How To Be a Waitress

How To Be a Waitress

Walk in the back door, take a deep breath. Say “Hi” to the guys in the kitchen, clock in, and walk out onto the floor. Only three tables…Good.

Walk up to the espresso maker and hit the button that says “double shot.” Add a Splenda to it, just for a little sweetness. This espresso is very strong, but you’re going to need it. It’s a weekend, and weekends are always much busier. Another table walks in…

Down your espresso, and wave to your coworkers on your way to the table. Say, “good morning” and ask them if you can get them something to drink. Try to remember their drinks, because writing them down would make you look like a new person. Customers in this place hate new people. Why? Because new people mess up orders. They forget the menu, forget drinks, overcharge people. But you aren’t a new server, no, you’re an experienced server. Been waiting tables your whole life; it was your very first job, and will probably be your last. Unless you want to be a new server, in that case write down the drinks into your book and smile at them. “Anything else?” you ask. When they look at you confused, you walk away. Just get their drinks. First table of the day and you already look stupid. Hey, it happens when you’re not a people-person, doing a people-person job. Just try to be friendly, and “always wear a smile,” as your boss would constantly remind you.

Three more tables walk in. After getting their drinks, ask them if they are ready to order. “Not yet,” they say. Good, let another server take them when they are ready, and go onto another project.

Two more tables walk in, and there are three waiting by the door to sit down. The coffee shop is full. Go to the window and look at the tickets. Are there any orders ready that need to be brought out? Nope. Did the other servers put in their toast for their orders? No, of course not. Make the toast for them. You wait on a couple of tables, including the one you got the drinks for earlier because no other server got to them. “Thanks guys,” you think aloud, referring to the other servers on the floor.

Things start to speed up, three orders go in the window as one comes out. Thank goodness you drank that espresso.

Twenty minutes passes, and you are running around the place like a pro. Taking orders, asking people if they want water with their coffee, or if they want whip cream on their hot chocolate. There is a line out the door, and the place is packed.

You’re doing all you can, when you turn around to see an older man standing by the server station. You put on a big smile, and ask “can I help you?” “Yes,” he says. The way he says it aggravates me. “Me and my wife have been waiting for thirty minutes for our food. Can we get some service over here??” The man is very rude; you assume it’s his first time in this place. You get to people as fast as you can, but sometimes people get left behind. He stands there very impatiently for a minute while you get some other customer’s drinks and say “Well, sir,” you say as you walk past him with three glasses of orange juice in your hand, “the table over there has been waiting twenty. I will get to you as soon as I can.”

You’re almost frantic. There are just so many people in this restaurant today. You look at him on your way back to the server station. He’s back at his table and he’s livid. You ignore him. He stands back up and comes over to you to say “if we don’t get some service here-” and you stop him there. “Sir,” you say in your strongest tone, the strongest your boss will allow, “if you want any faster service than this, there’s a McDonald’s right up the street and I hear you don’t even have to get out of your car!”

You turn around to continue what you were doing, and you hear the entire restaurant clap in unison. The man sits down, and his food comes out of the window. They left a twelve percent tip. It slows down. People begin to leave, tables begin to be cleared, and you can slow down a little. Weekends are always the busiest. Everyone is gone, and the coffee shop is dead. Take off your apron, and clock out. “See you tomorrow,” you tell your coworkers. Wheew!

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More good short stories:  

Saving Spaces

Outside/Inside

 

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This Post Has 6 Comments

  1. I was a barista for four years, a waitress for six. It is the only job more unforgiving on a worker than motherhood. Fore every satisfied happy customer, there are always ten complete arseholes around the corner. The ones who haven’t received their meals within five minutes of ordering, the ones who change their order fifteen minutes after they’ve placed it and expect you to just be able to click your fingers and change it. the coffee’s too cold, too hot, too much like a latter. How come you didn’t get a good head on the soy cappucino? No, it’s too strong, well I didn;t order it weaker because you’re supposed to be able to read my mind. The ones who run you ragged like their own personal slave, then after you’ve done everything bar lick their shoes clean sod off without tipping (tipping isn’t that common out here is Australia). I am now a stay at home mum, and when I do eventually return to the workforce, it will be in an industry that does not involve people or food, shit managers who expect the world of you but won’t remunerate in turn, beligerent bastard chefs who think they run both the kitchen and the front of house, and bastard customeres! Phew, rant over!

  2. I’ve been a cook in Las Vegas. Some waitresses are great, some aren’t.

  3. Ha, a server where I work was termed for suggesting a table go to McDonald’s for speedier service. I don’t necessarily agree with the view of ‘serving’ In this article…

  4. I was a waitress and bartender before I got into the car business. The car business is similar to the restaurant business, but like on steroids times a hundred.

  5. Yeah I have trouble imagining the McDonald’s comment. That said, I do not for the love of me understand why people treat waiters and waitresses so shittely sometimes. I try and be as polite as possible to them because I recognize that it’s a hard job and very much thankless.

  6. Try dealing with those same nightmare customers and selling them a used car! “So if I understand you correctly, you have terrible credit, little money down and you want this $8,000 car for $200 a month for 12 months AND you want me to put brand new tires on it?”
    Really? Yes, I deal with this all day every day. And the ones who do purchase used cars with no warranty even though we Did offer them one want to call us back and complain everytime an alternator or battery or oil leak happens even after they’ve had it for months. You ran your car into a tree and didn’t have insurance on it and I sold it to you, therefore I should have it fixed for free?
    Fortunately I have the power and the balls to tell them get OUT of my office !!! Which I do, daily.

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