk taker and you feel at home in your gasoline puddle, then practice these ten mistakes that will put you and your food in the line of fire the next time you go out:
1. FORGET YOUR MANNERS. For whatever reason, some people hoard their manners like Golem protecting The Ring (“My precioussssss”) and they distribute them like meager rations. CEO’s and priests are worthy of manners, while servers and gas station attendants are treated like the sole of a shoe smothered in dog crap. Use your wildest imagination and make believe for a short time that servers are real people. Stop being a prick and say “please” and “thank you”.
2. IGNORE THEM. This could be a subcategory and is even worse than the former rule. Here’s some advice for those of you who would like your food fucked with: when your server initially arrives at your table and is standing there waiting to say hello, continue to carry on your conversation with the rest of the table and do not acknowledge the server’s presence. These people will continue to treat their server as the invisible person throughout the meal and then when they need something, they will complain to everyone who works there that they don’t know who their server is.
3. STRING ORDER. If you’ve ever played poker, this is like string betting where you make a bet, pull your hand back to your chips and bet again. It’s illegal in poker, or at least against the rules. If you want to fluster a server, try this: order a Coke for your son. When the server returns, order a Sprite for your daughter. Next time, ask for more bread. By this time your server should be breathing heavy, but oooooh, you almost forgot, now you need a side of ranch. Servers depend on efficiency to provide quality service. For them, this is like building a wall carrying one brick at a time instead of using a wheel barrel.
4. ALLOW YOUR BABY TO TORNADO THE PLACE. Are you the person who allows your baby to toss plates of food on the floor and empty every sugar packet onto the table? Do you then pretend that it’s not your responsibility to control this because its the servants’ and slaves’ job to clean it up? If so, chances are your kid causes the same collateral damage wherever he/she goes, including friends’ houses, which means they probably hate you too. Every menu in America needs this message on its menu:
5. EAT 90% OF YOUR MEAL AND THEN SAY YOU DIDN’T LIKE IT AND ASK FOR IT TO BE TAKEN OFF YOUR BILL. (Drip, drip, drip…)
6. MAKE 23 MODIFICATIONS TO YOUR ORDER. There’s nothing wrong with “having it your way”, but don’t act shocked when you order the orange chicken with no chicken, sub soy faux-chicken, no sugar, sub Splenda, no olive oil, sub rice bran oil, extra crispy but no breading, sub corn starch, and it comes out tasting like a dishrag. The chefs created their recipes and sauces to taste good. Unless you are Rachel Fucking Ray, then don’t fuck with them. Yeah, I said it. Fuck!
7. LEAVE A CRAPPY TIP. Sure, by this time you’ll be gone and unless the server has a time machine he/she won’t be able to spit in your food. Still. It reminds me of a girl I worked with once who got a $1 tip on a $150 tab. She chased down the woman outside in the parking lot like she was going after someone who had just boiled her bunny, and that’s exactly how she looked too: like Glen Close at the end of Fatal Attraction when she looks like some crazy hoarder-27-cats-in-her-house-lady who comes at Michael Douglas with a butcher knife before he shoots her and she falls into the bath tub. Yeah, I know, that was this server, and she yelled at the lady, “Keep your dollar you fucking bitch!” right there in the parking lot. That’s how it happens. Remember the towel dispenser we discussed earlier? Drip, drip…
8. COMPLAIN ABOUT THE PRICES TO THE SERVER. This really happens, I’m not kidding. Try this: if you don’t like the prices, try budgeting with the server like you do at a yard sale. Maybe he’ll drop the price of the duck like he would some old shoes because he just wants to get rid of some things on the menu. Then, the next time you meet with your accountant, tell him that taxes are too high and that you’d like him to pay for some of them and see how that works out for you.
9. SIT AND CHAT FOR THREE HOURS AFTER YOU’RE THROUGH EATING. We call this “camping”, and not the good kind where you get to whittle sticks and make toast over a fire. Servers can’t make money until the next party can sit at the table you are holding hostage. If you aren’t making s’mores or telling ghost stories, mosey along.
10. ASK FOR SEPARATE CHECKS FOR YOU AND YOUR TEN FRIENDS. Ooooh, servers and separate checks are MORTAL enemies. Splitting checks for two people, whatever. Splitting for three, eh, ok. Anything beyond that and you can actually watch an internal meltdown take place before your very eyes. Your server will give you a smile used by catty housewives while she waits for six credit cards and four wads of cash.
Epilogue: I know I’m going to be attacked by some servers who will be like, “Why did you make us look so psycho?” and others will be all, “I’m not like that, I love my job and I love serving people and giving good service,” and even others will be like, “I don’t care if people camp or ask for separate checks, it’s my job and I’m great at it!”
Congratulations to all of you for your capacity to provide unblemished, consummate service. From the rest of us in the biz swimming at the bottom of the tainted fish barrel, we warmly and genuinely invite you to suck our balls.
Cheers, until next time.