A guest angrily referred to me as "that bitch" today.
First time that's ever happened to me! I'm so proud... :)
[ degreed waitress ]
Showing posts with label stupid customer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stupid customer. Show all posts
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Well, it's finally happened...
Sunday, July 20, 2014
A whole new level of stupid
Today, a fellow server placed an entree in front of the lady who ordered it. One of the side dishes she chose was broccoli cheese casserole.
She looked at it in confused disappointment, then legitimately asked the server why there was broccoli in this broccoli cheese casserole.
She then proceeded to eat the entire casserole except for the broccoli.
[ degreed waitress ]
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
This literally just happened....
I’m cut for the night and minding my own business, sweeping my section.
A lady walks over to me from the next section over…
Lady: Could you get me a to-go box for my son’s food?
[ I cannot see her son’s plate from here. ]
Me: Sure! Would you like a large box or a small one?
Lady: Just large enough to put his food in.
Me [ What I wanted to say] : Well, no fuckin duh, lady. Now does he have a lot of food or just a little bit?
Me [ what I actually said ] : Of course, ma’am!
I brought her a large one with a large smile.
[ degreed waitress ]
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
To-Go Tips Galore! -- Tip #7
Okay, so I put you on hold. I realize neither of us wants that. But let's take a second, shall we? Let's think about why. Why did I put you on hold?
The answer really is quite simple -- Now's not a good time to talk.
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #7: If you want your food, then stay on the line.
This is a concept I've touched on before in a previous To-Go Tips Galore! post, but it certainly needs repeating.
I only have one computer, you know. I share that computer with my other bartenders. If one of them is ordering food or processing a payment for another guest, I have to wait to use the computer.
Please, dear caller, allow me to take two or three minutes to get some other things settled for the people standing directly in front of me, and then you can have all of my attention.
I promise I will come back to you.
I have two phone lines, and most of the time during the weekend rush, both of them are ringing simultaneously. I could very well be answering a to-go call on the other line while you're on hold.
I answer the calls in the order in which they came. So when you decide you've waited long enough, hang up and call back, guess what you've done? You've put yourself at the end of the line again. You're likely going back on hold to wait out a few more minutes.
Together, my fellow bartenders and I are processing the pickup and placement of to-go orders by the people standing right in front of us, serving food and drinks to the bar guests, making drinks the servers have ordered for the restaurant, and acting as our own bar-back, in addition to answering the two to-go phone lines.
And the last thing I, or my bar guests, could possibly want to hear while doing all of this is that God-forsakenly-annoying riiiiiiiiiiiing BEEP BEEP of the to-go lines. Putting a caller on hold solidifies his/her place in line while silencing that haunting noise.
Now if you've been on hold for ten minutes -- which is extremely rare [ and far more rare than the guests claim is occurring ] -- then, yes, hanging up and calling back is a good idea, because I have likely forgotten about you in my scurrying about. That's my bad. But seriously, don't yell at me. You chose to call in at 7pm on a Saturday night, or at 12:30 on a Friday afternoon, and so you have to deal with the consequences: longer wait times. What did you think I was doing? Just sitting around, twiddling my thumbs, hoping and wishing that you -- yes, you! -- would deign to call me so that I would finally, finally have something to do??
I cannot tell you how many people offhandedly comment upon arrival, "Well, I was gonna complain about how long you had me on hold for, but then I got here and saw how busy y'all are! I don't know you keep up with all this!"
Sometimes, our situation is exacerbated when we are extremely busy by the management blocking off one of our to-go lines to help save the kitchen from going down in flames. When the cooks are slammed with the food orders for hundreds of people actually seated in restaurant, adding five or six orders every three minutes or so for someone who's not even here yet can be the straw that breaks the camel's back. My standard, and fairly accurate, "15-20 minutes" quote time becomes "20-25 minutes." But this means that now I have only one to-go line. So if I'm talking to someone on that line, or someone is on hold, then no one else can place any to-go orders. Sure this kills my potential for tips from the lost to-go orders and can irritate some guests, but it maintains the kitchen's ability to function, which, from what I can tell, is pretty darn critical for a restaurant to operate.
This is yet another reason for you to stay on the line! Again, if I put you on hold, I'm coming back! There are anywhere from one to four bartenders working at any given moment, so if none of us can get to you at that precise moment you call, please be patient. My restaurant as a corporation technically does not support the to-go operation, but is forced to tolerate it, meaning that we don't have a designated to-go person. As in, on weekend evening shifts, we have four bartenders: one up to his neck in drink orders for the whole restaurant while two more are drowning in to-go orders, and the fourth is generally acting as the assistant, the "go fer" running the errands the other three need to stay afloat. And somehow between the four of us, we manage to serve our fifteen or so bar-top guests. Despite the corporate anti to-go stance, our store's to-go sales constitute 15% of the entire restaurant's sales. We would not even remotely need a fourth, or even a third, bartender on weekend nights if we had a smaller to-go operation. Even other stores in our chain here in the area would be crippled by the sheer volume of to-go orders that we handle routinely. We have a lot going on.
tl;dr: BE PATIENT, YOU IMPATIENT, ENTITLED JERKWAD. YOUR TIME WILL COME.
[ degreed waitress ]
The answer really is quite simple -- Now's not a good time to talk.
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #7: If you want your food, then stay on the line.
This is a concept I've touched on before in a previous To-Go Tips Galore! post, but it certainly needs repeating.
I only have one computer, you know. I share that computer with my other bartenders. If one of them is ordering food or processing a payment for another guest, I have to wait to use the computer.
Please, dear caller, allow me to take two or three minutes to get some other things settled for the people standing directly in front of me, and then you can have all of my attention.
I promise I will come back to you.
I have two phone lines, and most of the time during the weekend rush, both of them are ringing simultaneously. I could very well be answering a to-go call on the other line while you're on hold.
I answer the calls in the order in which they came. So when you decide you've waited long enough, hang up and call back, guess what you've done? You've put yourself at the end of the line again. You're likely going back on hold to wait out a few more minutes.
Together, my fellow bartenders and I are processing the pickup and placement of to-go orders by the people standing right in front of us, serving food and drinks to the bar guests, making drinks the servers have ordered for the restaurant, and acting as our own bar-back, in addition to answering the two to-go phone lines.
And the last thing I, or my bar guests, could possibly want to hear while doing all of this is that God-forsakenly-annoying riiiiiiiiiiiing BEEP BEEP of the to-go lines. Putting a caller on hold solidifies his/her place in line while silencing that haunting noise.
[ Side note: a bar guest the other day had the gall to ask us if we could silence the phone ringer. It took everything within me to not retort, "And how do you expect us to answer the phone if no one knows it's ringing?" ]
Now if you've been on hold for ten minutes -- which is extremely rare [ and far more rare than the guests claim is occurring ] -- then, yes, hanging up and calling back is a good idea, because I have likely forgotten about you in my scurrying about. That's my bad. But seriously, don't yell at me. You chose to call in at 7pm on a Saturday night, or at 12:30 on a Friday afternoon, and so you have to deal with the consequences: longer wait times. What did you think I was doing? Just sitting around, twiddling my thumbs, hoping and wishing that you -- yes, you! -- would deign to call me so that I would finally, finally have something to do??
I cannot tell you how many people offhandedly comment upon arrival, "Well, I was gonna complain about how long you had me on hold for, but then I got here and saw how busy y'all are! I don't know you keep up with all this!"
 |
| So what now, you self-entitled jerk? In yo' face! Maybe you should get your panties untwisted and you won't be so insufferably impatient! Stand there in awe at my epic multitasking skills! Revel in amazement at the sheer volume of sales I am conducting by the minute. Realize that you are significantly less important to me than you had initially presumed. And be patient in that line 'til it's your turn for my attention. So there. :) [ photo credit ] |
Sometimes, our situation is exacerbated when we are extremely busy by the management blocking off one of our to-go lines to help save the kitchen from going down in flames. When the cooks are slammed with the food orders for hundreds of people actually seated in restaurant, adding five or six orders every three minutes or so for someone who's not even here yet can be the straw that breaks the camel's back. My standard, and fairly accurate, "15-20 minutes" quote time becomes "20-25 minutes." But this means that now I have only one to-go line. So if I'm talking to someone on that line, or someone is on hold, then no one else can place any to-go orders. Sure this kills my potential for tips from the lost to-go orders and can irritate some guests, but it maintains the kitchen's ability to function, which, from what I can tell, is pretty darn critical for a restaurant to operate.
This is yet another reason for you to stay on the line! Again, if I put you on hold, I'm coming back! There are anywhere from one to four bartenders working at any given moment, so if none of us can get to you at that precise moment you call, please be patient. My restaurant as a corporation technically does not support the to-go operation, but is forced to tolerate it, meaning that we don't have a designated to-go person. As in, on weekend evening shifts, we have four bartenders: one up to his neck in drink orders for the whole restaurant while two more are drowning in to-go orders, and the fourth is generally acting as the assistant, the "go fer" running the errands the other three need to stay afloat. And somehow between the four of us, we manage to serve our fifteen or so bar-top guests. Despite the corporate anti to-go stance, our store's to-go sales constitute 15% of the entire restaurant's sales. We would not even remotely need a fourth, or even a third, bartender on weekend nights if we had a smaller to-go operation. Even other stores in our chain here in the area would be crippled by the sheer volume of to-go orders that we handle routinely. We have a lot going on.
tl;dr: BE PATIENT, YOU IMPATIENT, ENTITLED JERKWAD. YOUR TIME WILL COME.
 |
| [ photo credit ] |
[ degreed waitress ]
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Sunday, August 4, 2013
To-Go Tips Galore! -- Tip #6
I'm sure we've all looked at a restaurant's menu and found that *one* entrée that you would just love to get...... if it didn't have mushrooms.... or pineapples... or peanuts... whatever the case may be.
Perhaps you're allergic to the item. Perhaps you just plain don't like it.
Perhaps you're vegetarian and need to find a dish without any meat. Perhaps you're super vegetarian and need to find a dish without any chicken broth, bacon grease, or meat-related bases or flavors.
Some dishes you would need to avoid completely because they can't be modified in the way you would want. Some dishes can be modified easily, simply by clearly communicating your wants and needs to your server.
Whatever the case may be, it is your right and privilege to ask these questions of your server. It is the server's responsibility to know the answer. Or, if he doesn't know it immediately and with complete certainty, it is his responsibility to get the answer to you as soon as possible.
But here's the catch... ask informed questions. Asking vague questions gets you nowhere. Asking informed questions gets you answers.
There is a key difference between asking your server something completely vague, "What's good here?" and asking something slightly more specific, "What's your favorite dish?" The more specific, the better: "What's your favorite dish with grilled chicken?" Bingo. Get ready for a good conversation on the dinners available with grilled chicken, as well as a personalized recommendation.
The more information your server has about your food interests, the better he can tailor his suggestions to you. That is a key part of the service he provides in being a waiter. He can't help a customer pick a meal nearly as adequately without some cooperation from the customer herself. Otherwise, he's just going to resort to promoting the special of that day or week regardless of how much it would interest you, simply 'cause management told him to promote it -- or bribed him to, by means of competitions and prizes.
The question-asking scenarios get a little rougher when there's a pair of telephones in between the customer and the server, though. Usually that's 'cause the customer hasn't looked at a menu anytime recently [ but I've discussed this before ]...
To-Go Tips Galore! #6: Ask informed questions.
Regardless of the situation, I once again implore customers, especially those who place to-go orders via phone, to please take a few minutes to prepare your order -- including your questions -- before picking up the phone.
Want some [ unfortunately ] real examples from my daily experiences?
** "Uhh, yeah, hey, can I get a chicken salad?" is NOT acceptable.
[ All entrée salads have chicken on them. Unless specifically ordered otherwise. ]
** "What kind of chicken salads y'all got?" is NOT acceptable.
[ Same reason applies. Plus, If you just waited nearly five minutes on hold to talk to me, you can safely assume that I am busy helping other people. So why the hell would you think it's okay to ask me to explain the menu to you? ]
** "What sides y'all have?" is NOT acceptable.
[ With our recent new menu rollout, I now have nearly two dozen side dish options, including the price upgrade options. And the number of sides you get -- not to mention the prices -- varies depending on the category of entrées and sides selected. You're just going to order Fries and Broccoli Cheese Casserole anyway, so quit wasting my time asking me to list them all. ]
** "What is the size difference between the lunch and dinner portions of catfish?" IS acceptable.
[ One fillet versus two fillets. ]
** "Is the bourbon glaze spicy?" IS acceptable.
[ And no, it is not. It is, however, totally awesome. ]
** "Is it possible to add an extra breast of grilled chicken to that Alfredo pasta?" IS acceptable.
[ And yes, it is possible. Only $1.99 more. ]
** "What does the 'loaded' for your 'loaded baked potato' mean?" IS acceptable.
[ Butter, cheese, and sour cream. "No ma'am, no chives... No, we don't even have chives, ma'am... There won't be any chives on your baked potato whatsoever... No chives, I got it." ]
** "What do you mean 'loaded' don' come wit' bacon bits?! You serious I gotta pay 79 sint fo' bacon? Das crazy. Everywhurr else put bacon on dey potatoes! Nu-uh, I ain't payin' no extra fo' bacon bits!" IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.
[ If you want free bacon on your baked potato, go to a restaurant with bacon as part of their 'loaded.' *cough*Chili's*cough* Have fun making up for it by paying more for any of their entrées than you would have for any of ours. ]
[ degreed waitress ]
Perhaps you're allergic to the item. Perhaps you just plain don't like it.
Perhaps you're vegetarian and need to find a dish without any meat. Perhaps you're super vegetarian and need to find a dish without any chicken broth, bacon grease, or meat-related bases or flavors.
Some dishes you would need to avoid completely because they can't be modified in the way you would want. Some dishes can be modified easily, simply by clearly communicating your wants and needs to your server.
Whatever the case may be, it is your right and privilege to ask these questions of your server. It is the server's responsibility to know the answer. Or, if he doesn't know it immediately and with complete certainty, it is his responsibility to get the answer to you as soon as possible.
But here's the catch... ask informed questions. Asking vague questions gets you nowhere. Asking informed questions gets you answers.
There is a key difference between asking your server something completely vague, "What's good here?" and asking something slightly more specific, "What's your favorite dish?" The more specific, the better: "What's your favorite dish with grilled chicken?" Bingo. Get ready for a good conversation on the dinners available with grilled chicken, as well as a personalized recommendation.
The more information your server has about your food interests, the better he can tailor his suggestions to you. That is a key part of the service he provides in being a waiter. He can't help a customer pick a meal nearly as adequately without some cooperation from the customer herself. Otherwise, he's just going to resort to promoting the special of that day or week regardless of how much it would interest you, simply 'cause management told him to promote it -- or bribed him to, by means of competitions and prizes.
The question-asking scenarios get a little rougher when there's a pair of telephones in between the customer and the server, though. Usually that's 'cause the customer hasn't looked at a menu anytime recently [ but I've discussed this before ]...
To-Go Tips Galore! #6: Ask informed questions.
 |
| Here's a bright idea..... THINK!!! [ photo credit ] |
Regardless of the situation, I once again implore customers, especially those who place to-go orders via phone, to please take a few minutes to prepare your order -- including your questions -- before picking up the phone.
Want some [ unfortunately ] real examples from my daily experiences?
** "Uhh, yeah, hey, can I get a chicken salad?" is NOT acceptable.
[ All entrée salads have chicken on them. Unless specifically ordered otherwise. ]
** "What kind of chicken salads y'all got?" is NOT acceptable.
[ Same reason applies. Plus, If you just waited nearly five minutes on hold to talk to me, you can safely assume that I am busy helping other people. So why the hell would you think it's okay to ask me to explain the menu to you? ]
** "What sides y'all have?" is NOT acceptable.
[ With our recent new menu rollout, I now have nearly two dozen side dish options, including the price upgrade options. And the number of sides you get -- not to mention the prices -- varies depending on the category of entrées and sides selected. You're just going to order Fries and Broccoli Cheese Casserole anyway, so quit wasting my time asking me to list them all. ]
** "What is the size difference between the lunch and dinner portions of catfish?" IS acceptable.
[ One fillet versus two fillets. ]
** "Is the bourbon glaze spicy?" IS acceptable.
[ And no, it is not. It is, however, totally awesome. ]
** "Is it possible to add an extra breast of grilled chicken to that Alfredo pasta?" IS acceptable.
[ And yes, it is possible. Only $1.99 more. ]
** "What does the 'loaded' for your 'loaded baked potato' mean?" IS acceptable.
[ Butter, cheese, and sour cream. "No ma'am, no chives... No, we don't even have chives, ma'am... There won't be any chives on your baked potato whatsoever... No chives, I got it." ]
** "What do you mean 'loaded' don' come wit' bacon bits?! You serious I gotta pay 79 sint fo' bacon? Das crazy. Everywhurr else put bacon on dey potatoes! Nu-uh, I ain't payin' no extra fo' bacon bits!" IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.
[ If you want free bacon on your baked potato, go to a restaurant with bacon as part of their 'loaded.' *cough*Chili's*cough* Have fun making up for it by paying more for any of their entrées than you would have for any of ours. ]
[ degreed waitress ]
Monday, July 8, 2013
To-Go Tips Galore! -- Tip #5
Again with the [ not so ] common sense.
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #5: Pick up the menu. Before you pick up the phone.
Oh, and read it, too.
I've given this example before, but asking me for a side of macaroni and cheese when that side is listed absolutely nowhere on our menu is just plain stupid.
[ There is a rare exception to this statement: If you know -- and you know for absolute certain -- that there is a "secret menu item" -- an item regularly served yet not listed on the menu -- then you may, of course, order this item. ]
Telling me you want "that baked fish plate" is not only as far from helpful as you could possibly be, it is also a guaranteed way to make me hate you. I do not want to play "20 Questions" over the phone, but I swear people MUST think that I do because I have this exact conversation almost word-for-word at least three times a week:
Me -- How may I help you?
Caller -- I wanna get that baked fish plate.
Me -- We actually don't bake our fish. We have grilled and fried, though.
Caller -- Grilled, then.
Me -- Okay, well we have salmon, catfish, tilapia, and shrimp. Which would you like?
Caller -- I don't 'member which one it was, but it was grilled and on, like, a bed of rice.
Me -- Well, we actually serve each of them that way, but--
Caller -- Oh, hmm, well I guess, hmm, yeah, you can get me the grilled catfish.
Me -- Would you like the lunch or dinner portion?
Caller -- Dinner.
Me -- And would you like that with lemon pepper seasoning or blackened with Cajun spices? [ awkward silence of decision making ] Or perhaps one fillet of each?
Caller -- Blackened.
Me -- Okay, and what will your sides be?
Caller -- How many ya'get?
Me -- Two.
Caller -- Umm, I guess, hmm, I guess you can get me some fries. And what other sides y'all got?
Me -- [ lists over 15 side dish options ]
Caller -- I guess, get me some macaroni and cheese.
99% of the time, I am far too busy to spend two full minutes going back and forth on one entrée. Just do me a favor, pretty please? [ It's super easy, I promise ]
READ. THE. MENU.
Guess what?! It's even online!
That way, you can tell me very succinctly that you'd like the "Dinner portion of the Blackened Catfish with sides of x and y."
And guess what?! Now I don't hate you!
See how much easier that was?!?
[ degreed waitress ]
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #5: Pick up the menu. Before you pick up the phone.
Oh, and read it, too.
I've given this example before, but asking me for a side of macaroni and cheese when that side is listed absolutely nowhere on our menu is just plain stupid.
[ There is a rare exception to this statement: If you know -- and you know for absolute certain -- that there is a "secret menu item" -- an item regularly served yet not listed on the menu -- then you may, of course, order this item. ]
Telling me you want "that baked fish plate" is not only as far from helpful as you could possibly be, it is also a guaranteed way to make me hate you. I do not want to play "20 Questions" over the phone, but I swear people MUST think that I do because I have this exact conversation almost word-for-word at least three times a week:
Me -- How may I help you?
Caller -- I wanna get that baked fish plate.
Me -- We actually don't bake our fish. We have grilled and fried, though.
Caller -- Grilled, then.
Me -- Okay, well we have salmon, catfish, tilapia, and shrimp. Which would you like?
Caller -- I don't 'member which one it was, but it was grilled and on, like, a bed of rice.
Me -- Well, we actually serve each of them that way, but--
Caller -- Oh, hmm, well I guess, hmm, yeah, you can get me the grilled catfish.
Me -- Would you like the lunch or dinner portion?
Caller -- Dinner.
Me -- And would you like that with lemon pepper seasoning or blackened with Cajun spices? [ awkward silence of decision making ] Or perhaps one fillet of each?
Caller -- Blackened.
Me -- Okay, and what will your sides be?
Caller -- How many ya'get?
Me -- Two.
Caller -- Umm, I guess, hmm, I guess you can get me some fries. And what other sides y'all got?
Me -- [ lists over 15 side dish options ]
Caller -- I guess, get me some macaroni and cheese.
 |
| I die a little inside with each occurrence of this conversation. [ photo credit ] |
99% of the time, I am far too busy to spend two full minutes going back and forth on one entrée. Just do me a favor, pretty please? [ It's super easy, I promise ]
READ. THE. MENU.
Guess what?! It's even online!
That way, you can tell me very succinctly that you'd like the "Dinner portion of the Blackened Catfish with sides of x and y."
And guess what?! Now I don't hate you!
See how much easier that was?!?
[ degreed waitress ]
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Wait, when did jalapenos turn into sexism?
Around 3:45 on Wednesday, a server brings a stack of boxes down to the to-go end of my bar. One of the side house salads fell off the stack, spilling rabbit food onto the floor area just in front of the sink and trash can. He apologizes and says he's going to get a new salad and help clean up the fallen one. [ wanna guess which task he didn't do? ...P.S. either way, your guess is right.]
Around 3:50, a man walks in and sits down in the to-go area. In fact, his spot at the bar is directly over the sink. I'll call him Statler. [ The resemblance was uncanny! No, seriously! If that Muppet were human... ] Statler is oozing discontent from every pore, and I am not looking forward to whatever interaction is to come. He tells me he'll be placing a to-go order, and that he needs a menu. As he glances over it, I continue to tidy up and wipe down any surface I can reach.
A few minutes later, Statler says he's ready to order -- every guest's favorite lie. We only make it to the second item -- the Trio Sampler appetizer -- before he has to look at the menu again to actually choose the items that would make up the trio. Yeah. "Ready," my ass.
He looks down and furrows his brow in decision-making. This decision should take 10 seconds max. But no, apparently this is some sort of critical ordeal that must be reasoned out thoroughly. After about 20 seconds of standing there in awkward mutual silence, I am quite tempted to walk off and just leave him to his thoughts. Let him call me over when he's actually ready. But there's no way of doing that without appearing rude. Sigh. Looks like I get to just stand here. Awkwardly waiting. Knowing Raymond will walk in any moment. And all I want to do is get things clean for him.
"I know!" my brain exclaims, "I'll clean up this lettuce! Cleaning without walking away -- excellent! self-five!*" I squat down pick up most of the lettuce, stand up, and drop them leaf things into the trash can. I squat back down to pick up the rest of the tidbits, when lo and behold! he's finally ready. Ugh, awkward timing.
"Okay! What can I get ya?" I ask from the ground. I finally finished picking up all the lettuce, threw it away, and washed my hands in the sink while he anwered my question. He lists his choices, tell me he wants no jalapenos anywhere on or near his nachos, and then lists all the dipping sauces he wants. Yay for full and complete orders! :) I dry my hands, place the order, and bring him a complimentary glass of sweet tea while waits.
About those jalapenos, though.... guess what button I completely forgot to press?
** ding ding ding, we have a winner!
Well, technically I did press the "no jalapenos" button. But there were so many other modifications that the guy made, and the Squirrel [ our computer system ] was being so, well, squirrely [ per usual ] that I had to delete and re-do several of the modifiers so many times that, by the third go-round, I didn't notice that I'd inadvertently left off the jalapeno directive.
I thought nothing of it again until about 15 minutes later [ about 4:10pm ] as I opened the box in front of the guest to show him the finished product.
"Oh, no! Jalapenos! I am so sorry. I'll go get this fixed right now."
I picked up the box, grabbed the order's ticket, and started towards the kitchen. I snuck a look at the ticket to see if the mistake was my fault or the kitchen's. The words "no jalapenos" were nowhere to be found. Damn. It was mine.
"Wait," he snapped. "I don't want them to just take off the jalapenos 'cause it'll still have the hot on there."
In my head, I totally snickered. First of all, "hot" isn't a noun. Secondly, how intolerant to jalapenos ARE you? These really aren't that hot. But, hey, in his defense, he is old and white. Also in his defense, I did say "I'll go get these fixed." My words did not adequately reveal my plan of action -- whether I would have the cooks simply pick off the jalapenos or have the cooks completely restart the nachos.
"Oh no, sir," I corrected. "I'm going to have them make fresh nachos for you."
"Well, how long is that gonna take?"
"Only a few minutes."
Since it is well enough after 4 o'clock, it would actually take less time to make the nachos the second time around than it did the first time; 4pm is the clock-in time for the first wave of PM shift cooks and by now they've completed their shift change and are settled into position. Prior to that -- as when I first placed Statler's order -- there are only 2 cooks left from the AM shift, so things take just a few minutes longer. But of course I didn't get the opportunity to explain that the recooking would take far less time than the original cooking.
[ Also, about this time, Raymond appeared behind the bar out of freakin' nowhere, till and towels in hand. Damn. I am so not ready for him. ]
"No, no. It's going to take too long. The rest of the order is going to get cold!" Statler protested. "I want the whole thing remade."
My face dropped and my eyebrows shot up. I put the box of nachos down on top of the other three boxes of food and braced myself against the bar. "You want us to remake the entire order, not just the nachos?" I repeated slowly. Not gonna lie, I had a little attitude in my voice. Somehow I held myself back from blurting out, "IT'S TO-GO FOOD, DUDE. IT'S GOING TO BE COLD ONCE YOU GET TO WHEREVER YOU'RE GOING ANYWAYS." Yay for self-restraint!
"Yes, I want you to remake the order," he repeated.
"Alright --" I quickly snatched up the entire stack of food. "-- I'll go throw all of this away for ya," I snapped at him through a thin veil of politeness. I turned and walked away, only getting about two steps away before he stopped me, "Now, you wait a second. I wanna talk to your manager. Bring him over for me." He motions towards Raymond who is completely oblivious to my situation, as he is currently in his I-need-45-minutes-of-silence-when-I-first-walk-in-to-my-shift bubble, an is walking away from the bar and towards the kitchen. "Hah!" I thought. "He thinks Ray is a manager. Can't he see that Ray is wearing the exactly the same uniform I am?" Whatever.
"Sure, I'll get a manager," I actually said. And resumed walking.
The only "manager" available at the time was Jackie, a Floorwalker. [ A Floorwalker is an experienced and trusted server promoted to assist the management on a shift-by-shift basis. Floorwalkers dress professionally like a real manager, interact with guests as if they are a real manager, and essentially act as the bosses' filter, as they have the authority to handle the more minor issues ]. Luckily, Statler won't know that Jackie isn't a real manager. I explained the situation to her -- including the fact that the error was my fault and that I gave Statler an inappropriate amount of attitude. Jackie set out to handle my mess, and I instructed the cooks to start again on the order with no jalapenos whatsoever.
I avoided the conversation between the two of them so that I could cool myself down a bit and focus on the rest of my cleaning. Plus, Statler stood up to tower over Jackie when she approached -- between his height [ and her lack thereof ], his attitude, and his overall demeanor, he looked quite formidable. Throughout the conversation, Jackie's face showed a mix of helpless and flabbergasted, with a side of trying-to-maintain-her-composure; I couldn't help but wonder what was being said. Ten minutes later, and Statler's food finished before he did. Raymond silently bagged up the boxes, and watched as Statler left. Luckily, Jackie filled me in on what I'd missed.
He told her everything she already knew about the situation -- the jalapenos, the attitude. He also mentioned that he thought that I'd been washing my hands in a dirty sink because he saw the lettuce on my hands. *false* Furthermore, he claimed he was afraid to get his order remade because he didn't want us to mess with his food. He thought that I would spit in his food before I walked out of the kitchen. *also false*
The conversation quickly changed course, though, when Statler exclaimed that "Ever since she [ motioning towards me ] and that big one [ referring to one of my bartender friends Sybil, another thick white girl like myself..... but taller and thicker ] started working back there, this bar has "gone to shit." *definitely false* He continued with more rather sexist comments for the majority of the conversation, all leading up to his final statement, "I don't know why they let you people behind the bar anyways!" -- complete with a condescending sneer and a direct point towards Jackie's chest.
The entire time, Jackie was trying ineffectively to get a word in edgewise. Each attempt of "Sir--," "I underst--," "Well--," "I apologize--," etc. was interrupted with the next part of his tirade or with an even more infuriated, "No you do NOT understand! How can you? You keep interrupting me! You're not even listening to what I am saying. This is not how you talk to a customer." He trampled all over her, then took his fresh food and left the restaurant without paying. [ Jackie's exact words? "Basically I just bent over and took it." ]
Jackie trudged jaw-dropped back to the office and related the story to our Kitchen Manager Melissa and myself. Melissa became infuriated when she heard the story. Forget about Melissa's perfect blond hair -- with her fire, I'd swear she was a natural redhead like me. I seriously would have paid money to see her talk to Statler. But, alas. Her outburst was only for our ears.
"Why didn't you stand up to him, Jackie?!? You don't have to let him talk to you like that! Oh, I wish I had been the one who talked to him. I would have given him a piece of my mind!"
Jackie mumbled and bumbled something about "didn't know we could talk back to a customer..."
Melissa is pacing the three square feet of open space in the office. "We have the right to refuse service to anyone. And when someone makes a personal attack against our employees, I don't think we should take that! ...I mean, seriously, half of our bartenders are female. You're a female. Most of the other Floorwalkers are female. Three out of our five managers -- including our General Manager -- are female! We need to stand up to that kind of shit! I would have told him that if he can't be respectful, then he should take his sexist business elsewhere, that he and his money were no longer welcome in our restaurant!"
Jackie blinked as if she were about to crumble under her guilt of not having stood up for me. And for all of us.
Naturally, I turned to my phone and posted a snarky Facebook status:
"Didn't realize that I was born with the wrong genitalia to be competent behind a bar. Whoops. My bad."
My favorite responses?
"What dude goes to a bar to get waited on by a dude?"
followed by, "It's not like we're stirring the drinks with our junk..."
*le sigh* What an ordeal. I don't even know what to make of it all.
[ degreed waitress ]
 |
| [ photo credit ] |
A few minutes later, Statler says he's ready to order -- every guest's favorite lie. We only make it to the second item -- the Trio Sampler appetizer -- before he has to look at the menu again to actually choose the items that would make up the trio. Yeah. "Ready," my ass.
He looks down and furrows his brow in decision-making. This decision should take 10 seconds max. But no, apparently this is some sort of critical ordeal that must be reasoned out thoroughly. After about 20 seconds of standing there in awkward mutual silence, I am quite tempted to walk off and just leave him to his thoughts. Let him call me over when he's actually ready. But there's no way of doing that without appearing rude. Sigh. Looks like I get to just stand here. Awkwardly waiting. Knowing Raymond will walk in any moment. And all I want to do is get things clean for him.
 |
| [ photo credit ] |
"Okay! What can I get ya?" I ask from the ground. I finally finished picking up all the lettuce, threw it away, and washed my hands in the sink while he anwered my question. He lists his choices, tell me he wants no jalapenos anywhere on or near his nachos, and then lists all the dipping sauces he wants. Yay for full and complete orders! :) I dry my hands, place the order, and bring him a complimentary glass of sweet tea while waits.
About those jalapenos, though.... guess what button I completely forgot to press?
** ding ding ding, we have a winner!
Well, technically I did press the "no jalapenos" button. But there were so many other modifications that the guy made, and the Squirrel [ our computer system ] was being so, well, squirrely [ per usual ] that I had to delete and re-do several of the modifiers so many times that, by the third go-round, I didn't notice that I'd inadvertently left off the jalapeno directive.
I thought nothing of it again until about 15 minutes later [ about 4:10pm ] as I opened the box in front of the guest to show him the finished product.
"Oh, no! Jalapenos! I am so sorry. I'll go get this fixed right now."
I picked up the box, grabbed the order's ticket, and started towards the kitchen. I snuck a look at the ticket to see if the mistake was my fault or the kitchen's. The words "no jalapenos" were nowhere to be found. Damn. It was mine.
"Wait," he snapped. "I don't want them to just take off the jalapenos 'cause it'll still have the hot on there."
In my head, I totally snickered. First of all, "hot" isn't a noun. Secondly, how intolerant to jalapenos ARE you? These really aren't that hot. But, hey, in his defense, he is old and white. Also in his defense, I did say "I'll go get these fixed." My words did not adequately reveal my plan of action -- whether I would have the cooks simply pick off the jalapenos or have the cooks completely restart the nachos.
"Oh no, sir," I corrected. "I'm going to have them make fresh nachos for you."
"Well, how long is that gonna take?"
"Only a few minutes."
Since it is well enough after 4 o'clock, it would actually take less time to make the nachos the second time around than it did the first time; 4pm is the clock-in time for the first wave of PM shift cooks and by now they've completed their shift change and are settled into position. Prior to that -- as when I first placed Statler's order -- there are only 2 cooks left from the AM shift, so things take just a few minutes longer. But of course I didn't get the opportunity to explain that the recooking would take far less time than the original cooking.
[ Also, about this time, Raymond appeared behind the bar out of freakin' nowhere, till and towels in hand. Damn. I am so not ready for him. ]
"No, no. It's going to take too long. The rest of the order is going to get cold!" Statler protested. "I want the whole thing remade."
My face dropped and my eyebrows shot up. I put the box of nachos down on top of the other three boxes of food and braced myself against the bar. "You want us to remake the entire order, not just the nachos?" I repeated slowly. Not gonna lie, I had a little attitude in my voice. Somehow I held myself back from blurting out, "IT'S TO-GO FOOD, DUDE. IT'S GOING TO BE COLD ONCE YOU GET TO WHEREVER YOU'RE GOING ANYWAYS." Yay for self-restraint!
"Yes, I want you to remake the order," he repeated.
"Alright --" I quickly snatched up the entire stack of food. "-- I'll go throw all of this away for ya," I snapped at him through a thin veil of politeness. I turned and walked away, only getting about two steps away before he stopped me, "Now, you wait a second. I wanna talk to your manager. Bring him over for me." He motions towards Raymond who is completely oblivious to my situation, as he is currently in his I-need-45-minutes-of-silence-when-I-first-walk-in-to-my-shift bubble, an is walking away from the bar and towards the kitchen. "Hah!" I thought. "He thinks Ray is a manager. Can't he see that Ray is wearing the exactly the same uniform I am?" Whatever.
"Sure, I'll get a manager," I actually said. And resumed walking.
The only "manager" available at the time was Jackie, a Floorwalker. [ A Floorwalker is an experienced and trusted server promoted to assist the management on a shift-by-shift basis. Floorwalkers dress professionally like a real manager, interact with guests as if they are a real manager, and essentially act as the bosses' filter, as they have the authority to handle the more minor issues ]. Luckily, Statler won't know that Jackie isn't a real manager. I explained the situation to her -- including the fact that the error was my fault and that I gave Statler an inappropriate amount of attitude. Jackie set out to handle my mess, and I instructed the cooks to start again on the order with no jalapenos whatsoever.
I avoided the conversation between the two of them so that I could cool myself down a bit and focus on the rest of my cleaning. Plus, Statler stood up to tower over Jackie when she approached -- between his height [ and her lack thereof ], his attitude, and his overall demeanor, he looked quite formidable. Throughout the conversation, Jackie's face showed a mix of helpless and flabbergasted, with a side of trying-to-maintain-her-composure; I couldn't help but wonder what was being said. Ten minutes later, and Statler's food finished before he did. Raymond silently bagged up the boxes, and watched as Statler left. Luckily, Jackie filled me in on what I'd missed.
He told her everything she already knew about the situation -- the jalapenos, the attitude. He also mentioned that he thought that I'd been washing my hands in a dirty sink because he saw the lettuce on my hands. *false* Furthermore, he claimed he was afraid to get his order remade because he didn't want us to mess with his food. He thought that I would spit in his food before I walked out of the kitchen. *also false*
The conversation quickly changed course, though, when Statler exclaimed that "Ever since she [ motioning towards me ] and that big one [ referring to one of my bartender friends Sybil, another thick white girl like myself..... but taller and thicker ] started working back there, this bar has "gone to shit." *definitely false* He continued with more rather sexist comments for the majority of the conversation, all leading up to his final statement, "I don't know why they let you people behind the bar anyways!" -- complete with a condescending sneer and a direct point towards Jackie's chest.
The entire time, Jackie was trying ineffectively to get a word in edgewise. Each attempt of "Sir--," "I underst--," "Well--," "I apologize--," etc. was interrupted with the next part of his tirade or with an even more infuriated, "No you do NOT understand! How can you? You keep interrupting me! You're not even listening to what I am saying. This is not how you talk to a customer." He trampled all over her, then took his fresh food and left the restaurant without paying. [ Jackie's exact words? "Basically I just bent over and took it." ]
Jackie trudged jaw-dropped back to the office and related the story to our Kitchen Manager Melissa and myself. Melissa became infuriated when she heard the story. Forget about Melissa's perfect blond hair -- with her fire, I'd swear she was a natural redhead like me. I seriously would have paid money to see her talk to Statler. But, alas. Her outburst was only for our ears.
"Why didn't you stand up to him, Jackie?!? You don't have to let him talk to you like that! Oh, I wish I had been the one who talked to him. I would have given him a piece of my mind!"
Jackie mumbled and bumbled something about "didn't know we could talk back to a customer..."
Melissa is pacing the three square feet of open space in the office. "We have the right to refuse service to anyone. And when someone makes a personal attack against our employees, I don't think we should take that! ...I mean, seriously, half of our bartenders are female. You're a female. Most of the other Floorwalkers are female. Three out of our five managers -- including our General Manager -- are female! We need to stand up to that kind of shit! I would have told him that if he can't be respectful, then he should take his sexist business elsewhere, that he and his money were no longer welcome in our restaurant!"
Jackie blinked as if she were about to crumble under her guilt of not having stood up for me. And for all of us.
Naturally, I turned to my phone and posted a snarky Facebook status:
"Didn't realize that I was born with the wrong genitalia to be competent behind a bar. Whoops. My bad."
My favorite responses?
"What dude goes to a bar to get waited on by a dude?"
followed by, "It's not like we're stirring the drinks with our junk..."
*le sigh* What an ordeal. I don't even know what to make of it all.
[ degreed waitress ]
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
To-Go Tips Galore! -- Tip #4
I *thought* that this would be common sense. I forgot that common sense just isn't common. smh.
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #4: Know who you're ordering for. Before you place an order.
It's dinner rush on Friday night.
You have just called my restaurant, and the new sixteen-year-old hostess at the front who can't be bothered with walking guests to their tables because she might ruin her makeup, so she just stands there answering the phone has just transferred your to-go phone call to me at the to-go area [ aka the bar ].
I'm in the middle of helping at least one or two or seven other guests at this time, so after about a minute or two of listening to the annoying as hell riiiiiiiiiiiing BEEP BEEP signifying that the Queen of England [ or whoever you think you are ] is waiting to talk to me, I will finally answer the phone with the cheerful, albeit slightly rushed greeting, "[ my restaurant ] To-Go, please hold," press the hold button, and put down the phone so fast that I have no idea if you've even heard me or not. [ okay, okay... sometimes I stay on the line long enough to utter a pleasant thank you. ]
My next task is to navigate to a stopping point in the pickup and placement of orders by the people standing right in front of me [ not to mention serving food and drinks to the bar guests, making drinks the servers have ordered for the rest of the restaurant, answering the OTHER to-go phone line, and being my own bar-back, etc. ] and get back to your call. Usually I can get to the phone within 2 - 3 minutes. Sometimes though, it's five minutes... and no, I'm not proud of that, but there ya go.
Now I finally give you my time. I pick up your phone line and greet with you an actually genuine "Thank you so much for holding. My name is [ degreed waitress ]. How may I help you?"
It is now your time to speak.
I give you all my [ largely ] undivided attention, and you give me all the food orders you could possibly imagine. All the menu-related questions you hold. All the special modifications you need. All the extra dressings your little heart desires. All the separate check specifications. Bring it. I'm ready. Anything else to clog your arteries, Your Highness? My time is yours.
It is NOT, however, the time for you to start figuring out who will be eating.
Don't waste my time making me listen to you ask your cousin, your auntie, your nana, your friend, your baby daddy, or [ God forbid ] your four-year-old world's-least-intelligent kid if they want anything to eat from our restaurant tonight. You had plenty of time to assemble everyone's orders while you were on hold. And even more time before you picked up that phone.
So, please, make everyone's life a little easier and take a few minutes to find out who is hungry before you call me.
[ degreed waitress ]
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #4: Know who you're ordering for. Before you place an order.
It's dinner rush on Friday night.
You have just called my restaurant, and the new sixteen-year-old hostess at the front who can't be bothered with walking guests to their tables because she might ruin her makeup, so she just stands there answering the phone has just transferred your to-go phone call to me at the to-go area [ aka the bar ].
I'm in the middle of helping at least one or two or seven other guests at this time, so after about a minute or two of listening to the annoying as hell riiiiiiiiiiiing BEEP BEEP signifying that the Queen of England [ or whoever you think you are ] is waiting to talk to me, I will finally answer the phone with the cheerful, albeit slightly rushed greeting, "[ my restaurant ] To-Go, please hold," press the hold button, and put down the phone so fast that I have no idea if you've even heard me or not. [ okay, okay... sometimes I stay on the line long enough to utter a pleasant thank you. ]
My next task is to navigate to a stopping point in the pickup and placement of orders by the people standing right in front of me [ not to mention serving food and drinks to the bar guests, making drinks the servers have ordered for the rest of the restaurant, answering the OTHER to-go phone line, and being my own bar-back, etc. ] and get back to your call. Usually I can get to the phone within 2 - 3 minutes. Sometimes though, it's five minutes... and no, I'm not proud of that, but there ya go.
Now I finally give you my time. I pick up your phone line and greet with you an actually genuine "Thank you so much for holding. My name is [ degreed waitress ]. How may I help you?"
It is now your time to speak.
I give you all my [ largely ] undivided attention, and you give me all the food orders you could possibly imagine. All the menu-related questions you hold. All the special modifications you need. All the extra dressings your little heart desires. All the separate check specifications. Bring it. I'm ready. Anything else to clog your arteries, Your Highness? My time is yours.
It is NOT, however, the time for you to start figuring out who will be eating.
 |
| [ photo credit ] |
So, please, make everyone's life a little easier and take a few minutes to find out who is hungry before you call me.
[ degreed waitress ]
Thursday, May 9, 2013
To-Go Tips Galore! -- Tip #3
The to-go food ordering process can be a complex relationship at times, but believe me -- all it takes is a little trust.
If I can manage to trust that you -- a complete stranger -- will actually show up to claim your order like you say you will, thus ensuring that the time and effort put forth both by myself and by the entire kitchen staff [ not to mention the restaurant's food, and therefore money ] aren't completely wasted, then you should be able to trust that I actually know the menu of my own restaurant.
Apparently, many customers hold so tightly to their motto, "The customer is always right," that it somehow supersedes all logic, and it miraculously still applies when they are not even inside the restaurant, have not yet even become customers, and are not in possession of any reading materials [ i.e. menus ] -- whether in print or online -- which would spell out how to become a customer.
Since I becoming a to-go order processor [ aka bartender ], I have been surprised on a daily basis at how easily upset and offended the to-go callers can be at the revelation of little tidbits of menu information. They routinely argue with me about anything and everything remotely contrary to their preconceived notions of what our restaurant serves.
This leads me to today's tip...
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #3: Trust the person taking your order.
**If I tell you the entrée comes with one side dish, not two, then the entrée comes with one side dish, not two.
[ Choose just one or pay for the second. It's that easy, really. ]
**If I tell you that we don't serve mac 'n' cheese, then we don't serve mac 'n' cheese.
[ You're going to pass Boston Market on the way here, so why don't you just stop there instead, yeah? ]
**If I tell you that we can't take the onions out of the chicken tortilla soup, then we can't take the onions out of the chicken tortilla soup.
[ Besides, do you really want us fishing around inside your bowl of soup, picking out the bits of chopped onion one-by-one, all by hand? I don't think so. Oh wait, you didn't actually think that our made-from-scratch soup is made one bowl at a time, did you? That's just cute. ]
**If I tell you that we stopped serving half-orders of onion rings over a year ago, then we stopped selling half-orders over a year ago.
[ And by "stopped serving" them, I don't just mean, "The managers said 'no,' but don't worry, random customer, I'm totally going to break the rules just for you." I mean, I don't have even the ability to order them anymore. The button itself is no longer existent. Therefore, NO you did NOT get a half-order here "just last week." Unless you went to a different branch. And that branch would have to be a franchise, not corporate, because that change was corporate-wide. And the nearest franchise-owned restaurant in our chain is a couple hundred miles away. So if you were there last week, then yeah, you probably did get the half-order of onion rings when you ordered them. But if you were here, like you're so adamantly insisting, then no, you did not get them last week, and no, you will not get them this week. So please stop arguing with me. ]
**If I -- and the menu -- tell you that all things labeled "chicken tenders" are fried chicken tenders and all things labeled "grilled chicken breasts" are grilled chicken breasts, then guess what? That's how it is. "Chicken Tenders" are not grilled, and "chicken breasts" are not fried.
[ I know, I know, it's all so confusing. It's like the restaurant should just make a detailed list of what's in every single entrée and make it easily accessible by putting that list on every single table and in front of every single guest..... ]
Essentially what it comes down to is this...
I had to prove thorough knowledge of our menu in order to complete training and even be allowed to work here.
I have worked here, serving food from this menu, nearly every day for the past two years.
I have eaten here, eating food from this menu, nearly every day for the past two years.
I have trained dozens of new hires to become excellent servers, and that includes teaching them the details of this menu.
Let's just say I know the menu.
Therefore,
**If I make a menu-related comment, then please assume it to be fact. Do not argue, as you will only make yourself look stupid.
Unless, of course, that was your original intent. Then, by all means, go right ahead.
Either way, thank you for unintentionally gifting me the subsequent momentary feeling of intellectual superiority. That's the chicken [ tortilla ] soup for my soul.
[ degreed waitress ]
If I can manage to trust that you -- a complete stranger -- will actually show up to claim your order like you say you will, thus ensuring that the time and effort put forth both by myself and by the entire kitchen staff [ not to mention the restaurant's food, and therefore money ] aren't completely wasted, then you should be able to trust that I actually know the menu of my own restaurant.
Apparently, many customers hold so tightly to their motto, "The customer is always right," that it somehow supersedes all logic, and it miraculously still applies when they are not even inside the restaurant, have not yet even become customers, and are not in possession of any reading materials [ i.e. menus ] -- whether in print or online -- which would spell out how to become a customer.
Since I becoming a to-go order processor [ aka bartender ], I have been surprised on a daily basis at how easily upset and offended the to-go callers can be at the revelation of little tidbits of menu information. They routinely argue with me about anything and everything remotely contrary to their preconceived notions of what our restaurant serves.
This leads me to today's tip...
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #3: Trust the person taking your order.
**If I tell you the entrée comes with one side dish, not two, then the entrée comes with one side dish, not two.
[ Choose just one or pay for the second. It's that easy, really. ]
**If I tell you that we don't serve mac 'n' cheese, then we don't serve mac 'n' cheese.
[ You're going to pass Boston Market on the way here, so why don't you just stop there instead, yeah? ]
**If I tell you that we can't take the onions out of the chicken tortilla soup, then we can't take the onions out of the chicken tortilla soup.
[ Besides, do you really want us fishing around inside your bowl of soup, picking out the bits of chopped onion one-by-one, all by hand? I don't think so. Oh wait, you didn't actually think that our made-from-scratch soup is made one bowl at a time, did you? That's just cute. ]
**If I tell you that we stopped serving half-orders of onion rings over a year ago, then we stopped selling half-orders over a year ago.
[ And by "stopped serving" them, I don't just mean, "The managers said 'no,' but don't worry, random customer, I'm totally going to break the rules just for you." I mean, I don't have even the ability to order them anymore. The button itself is no longer existent. Therefore, NO you did NOT get a half-order here "just last week." Unless you went to a different branch. And that branch would have to be a franchise, not corporate, because that change was corporate-wide. And the nearest franchise-owned restaurant in our chain is a couple hundred miles away. So if you were there last week, then yeah, you probably did get the half-order of onion rings when you ordered them. But if you were here, like you're so adamantly insisting, then no, you did not get them last week, and no, you will not get them this week. So please stop arguing with me. ]
**If I -- and the menu -- tell you that all things labeled "chicken tenders" are fried chicken tenders and all things labeled "grilled chicken breasts" are grilled chicken breasts, then guess what? That's how it is. "Chicken Tenders" are not grilled, and "chicken breasts" are not fried.
[ I know, I know, it's all so confusing. It's like the restaurant should just make a detailed list of what's in every single entrée and make it easily accessible by putting that list on every single table and in front of every single guest..... ]
Essentially what it comes down to is this...
I had to prove thorough knowledge of our menu in order to complete training and even be allowed to work here.
I have worked here, serving food from this menu, nearly every day for the past two years.
I have eaten here, eating food from this menu, nearly every day for the past two years.
I have trained dozens of new hires to become excellent servers, and that includes teaching them the details of this menu.
Let's just say I know the menu.
Therefore,
**If I make a menu-related comment, then please assume it to be fact. Do not argue, as you will only make yourself look stupid.
Unless, of course, that was your original intent. Then, by all means, go right ahead.
Either way, thank you for unintentionally gifting me the subsequent momentary feeling of intellectual superiority. That's the chicken [ tortilla ] soup for my soul.
[ degreed waitress ]
Thursday, April 11, 2013
To-Go Tips Galore! -- Tip #2
What is your name?
[ degreed waitress ]
What is your quest?
To eradicate to-go food ordering stupidity.
What is your favorite color?
Teal! No, green! No! Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #2: Pay attention to what the person taking your order is saying.
I answered your call pleasantly, saying "[ my restaurant ] To-Go, thank you for holding. Can I get the name for your order please?"
Guess what?! I didn't just say that same spiel for the seventy-third time tonight just for giggles and grins. No, there's actually a reason! I need your name first. So when you ignore my question and shoot off three or four rapid-fire orders all the while I'm trying to sneak in a repeat of the question, "Hold on a moment, ma'am, can I get your name please?" then you have the audacity to rudely snap "No! I'm not finished yet!" and keep ordering... then you have NO right to be pissed off when I politely state, "I'm sorry ma'am, but I can't take your order until I have your name." A super offended "Excuse me?" is NOT called for, but luckily you've finally shut up long enough for me to explain, "My computer system won't allow me to start a food order without a name for the order. Which is why I asked you for your name first. So what name can I put your order under?"
By the way, lady, in those few moments of deafening silence, I could just hear you shrink in embarrassment. And I kinda enjoyed it. So, uh, thanks for that ;)
[ p.s. Thanks also for sending your son to pick up the food. He's always really nice and tips really well. ]
[ degreed waitress ]
[ degreed waitress ]
What is your quest?
To eradicate to-go food ordering stupidity.
What is your favorite color?
Teal! No, green! No! Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #2: Pay attention to what the person taking your order is saying.
I answered your call pleasantly, saying "[ my restaurant ] To-Go, thank you for holding. Can I get the name for your order please?"
 |
| What is your name? [ photo credit ] |
By the way, lady, in those few moments of deafening silence, I could just hear you shrink in embarrassment. And I kinda enjoyed it. So, uh, thanks for that ;)
[ p.s. Thanks also for sending your son to pick up the food. He's always really nice and tips really well. ]
[ degreed waitress ]
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
To-Go Tips Galore! -- Tip #1
As I have recently stated, the vast majority of my job as a bartender is, in fact, handling all to-go orders instead of handling bar drinks.
Through these interactions, it has come to my attention that very few people know how to navigate the to-go food waters smoothly, which has inspired me to compile an ever-growing list of suggestions for anyone who engages in to-go food transactions.
Most people who read these might actually glean something worthwhile from this series.
The rest of you, however, can celebrate that your common sense and basic intelligence sets you apart from the hordes of idiots I have to deal with each day. Therefore, y'all can read these posts for the sadly humorous interactions with some of those not-as-intellectually-blessed.
Regardless of where you fit into all this, my To-Go Tips Galore! shall be broken into multiple posts so as to save your lovely eyes from exhaustion. And so we begin!
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #1: Know what restaurant you're calling.
Ordering the Crispy Chicken Crispers is a fantastic idea! ...that is, if you're calling Chili's. I do not (have never, nor will ever) work at Chili's. Do not use Chili's terminology when you're placing an order with me, an employee of the restaurant that is not only around the corner from Chili's, but also is it's direct competitor.
And when I clarify with you, "Oh, you mean the Chicken Tender Platter? The Crispers are at Chili's." please do NOT disregard my statement and just continue, "Yeah, well, I want the Crispy Chicken Crispers." If you are in a Chili's mindset when you come into my restaurant, then nothing we serve you will be what you expected, and you are less likely to be pleased. And theoretically we aim to please.
Furthermore, if the restaurant you are calling is part of a chain, please make sure that the branch you call and the branch you show up to are the same one. I don't want your five boxes of unclaimed food cluttering up my counter for three hours before we have to throw it away and thus severely damage our food costs any more than you want to show up and discover that your food is, in fact, not ready so you have to sit there waiting for it to be made and thus eliminating the advantage of calling ahead. In short, don't waste everyone else's time and money just because you're too stupid to do a simple Google search.
[ degreed waitress ]
Through these interactions, it has come to my attention that very few people know how to navigate the to-go food waters smoothly, which has inspired me to compile an ever-growing list of suggestions for anyone who engages in to-go food transactions.
Most people who read these might actually glean something worthwhile from this series.
The rest of you, however, can celebrate that your common sense and basic intelligence sets you apart from the hordes of idiots I have to deal with each day. Therefore, y'all can read these posts for the sadly humorous interactions with some of those not-as-intellectually-blessed.
Regardless of where you fit into all this, my To-Go Tips Galore! shall be broken into multiple posts so as to save your lovely eyes from exhaustion. And so we begin!
To-Go Tips Galore! Tip #1: Know what restaurant you're calling.
Ordering the Crispy Chicken Crispers is a fantastic idea! ...that is, if you're calling Chili's. I do not (have never, nor will ever) work at Chili's. Do not use Chili's terminology when you're placing an order with me, an employee of the restaurant that is not only around the corner from Chili's, but also is it's direct competitor.
| [ photo credit ] |
Furthermore, if the restaurant you are calling is part of a chain, please make sure that the branch you call and the branch you show up to are the same one. I don't want your five boxes of unclaimed food cluttering up my counter for three hours before we have to throw it away and thus severely damage our food costs any more than you want to show up and discover that your food is, in fact, not ready so you have to sit there waiting for it to be made and thus eliminating the advantage of calling ahead. In short, don't waste everyone else's time and money just because you're too stupid to do a simple Google search.
[ degreed waitress ]
Sunday, March 17, 2013
"Sometimes, on Sunday mornings...
Saturday, February 9, 2013
You said what?
Pico de gallo. Pronounced "peek-oh day guy-oh" by anyone who's been here in Texas longer than five minutes.
Or so I thought.
Nope. Clive the old fart gringo called up last night to order some "kway-sa-dill-luhs" to-go. Oh, but "hold the "pike-oh dey gal-loh. And you can give me some sour cream."
Facepalming must be my favorite thing about taking phone to-go orders, really; I mean, I do it so often..
[ degreed waitress ]
Or so I thought.
Nope. Clive the old fart gringo called up last night to order some "kway-sa-dill-luhs" to-go. Oh, but "hold the "pike-oh dey gal-loh. And you can give me some sour cream."
Facepalming must be my favorite thing about taking phone to-go orders, really; I mean, I do it so often..
[ degreed waitress ]
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
What planet are you from, lady?
Miss Picky at table 82 complained about literally every part of her meal. Some highlights...
First, she complained about her Strawberry Lemonade: "These strawberries aren't fresh. I want fresh strawberries." Despite multiple explanations, she still apparently couldn't comprehend that we don't even have fresh strawberries, only a thawed strawberry compote. Somehow, this required a manager.
Then, she sent this salad back for being "too brown and wilty."
Huh?
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Hydration frustration
Let's pretend you're eating at my restaurant. And I am your server. If I were to approach your table and say,
"Hey, guys! How're y'all
doing?" you would most likely answer …"good"…
Maybe if you're
particularly friendly, you might say… "good, and you?"
Or maybe you're
feeling apathetic today ("I'm doin' alright...").
Or overly energetic
("Great!" or "Fantastic!") ….more often than not I fall
into that last category, to be honest.
But no, not the people I serve.
Instead, I have this conversation fifty-seven times a day:
Me: "Hey,
guys! How're y'all doing?"
Guest:
"Strawberry lemonade"
Hold the phone.
Strawberry lemonade
is a status of wellbeing now? I had NO idea! Thank you for enlightening me!
This is why (if I
actually make it to the part of my opening spiel where I introduce myself and
ASK about drink preferences), I prefer to just simply ask what you want to
drink. Sure, we're supposed to push
"coke, tea, or lemonade" with every table. Or the "drink focus of the week"
(thank you, Corporate). But frankly, I
don't do that. Wanna know why? Because I don't want to remind you that I even
have flavored teas and lemonades.
See, asking for tea
usually means unsweetened tea. But
honey, this is Texas. We drink a little tea with
our sugar here, so quit using my entire caddy of fake sugar that I'll have to
refill later and just get the sweet tea that actually tastes good (unless you
have a really good reason, like you're diabetic, then go ahead). But then of course, if a guest wants a sweet tea, there's a good chance she's going
to want a flavored tea--because God forbid her tea actually taste like tea.
In concept, the
process really is quite simple. First I
have to make a glass of regular lemonade or tea and ring in the drink, and then
go to the bar where the bartender will give the flavoring as ordered. If it's a tea, I have to shake it and garnish
the rim of the first glass served.
Ta-daa. But in practice, these
flavored concoctions are a pain in the neck when the restaurant is
busy. They are time consuming and darn
well annoying. I have to wait for the bartender(s) to get to a stopping point
amidst serving the handful of people seated at the bar, processing dozens of
simultaneous to-go orders, and making headway through the constantly growing
list of alcoholic beverages ordered--you know, actually doing his own job--so that he can finally reach the
opportunity to acknowledge me and this lady's fruit needs. I may spend a good two or three minutes at
the bar simply waiting for the bartender.
That two or three minutes effectively doubles the amount of time it
takes me to bring the drinks to the table.
I can't drop off the teas and lemonades
at the bar and go take care of another task and just come back to pick
them up because then the bartenders won't know which tea belongs to which
server and which flavor to squirt in--so unattended teas get ignored. That two
or three minutes is lost unnecessarily and occasionally frustrates the guests
because of how long it's taking me to get her drinks.
Once I serve this
guest a fruit lemonade or a fruit-infused tea (Yes, it's called infused now.
Why? Because I shook the damn
thing, so now it's fancy.), one of two things is going to happen:
1--She hates it:
"This Strawberry Lemonade is too tart!"
Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to warn you that our lemonade is flavored
from lemons. Which are tart. And yes, I'm also sorry that the one dollop of juicy
strawberry compote, which by the way has as much sugar as an entire can of
soda, isn't sweet enough to meet your sugar overdose needs! Can I get you something else instead?
Usually she'll just
ask for another scoop of strawberries (back to the bar!). Or switch to a soda
(off to find a manager so I can start the hour long process of reminding him
three or four times to remove the first drink from the check).
2--She guzzles it
down. As in.. She sucked down every last
drop of lemonade and is now using her fork or straw or fingers or something to
grab out all the last bits of the pink fruit-based clump. And I haven't even finished
taking the party's entrée orders. So
annoying. Now, thanks to Miss Sugar
Addict over here, I have to choose between getting her a refill right away and
ordering the table's food. Either the
whole party's food order will be delayed because she's dehydrated, or she's
going to continue to be empty and thus get frustrated with me. And then shake
her glass at me while I'm five feet away assisting another tables. Guess what, I'm going to choose
entering in the food orders every time.
And then bring her two drinks at a time to make it obvious that she's
ridiculous: "Here ya go, sweetie. I brought you two since you're so
thirsty, and I thought I'd save myself the extra trip," flashing her a
smile that's sweeter and faker than those strawberries.
[ degreed waitress ]
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
facepalming at table 13
On a recent Monday afternoon, in that slow crawl between 2:00 and 4:00pm, I approach Table 13 to deliver my opening spiel. On my left sits a woman, and across from her, her husband. As the woman looks over the bar drink menu, she begins to ask me questions about the different margaritas we have.
Here are her options:
1) the house margarita (on the rocks or frozen),
2) the grande margarita (a larger glass with higher class liquors, still on the rocks or frozen),
3) some sort of flavored version of the first two options,
or 4) a handcrafted specialty margarita (only available on the rocks).
Standard assortment, I might say.
Somehow, this woman does not seem to understand that ALL margaritas have tequila in them.
Lady: *points at a picture* "Can I get tequila in this margarita?"
Me: "Yes, ma'am, all of our margaritas have tequila."
Lady: *points at a different picture* "Well, what about this one? Can I get tequila in this one too?"
Me: "Yes, ma'am, all of our margaritas have tequila."
About five minutes of Alcohol 101 later, she finally decides on the house frozen strawberry margarita. Then she asks for a half-glass of water. Half. Why? I have no flippin' clue. But she also wants a bowl of lemons. (Yay! I love giving guests free lemonade! Not.)
The conversation was tough to struggle through, because on top of her alcohol ignorance, she was having difficulty speaking. Not in a lisp or speech impediment sort of way, but in a FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND HOLY IN THIS WORLD, CAN YOU PLEASE USE A COMPLETE SENTENCE!?! OR BETTER YET, COULD YOU MAYBE EVEN JUST TAKE A HALF-SECOND TO THINK BEFORE YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH!?! sort of way.
She was so incoherent that, at first, I seriously thought she was already plastered. I dreaded the idea of calling over the manager so that we could refuse to serve her more alcohol. Then, I observed that her husband's body language was entirely too relaxed for this to be the case. If she was actually drunk and babbling like an idiot in public, he would probably be entertained (I know I would be!) or have some sort of reaction. But no, he was casually reading over the entree menu and texting. And thus I realized something worse -- this level of stupid was not, in fact, drunkenness. It was her normal behavior.
Usually, taking the drink and appetizer orders for a table of two will take about one minute. Tops. This took at least five. Which means my guests at Table 24, whose half-empty glasses I had planned on refreshing when I brought 13's drinks, for the sake of efficiency, are now sitting completely empty. And my guests at 14 are sitting with filled to-go boxes, waiting with waning patience for their checks. Luckily, both tables actually observed me standing at Table 13 the whole time--and not just putzing around--and I had established a good enough report with them that they were still in overall good spirits and left decent tips.
I finally get back into the kitchen. Make the drinks for 13 and 24.. Order the margarita and the appetizer.. Print the check for 14.. Deliver said items. And now we get to the food order.
*deep breath*
Lady: "Okay, hmm. I seem to remember.. Hmm. Okay, I think I want... Don't y'all have, like, a grilled tilapi?"
No, that wasn't a typo. She said "tilapi." As in "tuh-la-pee." Not "tuh-la-pee-uh," like it's supposed to be. Perhaps she doesn't actually know, just like with the margaritas. I have no place to judge her pronunciation or level of intelligence.....but still, it took all that I had to stifle my laughter.
"Yes, ma'am," I said, "We have this Grilled Tilapia with Mango Salsa," and pointed to the description on the menu.
The description (if any of my guests was to ever actually read the menu) notes that the blackened tilapia and the mango salsa are served with blackened shrimp, all atop a bed of seasoned rice, along with two side dishes--which are listed about 8 or 9 inches to the right of the tilapia's description, along the facing page.
"Yeah, I want that!" she said. "But I don't want no rice."
"Okay, I can tell the cooks not to put any on there for ya."
"Do I get to have a side dish instead?"
"Well, I can take the rice out, but I can't substitute another side dish for it, because the rice is considered just a garnish. Regardless, your entree still comes with two side dishes."
What ensued was an additional five minutes of re-explaining and re-explaining that she only gets two side dishes with her meal, regardless of the presence of rice on her plate, and that a third dish would cost extra. Finally the husband even pipes in, in the hopes of making her understand and expediting the situation. Finally she gets it, and decides she wants carrots and a baked potato.
I order the entrees and bring out the appetizer. The lady loves her margarita and asks for a cup of ice for her half-glass of water. The drinks remain pretty full, so I pretty much ignored that table as much as possible until their entrees were ready. I do my "two minute two bite" check back after the delivery, and all is well. Then a few minutes after that, she calls out to me and waves me down...while I am taking the order of the new guests at Table 14.
[By the way, this is a guaranteed way to make your server hate you]
I complete taking 14's order and walk the three feet over to her table to see what is all of a sudden the matter. With her fork, the lady is moving around the mango salsa with a look of discontent on her face.
"What--what is this?"
"That's the mango salsa, ma'am," I replied.
"Well, what's this yellow stuff?"
"That's mango, ma'am."
"Uh, what's that?"
"It's a fruit?" I stated, incredulously.
Who hasn't heard of a mango?
"Do you not like it?"
"Hmm.. Not really."
"Can I get you something else that you would prefer instead?"
"No, I'll just scrape it off."
Interestingly enough, the woman became increasingly coherent the more she drank, which was a blessing. And they left just over 20% on their tip, which was beautiful :D
[ degreed waitress ]
Here are her options:
1) the house margarita (on the rocks or frozen),
2) the grande margarita (a larger glass with higher class liquors, still on the rocks or frozen),
3) some sort of flavored version of the first two options,
or 4) a handcrafted specialty margarita (only available on the rocks).
Standard assortment, I might say.
Somehow, this woman does not seem to understand that ALL margaritas have tequila in them.
Lady: *points at a picture* "Can I get tequila in this margarita?"
Me: "Yes, ma'am, all of our margaritas have tequila."
Lady: *points at a different picture* "Well, what about this one? Can I get tequila in this one too?"
Me: "Yes, ma'am, all of our margaritas have tequila."
About five minutes of Alcohol 101 later, she finally decides on the house frozen strawberry margarita. Then she asks for a half-glass of water. Half. Why? I have no flippin' clue. But she also wants a bowl of lemons. (Yay! I love giving guests free lemonade! Not.)
The conversation was tough to struggle through, because on top of her alcohol ignorance, she was having difficulty speaking. Not in a lisp or speech impediment sort of way, but in a FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND HOLY IN THIS WORLD, CAN YOU PLEASE USE A COMPLETE SENTENCE!?! OR BETTER YET, COULD YOU MAYBE EVEN JUST TAKE A HALF-SECOND TO THINK BEFORE YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH!?! sort of way.
She was so incoherent that, at first, I seriously thought she was already plastered. I dreaded the idea of calling over the manager so that we could refuse to serve her more alcohol. Then, I observed that her husband's body language was entirely too relaxed for this to be the case. If she was actually drunk and babbling like an idiot in public, he would probably be entertained (I know I would be!) or have some sort of reaction. But no, he was casually reading over the entree menu and texting. And thus I realized something worse -- this level of stupid was not, in fact, drunkenness. It was her normal behavior.
Usually, taking the drink and appetizer orders for a table of two will take about one minute. Tops. This took at least five. Which means my guests at Table 24, whose half-empty glasses I had planned on refreshing when I brought 13's drinks, for the sake of efficiency, are now sitting completely empty. And my guests at 14 are sitting with filled to-go boxes, waiting with waning patience for their checks. Luckily, both tables actually observed me standing at Table 13 the whole time--and not just putzing around--and I had established a good enough report with them that they were still in overall good spirits and left decent tips.
I finally get back into the kitchen. Make the drinks for 13 and 24.. Order the margarita and the appetizer.. Print the check for 14.. Deliver said items. And now we get to the food order.
*deep breath*
Lady: "Okay, hmm. I seem to remember.. Hmm. Okay, I think I want... Don't y'all have, like, a grilled tilapi?"
No, that wasn't a typo. She said "tilapi." As in "tuh-la-pee." Not "tuh-la-pee-uh," like it's supposed to be. Perhaps she doesn't actually know, just like with the margaritas. I have no place to judge her pronunciation or level of intelligence.....but still, it took all that I had to stifle my laughter.
"Yes, ma'am," I said, "We have this Grilled Tilapia with Mango Salsa," and pointed to the description on the menu.
The description (if any of my guests was to ever actually read the menu) notes that the blackened tilapia and the mango salsa are served with blackened shrimp, all atop a bed of seasoned rice, along with two side dishes--which are listed about 8 or 9 inches to the right of the tilapia's description, along the facing page.
"Yeah, I want that!" she said. "But I don't want no rice."
"Okay, I can tell the cooks not to put any on there for ya."
"Do I get to have a side dish instead?"
"Well, I can take the rice out, but I can't substitute another side dish for it, because the rice is considered just a garnish. Regardless, your entree still comes with two side dishes."
What ensued was an additional five minutes of re-explaining and re-explaining that she only gets two side dishes with her meal, regardless of the presence of rice on her plate, and that a third dish would cost extra. Finally the husband even pipes in, in the hopes of making her understand and expediting the situation. Finally she gets it, and decides she wants carrots and a baked potato.
I order the entrees and bring out the appetizer. The lady loves her margarita and asks for a cup of ice for her half-glass of water. The drinks remain pretty full, so I pretty much ignored that table as much as possible until their entrees were ready. I do my "two minute two bite" check back after the delivery, and all is well. Then a few minutes after that, she calls out to me and waves me down...while I am taking the order of the new guests at Table 14.
[By the way, this is a guaranteed way to make your server hate you]
I complete taking 14's order and walk the three feet over to her table to see what is all of a sudden the matter. With her fork, the lady is moving around the mango salsa with a look of discontent on her face.
"What--what is this?"
"That's the mango salsa, ma'am," I replied.
"Well, what's this yellow stuff?"
"That's mango, ma'am."
"Uh, what's that?"
"It's a fruit?" I stated, incredulously.
Who hasn't heard of a mango?
"Do you not like it?"
"Hmm.. Not really."
"Can I get you something else that you would prefer instead?"
"No, I'll just scrape it off."
Interestingly enough, the woman became increasingly coherent the more she drank, which was a blessing. And they left just over 20% on their tip, which was beautiful :D
[ degreed waitress ]
Friday, July 27, 2012
Dear customer, you're a genius.
Customer: "Uhh what's that one salad called? It's got, like, pecans on it and, like, grilled chicken..."
Server: "The Grilled Chicken Pecan Salad?"
Customer: "Yeah, that's it! I want that one!"
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