WORD to your mother.
Okay.
So.
Waitressing is... interesting.
Today, at around 1:13 in the afternoon, my mental train of thought was thus:
"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck they want aoeli sauce for their calamari rings HOW could I FORGET the freaking ORANGE SAUCE and then the four top at 72 wants their check but they want SEPARATE checks and how the fuck am I supposed to split the appetizer they shared and why the fuck do people come to this restaurant and order motherfucking SALADS HELLO people it's a SEAFOOD RESTAURANT you come here you get FISH and FUCKing CHIPS NOT MOTHERFUCKING CAESAR SALAD AND NO YOU CANNOT SUBSTITUTE A SIDE SALAD FOR YOUR FUCKING COLESLAW. NO, DON'T bitch at me, I DON'T write the menus NOR do I program the computers so KINDLY GET OFF MY PROVERBIAL ASS. And crap, crap CRAP what the hell do these people do, pick the weirdest drink in the world so that I HAVE to ask them to repeat it once or even twice because NO, sir, I do NOT happen to know what a Johnny Walker Red on the Rocks is so I'm NOT asking you to repeat it because I think it's FUNNY, MMKAY? And no. Making a comment about my ass is not considered being friendly. It's considered being both drunk and stupid. SO KINDLY LAY OFF THE JEIGERMEISTER, JACK. Thankssomuch. AND OH GOD THAT WOMAN HAS A MULLET." *thud*
This as I handle 6 tables plus the one Alysa asked me to take for her because she had TWO ninetops and three other tables because the stupid hostess didn't have the brains to tell us about the ginormous tables ahead of time. Thanks so much, Dani. *headdesk*
Which brings me to my next question. WHY ARE PEOPLE STUPID? Jesse and I BOTH had people today (AND YESTERDAY!! GOD!!) who, when we bring them their food, look at us and ask in all seriousness, "Do you have tartar sauce?"
Okay.
Buddy....our restaurant is called The Surf. It's...on a dock. Out on the water. All the windows look out. Onto the water. YOU, my prize-winning friend, happen to be seated ON THE DECK OUTSIDE OVERLOOKING THE WATER. Ninety percent of our menu is seafood. NO!!! WHY WOULD WE HAVE TARTAR SAUCE?!?!?! AAAASDFJASLDKFJALSKDJFASLKDJFLAKJFL
Next stupid-customer pet peeve (and I know, I know, I've done this too). Do not ask me if the food is good. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I'M GOING TO SAY?! No, actually, that dish sucks ass, I have no idea why we have it on the menu. Yeah, I think the crab cakes taste like re-fried buttcheek. Don't get it. In fact, leave the restaurant. Go to the Belmont, up the street! THEY have good food. *stares*
And in conclusion, people are also assholes. Yes, your food sucks because I SPIT IN IT. Not. If you don't like the way it tastes, how about you tell ME and not my fellow waitress who happens to be passing by your table and offers to take your completely empty plate. Also, complain BEFORE you have eaten, I reiterate, YOUR ENTIRE MEAL, beacuse obviously it wasn't THAT bad if you ate the WHOLE FUCKING THING, ASSHOLE. Don't be a shit and huff and sulk and bitch to everyone BUT ME, THE ONE PERSON WHO COULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT FOR YOU, and then proceed not to leave my tired, hard-working ass a tip. DIE NOW.
I'm going to go to bed now. In conclusion, I really DO love my job. I make GOOD money, it's a wonderful area (holy shit is it ever nice here) and I have quite possibly the coolest co-workers in the world. But people suck sometimes. *Thump*
ETA: Forgot to mention the missing table on the deck that we strongly suspect was chucked into the bay the night before by drunkards sneaking out from the bar, as well as the table that *gets out a copy of their tab and reads off* Two tall bourbons, two rumdrivers, one Coors light, one Coors light + Guinness, three Mirror Pond Pale Ales, two gin and tonics, two Port Townsend IPA's, FOUR Johnny Walker Reds on the Rocks, one shot of Sauza tequila, and one Jaegermeister. And yes, fuckers, I tried to cut your rowdy asses off and YES you were being huge asshats about it and YES I had three other tables who wanted their food so I had neither the time nor the energy to wrassle with you over the fact that YOU NEEDED TO STOP DRINKING so I told the bartend and you are OFFICIALLY NO LONGER MY PROBLEM. Thank you and GOOD NIGHT.
So.
Waitressing is... interesting.
Today, at around 1:13 in the afternoon, my mental train of thought was thus:
"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck they want aoeli sauce for their calamari rings HOW could I FORGET the freaking ORANGE SAUCE and then the four top at 72 wants their check but they want SEPARATE checks and how the fuck am I supposed to split the appetizer they shared and why the fuck do people come to this restaurant and order motherfucking SALADS HELLO people it's a SEAFOOD RESTAURANT you come here you get FISH and FUCKing CHIPS NOT MOTHERFUCKING CAESAR SALAD AND NO YOU CANNOT SUBSTITUTE A SIDE SALAD FOR YOUR FUCKING COLESLAW. NO, DON'T bitch at me, I DON'T write the menus NOR do I program the computers so KINDLY GET OFF MY PROVERBIAL ASS. And crap, crap CRAP what the hell do these people do, pick the weirdest drink in the world so that I HAVE to ask them to repeat it once or even twice because NO, sir, I do NOT happen to know what a Johnny Walker Red on the Rocks is so I'm NOT asking you to repeat it because I think it's FUNNY, MMKAY? And no. Making a comment about my ass is not considered being friendly. It's considered being both drunk and stupid. SO KINDLY LAY OFF THE JEIGERMEISTER, JACK. Thankssomuch. AND OH GOD THAT WOMAN HAS A MULLET." *thud*
This as I handle 6 tables plus the one Alysa asked me to take for her because she had TWO ninetops and three other tables because the stupid hostess didn't have the brains to tell us about the ginormous tables ahead of time. Thanks so much, Dani. *headdesk*
Which brings me to my next question. WHY ARE PEOPLE STUPID? Jesse and I BOTH had people today (AND YESTERDAY!! GOD!!) who, when we bring them their food, look at us and ask in all seriousness, "Do you have tartar sauce?"
Okay.
Buddy....our restaurant is called The Surf. It's...on a dock. Out on the water. All the windows look out. Onto the water. YOU, my prize-winning friend, happen to be seated ON THE DECK OUTSIDE OVERLOOKING THE WATER. Ninety percent of our menu is seafood. NO!!! WHY WOULD WE HAVE TARTAR SAUCE?!?!?! AAAASDFJASLDKFJALSKDJFASLKDJFLAKJFL
Next stupid-customer pet peeve (and I know, I know, I've done this too). Do not ask me if the food is good. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I'M GOING TO SAY?! No, actually, that dish sucks ass, I have no idea why we have it on the menu. Yeah, I think the crab cakes taste like re-fried buttcheek. Don't get it. In fact, leave the restaurant. Go to the Belmont, up the street! THEY have good food. *stares*
And in conclusion, people are also assholes. Yes, your food sucks because I SPIT IN IT. Not. If you don't like the way it tastes, how about you tell ME and not my fellow waitress who happens to be passing by your table and offers to take your completely empty plate. Also, complain BEFORE you have eaten, I reiterate, YOUR ENTIRE MEAL, beacuse obviously it wasn't THAT bad if you ate the WHOLE FUCKING THING, ASSHOLE. Don't be a shit and huff and sulk and bitch to everyone BUT ME, THE ONE PERSON WHO COULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT FOR YOU, and then proceed not to leave my tired, hard-working ass a tip. DIE NOW.
I'm going to go to bed now. In conclusion, I really DO love my job. I make GOOD money, it's a wonderful area (holy shit is it ever nice here) and I have quite possibly the coolest co-workers in the world. But people suck sometimes. *Thump*
ETA: Forgot to mention the missing table on the deck that we strongly suspect was chucked into the bay the night before by drunkards sneaking out from the bar, as well as the table that *gets out a copy of their tab and reads off* Two tall bourbons, two rumdrivers, one Coors light, one Coors light + Guinness, three Mirror Pond Pale Ales, two gin and tonics, two Port Townsend IPA's, FOUR Johnny Walker Reds on the Rocks, one shot of Sauza tequila, and one Jaegermeister. And yes, fuckers, I tried to cut your rowdy asses off and YES you were being huge asshats about it and YES I had three other tables who wanted their food so I had neither the time nor the energy to wrassle with you over the fact that YOU NEEDED TO STOP DRINKING so I told the bartend and you are OFFICIALLY NO LONGER MY PROBLEM. Thank you and GOOD NIGHT.