1. 1. Any
questions directed toward the table are either completely ignored, or not
acknowledged (looking at me but never speaking to me)—usually meaning the
designated decision maker (the d.d.m.) for this table is engaged in
conversation or otherwise occupied, until I leave the table.
2. 2. The
trickle effect; the table has decided to order together-but-separately a number
of items, none of which are chosen by the group as a whole but every-so-often
as their hunger and curiosity seizes them over a longer than expected period of
time. They converse amongst themselves-oblivious that I, their server, have
been standing at their table for the last 5 minutes, poised with pen and pad,
then walking from one end of the table to the other, trying to get all of their
orders at once with little or no effect.
3. 3. When
after making multiple trips to the table, placing an adequate number of food
and drink orders for the table, then asking if there is anything else they’d
like to order, then getting no response, I move on to other patrons in my
section and tasks at hand. Then the d.d.m. finds me to sternly let me know that
there are other members of his party that are still in need of ordering since
my abandonment of them. His words: “Other people at my table wanted to order,
but then you vanished.” POOF!
4. 4. Every
single item for that table needs to be on a separate check; sodas, beer, entrées,
appetizers, etc. Then all larger ticket items will be split two or more ways,
on two or more credit cards, combined with their respective smaller ticket
items. As I figure out how to do that the rest of the table (actually only the
d.d.m.) will grow impatient with me, and utilize the other server(s) to run his
credit cards for his separate ticket.
This is how I pay the rent. This is my livelihood.
…and in this corner…The table for two:
They just want a little something;
a conversation drink, a bite to eat—nothing too big it’s getting pretty late
(by their own admission). They have their drinks. They have decided to alter a
house special beyond recognition (which has doubled the cost) and so they also
have their “light” food fare. They wine and dine, converse joyfully with each other
for about 45 minutes…and then an hour. Each of the servers has checked in with
them and asked them if they’re alright. They have assured each server with slight
nods that they are alright. It actually is quite late and the cooks are
wrapping it up, accessing all orders and requests are complete, they get the
okay to break down the kitchen. Fifteen minutes into that and the table for two
has decided that they are in-fact hungrier than they first thought. Just for a
little something, nothing too big. With a fallen face I inform them that the
kitchen has closed. Unbeknownst to them,
all remaining food items have been distributed to the late night hangers-on
outside. They both look at me in disbelief and ask me again, “There isn’t
anything left?” No. “Nothing at all?” I shake my head with a solemn face, no. “Not
a little something.” Uh, no. “You’re sure?”
Um. Yeah. I apologize. I can tell by their faces they don’t believe me
for a second, and I don’t want to expand on the reality that we just gave all
the food that they would've paid full price for to the homeless folks outside
because we just would've thrown it away otherwise. They continue to look at me
with completely serious looks of disbelief on their faces and I make sure to
also stay completely serious, apologize, and look them both in the eye while doing
so. It is, by the way, ten minutes after close, and they were satisfied for
this whole time. The completely serious faces look back to each other, then
they continue to drink their drinks, or rather not drink their drinks for the
next 30 minutes as they talk to each other. All other patrons have left the
cooks have disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled all items in the kitchen. All
tables have been wiped down, the sidewalks swept, the bathrooms cleaned, all
refuse removed, the dishes are done. And still they drink their drinks, or
rather not drink their drinks, but sit there and talk to each other…when they
did leave eventually (at someone’s polite suggestion) they paid separately,
with credit cards, leaving $1.50 in tip each.
To the customers with the Heineken hidden
under table 404,
Listen you two, this is not a
cafeteria, or public picnic area! This is a private business here to make money
and we don’t make money letting people bring their outside food and/or drink to
consume on our premises. You are preventing other people who are willing to pay
for the food and service provided here from sitting here, in this very spot
where you are tipping your beer into your water glasses like a couple of
tacky-ass teenagers at their parents’ dinner table! Beer through straws,
really!?
While I am thankful that you have
spent $3.75 on one food item split between the two of you, you have just worn
out your welcome. There are other legalities entailed in consuming outside
alcohol on these premises, but I won’t expand on them as I am sure you could
give a shit about them. Are you aware that you are acting unlawfully in full view
of all of the staff here? The table you have chosen in the window is much like
a stage before a ready audience. In other words, you aren't fooling anyone! We
are all just wondering how much shit we are going to get into when either
confronting you or the boss should he walk in and know what you are doing and
weighing those two factors into the next course of action.
Oh wait! Is that a crazy man that
has approached your table to make you uneasy and uncomfortable in your time of
need? Did you want me to intervene on your behalf and play the bad guy to your
innocent dining patron? Too bad! Suffer the awkwardness of his maladies both
mental and physical in the presence of your abundance!
Leaving so soon? Okay, bye! Have a
great night!
By "Smiley" (A guest blogger)
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