Missing something?

I know that my cook made a slight mistake with your order. He mistakenly told me the marinara was in the dish to the left and the meat sauce was in the dish to the right. I apologize I did not tear into your meal to check for myself. I apologize that I was not able to see through the mound of cheese baked on top of your pasta made to order with "extra, extra" cheese to see my mistake. I am sorry that you were too busy talking to hear me tell you when I delivered the dishes that my cook told me which was which and politely suggest checking before I leave the table. You must have heard me say that I prepared the dishes myself and mixed them up on purpose.

I am deeply sorry that when the mistake was discovered, your meal was replaced in less than 2 minutes. Maybe I did not apologize enough, or you wanted more than the round of drinks the house bought you. It is possible that yelling at me did not bring you enough satisfaction. You are correct; I am an idiot, and I am sure your "retarded friend" could have gotten your order right, unlike myself.
Thank you for your 9% tip. This leaves me only having to pay a small amount in taxes for having the pleasure of waiting on you.

Just a bit of advice from the idiot waitress...don't leave your credit card behind next time you leave the waitress a bad tip. You are lucky as I am not one to act out of spite. Your card will safely be waiting for you Sunday when we reopen after the holiday. I only hope that you needed it for your fourth of July celebrating.

Help me Up

Ironically, yesterday the bartender that works Saturday afternoon, and has been at the Bar for 10 years, quit. A shift is open. I have to fight for this, but seniority is not on my side. I feel that I have earned the opprotunity to take a bartending shift through a year of hard work and going above and beyond for the Bar.
Every morning I arrive at work 20 minutes early. I finish the sidework that has been left by the night server and turn on the heat. Then I go to the office and print the specials for the day if they were not done the night before. I am the only employee that picks up this task. The others wait for the manager to do it when he gets there. Waiting for the manager means that the specials are being inserted into the menus while customers are there. By doing it before we open I am able to complete the task before any customers arrive.
After doing the specials I move on to the bar. I take the fruit out of the cooler or cut fruit as needed, turn on the bar TVs and speakers, pull the covers off the liquor, fill the sinks, and prepare the bar rags. By this time a customer has arrived and is sitting at the bar. I serve the customer(s) until the bartender arrives. She is always 15 to 30 minutes late for work. When she does arrive I receive no compensation for taking care of her first customers. During the next 3 hours I watch as the bar fills up and the bartender gets busy while I care for the 5 to 7 tables I will get for the day.
When I have been allowed to cover bartending shifts I always receive positive comments from the customers. They say I am fast and attentive. They also compair me to the other bartenders. The comparisons I am uncomfortable with because they usually say things about the faults of the other bartenders. It is also frustrating to hear that I am great at a job that I can not have.
So today and over the next few days I will be fighting for this shift. It is more than just being able to bartend. It is that I feel I have earned the opprotunity.
A little more than that, I have been trying to figure out a way that I can work less days and make the same amount of money. Being that I live in an apartment with no roommate I can't afford a cut in pay, but my full time work schedule is overloading me. I do not want to compromise school, just to work less days. If I got this bartending shift I could afford to work 3 days a week instead of 5 and have more freedom in choosing classes.
Wish me luck and I'd love to hear any advice anyone has!!

More Work, Less Pay

Business has slowed so dramatically at Sports Bar that I am left wondering if I will be able to afford my apartment, let alone things like food. I'm sure the story is the same everywhere, but I am seriously thinking about seeking employment elsewhere.
Monday I made a whopping $11 on the lunch shift. Because business is so bad the bosses have been cutting hours. The SA doesn't work Mondays anymore and as soon as lunch hours are over I am free to go. This works well for me as I have more time for homework and am freed from tipping anyone out.
Tuesday the SA didn't show up for work or call. Wednesday was the same story. I fear we have lost Ramon. This doesn't really present a problem with the bussing of tables as I am perfectly capable of doing this myself. The problem appears in the other duties our SA performs. The bar isn't being stocked, the floors are unswept, the dishes unwashed, and bustubs overflowing. I'm not sure that they will be filling the position since it is so slow. My job description is about to expand.
Yesterday morning was an indication of things to come. When I arrived at work I had to take all the chairs down from the table, roll silverware, set up the bar (my bartender was late), and not only put the specials in the menus, but actually type them out on the office computer. After an hour the place was finally set up (45 minutes after we opened).
I had more tables than I had Monday or Tuesday, but they came in one at a time. I would receive one table and, upon cashing them out, would receive another. I ended up staying at work until 5 and making less than $10 an hour,including my hourly. Beyond frustrated, I apologized to my bartender for being so crabby.
Today,in an attempt to make the day go better, I will be taking my own bustubs to the back of the house and washing my own dishes. It's not right that my cook would have to do this, I might as well help out. Besides, with business the way it is it will atleast provide something to keep me busy. The bartender working today has been complaining that she is getting sick so I will offer to send her home and complete her shift. If I have to stay past the lunch hours I atleast want to be doing more than caring for one table at a time!
I'm heading in early today so I can finish setting up by the time we open. It's going to be a long day.

Pick up artists

I have seen many posts on this issue, but what the hell. Here’s my two cents.
Hitting on the waitress.
I’ll start off with my theory on why this is so common.
I have been in the industry and out on the town enough to have observed many instances of guys hitting on the waitress, but not on, say a group of single women sitting at the table next to them. Why is this? I believe it’s because the waitress seems “available” simply by the nature of her job. She is friendly and keeps coming back to talk to you. She offers something many men are looking for; the desire to please. Most forget that this is her job. My brother says that guys hit on the waitress or bartender because that's "just what you do" when you go out with the guys.
I have the odd “luck” of getting hit on by guys frequenting the bar. They are not sitting at tables and therefore are not tipping me. Since they are customers of the bartender that cuts down on my obligation to be…”available”. Some may say that is a bad attitude to have, but I am there to make money. It’s not that I am unfriendly, simply that the conversations are awkward and forced. Also, they have been drinking at the bar for some time before approaching me so the combination of tipsy or buzzed patron and tired sober waitress does not make for good conversation. Also, and most importantly, I strongly feel that it is a bad idea to get involved with customers.
That being said, here are two examples of the guy you do not want to be at the bar.

A few years ago I worked at a bar whose main customer base was 20-something college students and corporate types. To place a drink order for a table the server had to stand at the server station at one end of the bar and wait for a bartender to come over. The server station was set up with a stack of trays, garnishes for drinks, straws, and coasters. It was obviously not the place to sit if you were a customer. It was located at the narrow end of the bar so there was no customer seating directly next to it.
There was a guy named Tim that would come in on the nights I worked and stand next to the server station at the bar so he could talk to me while I waited for drinks. This was distracting and intrusive. He probably thought he was being smooth or something by standing where he knew I would have to talk to him. Problem was I would often come across as rude because I was trying to work. I would interrupt the one sided conversation to order my drinks from the bar and when they were ready I would take them out. At first I would apologize and excuse myself, but eventually it got old and I would half ignore him. I figured he would understand that I was there working. Guess not because this continued for weeks. He asked me out a few times until I finally told him I had a boyfriend and pointed to one of the largest doormen employed at the place. I tried to reject him nicely but some people just don’t get it.

More recently…these both happened on Friday nights at Sports Bar. My bartender and I have an agreement that I fill my own drink orders and do not have to tip her out at the end of the night.
It’s been a busy night but is just starting to wind down. I’m behind the bar filling a drink order for one of my remaining tables when a guy at the bar started calling my name.
I look up to see what he wants.
“When you have a minute I want to talk to you.”
“OK,” I say a little apprehensively.” You can talk to me while I get these drinks.”
“When you have a minute I have a question for you.”
Is this guy hard of hearing or just dumb?
“OK, well I have a minute now while I make these drinks. What do you want to ask me?”
“I want to ask about your tattoos.” He says as he leans across the bar and reaches for my arm.
I take a step so I’m out of reach.” What about them?”
He leans even further and grabs my arm. With his other hand he starts rubbing the tattoo on my upper arm. I step back and pull my arm from his grasp.
“What’s your question?”
He asks where I got them and what they mean. I sigh and give him the scripted answer I give everyone specifically designed to discourage further questions. As I grab the drinks I have finished making he asks me to come back when I have a minute.
I tell him when I have time and make a mental note to look busy for the rest of the night. I still have 3 hours to go. A while later I am serving a table of regulars on the patio and see the Bar Guy sitting with them. I know he’s not friends with any of the people at my table so I pull aside one Daniel, one of the regulars.
“Did he just wander out here?” I ask.
“Yup. Don’t know why but he’s staring at you. He’s kinda creepy.” Daniel says as he glances over at Bar Guy.
Daniel returns to the table and I ask if anyone needs anything.
“I need you to talk to me when you have a minute.”
Will this guy ever quit?
“OK, but I am busy right now. Maybe when I have a minute I’ll find you.”
I walk inside to the POS. As I’m entering the order Bar Guy comes in and walks up to me.
“Listen, I just want to talk to you for a minute. Why won’t you talk to me?”
“I’m sorry, but you do understand that I am at work right? My table just ordered something so I have to go get it now.” I look him in the eye as I speak, wait several seconds, then walk away.
With an hour to go until close I start closing side work. Since the kitchen is closed I start with the specials board. I am kneeling on the floor by the board when I see someone walk up next to me. Bar Guy.
“Hey, looks like you have a minute now.”
“I guess.”
“Listen, I am just trying to talk to you, get to know you. Maybe ask you out. Do you want to get dinner sometime? You’re really pretty.”
I put down the marker I am using, prop myself up with one hand and lean back slightly to look up at him.
“OK, to be honest with you, I work here full time and I go to school full time. I barely have time for myself let alone to date. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not interested.” I pick up the marker and continue to write the weekend’s specials on the board.
“Hey, I understand but I’m just asking for dinner, maybe coffee. Not too much of your time. You can’t be too busy for that.”
“I appreciate the complements and the offer, but really I’m not interested.” I say without looking at him.
“I’m just saying, I’m a man, you’re a woman. You have needs. I get that and I can help you.”
At this I stand up and walk away. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m not interested.” I say as I walk away.
He goes back to the bar and stares at me for the rest of the night. He asks the bartender to call him a cab and calls my name again. I ask him to hang on a minute and go outside to check on my table. I hang out and talk to them for a while trying to kill time and waiting for his cab to get there. When I see it pull up I go inside and tell the bartender. I slip into the kitchen before he can say anything else.

I am not going to give any advice about the proper way to pick up your waitress of bartender. It’s almost always not a good idea and I am biased. I am not a fan. I know some people consider it “part of the job” but there is a line. Just be careful not to cross it. I guess I’ll leave it at that.

Rainy Day at Work

Friday night at work I was extremely busy. I was walking quickly from tables to the bar and back. It was wet outside and inevitably water was streaked all over the floor. Sometime around 10pm I was delivering a bottle of beer to a table of men and slipped on some water. I landed gracefully in a sitting position with my legs curved slightly. My knee took the weight of the fall. The men at my table all freaked out asking if I was OK. I found out later they all had daughters. I assured them I was and cracked a joke to break the tension. Some of the beer had splashed on the guy sitting closest to where I fell. As I was apologising to him, my manager came over and asked if I spilled beer on the guy. He said it wasn't that bad and that he was fine. The rest of the table told my manager I had slipped but he didn't seem to care about that. He apologized for me spilling beer on the guy and told me to bring another one to him on the house. His reaction to mewas very cold and not the least concerned. I was a bit surprised at this. Not only did he not care that I could have been hurt on the job at his place of business, but he reacted like I was clumsy for spilling on the customer (which was a minimal spill at most). I wish my other manager would come back to Friday nights.