I know what you’re thinking. I’m not waitress material, right? Wrong. Actually, yes you were right. Terrible terrible. I’ve got a lot of strengths: I’m creative. I’m passionate. I’m motivated. I also have some weaknesses. I am not good at paying attention to small details. I am terrible at doing more than one thing at a time. I am not good at small talk and bullshitting. So add them up (not detail-oriented, can’t multitask, can’t hold conversations) and you’ve got yourself a fool-proof server.
The Orders
God, I was terrible at this. I tried so many different ways of writing in a note pad to try to help me who orderd appetizers, who ordered substitutes, what went where, what should come first, what sauce they wanted, etc. Oh, you want an appetizer? Yeah you're definitely not getting that. Oh, your son is allergic to cheese? Welp, better hope he doesn't eat too much of that "cheeseless" pizza because I'm not assertive enough to demand that the scary non-English speaking cooks roll out the dough on a clean surface. Oh you want me to put that baked dish back in the oven for 2 minutes? By 2 minutes I hope you meant 25 because thats how long it will take me to remember that I put it in there.
The Kids
Here's my advice. If you are ever going to subject yourself to serving, do not do it in a restaurant that caters to kids. The first time a kid asked me to play with dough, I looked at the mother for help in shutting this obnoxious idiot up. But another waitress came by and dropped off the "kid dough" that children can make their own pizza dough that we get to put in the oven like a real pizza, because thats the kind of time I have on my hands. I always just assumed kids liked black burnt play pizzas, because thats what they looked like each and every time I finally remembered to get them out of the oven. Ohhh, that is so cute, you're gonna let you're 4 year old daughter order her own meal off the kids' menu. "Honey, tell the lady you want a pizza ... do you want pepperoni? "ya" "you do?" "no" "oh you don't want peperoni honey?" "ya ... peanut butter m jelly" "... We don't have peanut butter and jelly." "Honey choose something off the men-SIR SHE IS TWO SHE CAN'T READ AND SHES GETTING A CHEESE PIZZA WITH MILK. THE END.
The Tray
Ahem. Next time you see a waitress whipping around the restaurant with a tray full of drinks raised high above her head, give her a high five. That shit is impressive. Next time you see a waitress leaving a table with their finished plates, turn back to the customers to answer a question and literally wind-mill pitch all of their uneaten food and plates at their faces, laps and table, put your arm around her and tell her she’s still doing great...
The Uniform
What, not feeling good about the fact that you’re working on a Friday night? Or that you're working alongside some of the biggest losers you’ve ever met? Then slip into these black clogs, short black pants and a man’s size, short-sleeved button down shirt, and you’ll start to feel better. And tuck it in!
The Servers
mostly disasters.
The Customers
Some people hated me, and rightfully so. When you make them wait an hour for pizza, and literally forget every small thing they ask you for, hatred is the result. One woman, my first week on the job, actually chose to get up from the table and leave her husband at the restaurant because she could no longer deal with me. Good thing I had good self-esteem.
But I had some customers who loved me, too, and they would ask to talk to my manager to tell them I did a great job. Once, these two old crazies wanted to talk to me about everything, from their childhood to their vacations in Italy. And I busted my butt to make them, and everyone else, happy. They wanted to talk to my manager about how much they loved me. “Send over your boss, Heidi.” Heidi!! I thought, aw HELL no, I need to make sure they get my name right. My manager gave them a phone number they could call to praise me, so they took down my name. “okay Heidi...oh Lannah? Larney? Okay, you were just a sweethaht, Lauren, good luck honey.” Turns out, they did give me a great review. I just really hope Lauren appreciated it.
The Food
I started my employment at Bertucci’s on one of my more serious, atkins-like diets and held out for a long time surviving on salads with grilled chicken or shrimp with lite Italian and lots of diet cokes. By the end of my time there I was eating any leftover pizza laying around and 3 rolls per shift. My pants were tight.
I cried before 75% of my shifts. So, this is really not a job I recommend for nervous 20 year olds. But, just in case, here is my advice: if you can't remember which drink was coke and which was root beer, do not sniff them when no one is looking. They are looking, and they will tell your boss that you are "drinking the sodas". ...Just guess.
The Orders
God, I was terrible at this. I tried so many different ways of writing in a note pad to try to help me who orderd appetizers, who ordered substitutes, what went where, what should come first, what sauce they wanted, etc. Oh, you want an appetizer? Yeah you're definitely not getting that. Oh, your son is allergic to cheese? Welp, better hope he doesn't eat too much of that "cheeseless" pizza because I'm not assertive enough to demand that the scary non-English speaking cooks roll out the dough on a clean surface. Oh you want me to put that baked dish back in the oven for 2 minutes? By 2 minutes I hope you meant 25 because thats how long it will take me to remember that I put it in there.
The Kids
Here's my advice. If you are ever going to subject yourself to serving, do not do it in a restaurant that caters to kids. The first time a kid asked me to play with dough, I looked at the mother for help in shutting this obnoxious idiot up. But another waitress came by and dropped off the "kid dough" that children can make their own pizza dough that we get to put in the oven like a real pizza, because thats the kind of time I have on my hands. I always just assumed kids liked black burnt play pizzas, because thats what they looked like each and every time I finally remembered to get them out of the oven. Ohhh, that is so cute, you're gonna let you're 4 year old daughter order her own meal off the kids' menu. "Honey, tell the lady you want a pizza ... do you want pepperoni? "ya" "you do?" "no" "oh you don't want peperoni honey?" "ya ... peanut butter m jelly" "... We don't have peanut butter and jelly." "Honey choose something off the men-SIR SHE IS TWO SHE CAN'T READ AND SHES GETTING A CHEESE PIZZA WITH MILK. THE END.
The Tray
Ahem. Next time you see a waitress whipping around the restaurant with a tray full of drinks raised high above her head, give her a high five. That shit is impressive. Next time you see a waitress leaving a table with their finished plates, turn back to the customers to answer a question and literally wind-mill pitch all of their uneaten food and plates at their faces, laps and table, put your arm around her and tell her she’s still doing great...
The Uniform
What, not feeling good about the fact that you’re working on a Friday night? Or that you're working alongside some of the biggest losers you’ve ever met? Then slip into these black clogs, short black pants and a man’s size, short-sleeved button down shirt, and you’ll start to feel better. And tuck it in!
The Servers
mostly disasters.
The Customers
Some people hated me, and rightfully so. When you make them wait an hour for pizza, and literally forget every small thing they ask you for, hatred is the result. One woman, my first week on the job, actually chose to get up from the table and leave her husband at the restaurant because she could no longer deal with me. Good thing I had good self-esteem.
But I had some customers who loved me, too, and they would ask to talk to my manager to tell them I did a great job. Once, these two old crazies wanted to talk to me about everything, from their childhood to their vacations in Italy. And I busted my butt to make them, and everyone else, happy. They wanted to talk to my manager about how much they loved me. “Send over your boss, Heidi.” Heidi!! I thought, aw HELL no, I need to make sure they get my name right. My manager gave them a phone number they could call to praise me, so they took down my name. “okay Heidi...oh Lannah? Larney? Okay, you were just a sweethaht, Lauren, good luck honey.” Turns out, they did give me a great review. I just really hope Lauren appreciated it.
The Food
I started my employment at Bertucci’s on one of my more serious, atkins-like diets and held out for a long time surviving on salads with grilled chicken or shrimp with lite Italian and lots of diet cokes. By the end of my time there I was eating any leftover pizza laying around and 3 rolls per shift. My pants were tight.
I cried before 75% of my shifts. So, this is really not a job I recommend for nervous 20 year olds. But, just in case, here is my advice: if you can't remember which drink was coke and which was root beer, do not sniff them when no one is looking. They are looking, and they will tell your boss that you are "drinking the sodas". ...Just guess.
HAHAHA omg I LOVED that sers laughedd outloud!!!whipping the plates at them omg now I def cant be a waitress. but when I hosted at bertuccis for the 3 months I did I ate like 7 rolls a shift- with the dipping sauce. Luckily derek was working there so I would tripple seat him all the time cause I was too scared of the line out the door and the other waitors and waitresses so I'd give them all to derek and hed hate me and make me sweep under the table. But I was so much happier sweeping under his tables than having to deal with angry lines of people waiting or other waitresses hating my life.
ReplyDeleteMy god. I remember that. Everything is going smoothly, then Maria seats 18 people at once at 3 of my tables, 2 of which hadnt been bussed yet. But yes, she swept under my table (whatever that means) so we're even.
ReplyDelete