Sunday, November 6, 2011
I didn't think this needed to be said.
Please, please, don't sexually harass your waitress. Especially in front of your family.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
A view from the other side.
I went out to dinner with my boyfriend tonight.
The service was mediocre.
From the time we started dating, my boyfriend has eagerly learned to be a better customer. He listens to my rants and frequently asks the most polite way to approach whatever scenario he ends up in. He genuinely wants to be as polite as possible, even when it's overkill.
Tonight he ordered some variation of surf and turf, a $30 special, and the steak came out way overcooked. The waitress didn't come back to see how it was; once she dropped off our dishes, she didn't come back at all until after we were both clearly done, with our plates pushed to the sides. While we waited for her to come check on us, he asked me how to nicely deal with his steak. He was considering saying nothing, but obviously felt unhappy about it. The waitress finally came by and quickly asked if we need boxes, leaving little time to give feedback, so my boyfriend panicked and just said yes. While she was getting boxes, we quickly discussed how to politely point out his shitty steak. So then she's going to get boxes and he still wants to know how to be polite and I said, "well when she comes back, you can politely say, "i just want to let you know that this was overcooked." He hadn't eaten it and he wasn't expecting anything for it, but he did want to acknowledge it. She came back with boxes and he spoke up about his steak. What did she say, you ask? She said, "Okay, that's fine."
What?!
The service was mediocre.
From the time we started dating, my boyfriend has eagerly learned to be a better customer. He listens to my rants and frequently asks the most polite way to approach whatever scenario he ends up in. He genuinely wants to be as polite as possible, even when it's overkill.
Tonight he ordered some variation of surf and turf, a $30 special, and the steak came out way overcooked. The waitress didn't come back to see how it was; once she dropped off our dishes, she didn't come back at all until after we were both clearly done, with our plates pushed to the sides. While we waited for her to come check on us, he asked me how to nicely deal with his steak. He was considering saying nothing, but obviously felt unhappy about it. The waitress finally came by and quickly asked if we need boxes, leaving little time to give feedback, so my boyfriend panicked and just said yes. While she was getting boxes, we quickly discussed how to politely point out his shitty steak. So then she's going to get boxes and he still wants to know how to be polite and I said, "well when she comes back, you can politely say, "i just want to let you know that this was overcooked." He hadn't eaten it and he wasn't expecting anything for it, but he did want to acknowledge it. She came back with boxes and he spoke up about his steak. What did she say, you ask? She said, "Okay, that's fine."
What?!
Monday, October 24, 2011
You know how I know you're an asshole?
Last night the restaurant was pretty dead. We literally had no customers outside of the bar. Then I got a walk-in party of ten. In the time it took me to go out back and pick up three salads, the dining room just about filled up. It was very busy very suddenly and the kitchen got a little backed up. I apologized to any table that had a semi-excessive wait and did what I could to make it more tolerable. Everyone was great- except for one family.
I brought bread, we paid for a round of their beers, and I checked in on them frequently and pleasantly. They were rude about the delay, but I can understand that frustration. After they were served dinner, no one had any complaints. Then my manager went over to apologize again and remind them that we were taking care of a round of drinks for them. Suddenly, the wife hated her food (which she was almost done with). My manager also comped that from the bill. They got a total of $31 worth of free food and drinks. They also had a $20 gift card. Their final bill was $12 and change. Do you know what they left me as a tip? $4. That, my friends, is how I know they were assholes.
I brought bread, we paid for a round of their beers, and I checked in on them frequently and pleasantly. They were rude about the delay, but I can understand that frustration. After they were served dinner, no one had any complaints. Then my manager went over to apologize again and remind them that we were taking care of a round of drinks for them. Suddenly, the wife hated her food (which she was almost done with). My manager also comped that from the bill. They got a total of $31 worth of free food and drinks. They also had a $20 gift card. Their final bill was $12 and change. Do you know what they left me as a tip? $4. That, my friends, is how I know they were assholes.
Monday, October 17, 2011
I can't even convey this as horribly as it went.
Last night I had the most horrible bitch customer from hell that I've ever dealt with.
She was half of a couple who looked rough around the edges. They gave me a bitch of a time ordering drinks; the woman ordered for the husband and snapped at me when I asked him something about it (sidenote: he later told me that he did not want that drink at all and ordered something else). I realized that the bartender was busy and not at all concerned with making my drinks in any kind of rush. I brought them waters and apologized for the wait in regards to their actual drinks. The lady was not pleased. In fact, she seemed downright exasperated. It had been all of about three minutes. She was already visibly frustrated and said, "well I'm very hungry and I want a drink!" I said I could take their dinner order if they were ready.
Neither of them brought their glasses, so they made no effort to read their menus.
Horrible bitch from hell: I want steak.
Me: There are at least five steak dinners on our menu.. and three dinner specials with steak.. do you know which one you'd like?
Horrible bitch from hell: I want steak.
Me: Okay well we have.. (at this point I literally started reading her the different steaks from her menu)
Horrible bitch from hell: Fine, I'll take (first one I said). I always get that.
(blahblahblah how do you want it cooked? soup or salad? etc)
Husband: What's the biggest steak you have?
Me: Well it's by weight-(interrupted)
Horrible bitch from hell: (interrupting) I (remember, this steak isn't even for her) don't care about the weight! Which is the biggest?!
Me: The steaks are measured out by weight, I'm not sure which is the largest but I can go ask the kitchen.
Horrible bitch from hell: (yelling, indignant) ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! You don't know the menu?!
Me: I know the menu very well, I just don't know the exact weight of each of our steaks.
She also wanted bread, "with real butter." I brought their salads and bread and within a few minutes, she had given the bread to a busser because she wanted "fresher bread."
Things did not get better with them as the night went on. They gave me a $4 tip on a $55 check. Once they left, however, the gentlemen (regulars at my bar) at the next table asked me what had happened. They had overheard her yelling at me. These are two very quiet and polite guys and one of them, after listening to my recount, said, "excuse my language but that's when I would tell her to go fuck herself."
She was half of a couple who looked rough around the edges. They gave me a bitch of a time ordering drinks; the woman ordered for the husband and snapped at me when I asked him something about it (sidenote: he later told me that he did not want that drink at all and ordered something else). I realized that the bartender was busy and not at all concerned with making my drinks in any kind of rush. I brought them waters and apologized for the wait in regards to their actual drinks. The lady was not pleased. In fact, she seemed downright exasperated. It had been all of about three minutes. She was already visibly frustrated and said, "well I'm very hungry and I want a drink!" I said I could take their dinner order if they were ready.
Neither of them brought their glasses, so they made no effort to read their menus.
Horrible bitch from hell: I want steak.
Me: There are at least five steak dinners on our menu.. and three dinner specials with steak.. do you know which one you'd like?
Horrible bitch from hell: I want steak.
Me: Okay well we have.. (at this point I literally started reading her the different steaks from her menu)
Horrible bitch from hell: Fine, I'll take (first one I said). I always get that.
(blahblahblah how do you want it cooked? soup or salad? etc)
Husband: What's the biggest steak you have?
Me: Well it's by weight-(interrupted)
Horrible bitch from hell: (interrupting) I (remember, this steak isn't even for her) don't care about the weight! Which is the biggest?!
Me: The steaks are measured out by weight, I'm not sure which is the largest but I can go ask the kitchen.
Horrible bitch from hell: (yelling, indignant) ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! You don't know the menu?!
Me: I know the menu very well, I just don't know the exact weight of each of our steaks.
She also wanted bread, "with real butter." I brought their salads and bread and within a few minutes, she had given the bread to a busser because she wanted "fresher bread."
Things did not get better with them as the night went on. They gave me a $4 tip on a $55 check. Once they left, however, the gentlemen (regulars at my bar) at the next table asked me what had happened. They had overheard her yelling at me. These are two very quiet and polite guys and one of them, after listening to my recount, said, "excuse my language but that's when I would tell her to go fuck herself."
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Something a little nicer
Last weekend I was bartending and there was a middle aged couple having dinner and drinks. They asked me a few questions about our bar and I chatted with them, they were nice to talk to. After they paid and I thanked them, they thanked me back. The man said, "You know, we don't get to go out much. Thanks for such a great night." I responded by thanking them for being polite and friendly, since we don't get that all too often either. People in restaurants love to speak up when something is wrong, but you don't get compliments (especially to managers, which feels amazing when it does happen) very often.
It never hurts to say a nice thing.
It never hurts to say a nice thing.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
I can't believe I have to explain this.
Our floors are dirty.
No matter how frequently they are cleaned, our floors are dirty. We have thousands of people walking around the restaurant every day, tracking through who-knows-what. We also spill plenty of booze and occasionally drop food. Please stop your fucking toddler from rolling around on the carpet; particularly in areas of heavy traffic. We are just waiting for someone to walk right into him, spill something on him, or step on his hand. It is dangerous for him and for our employees. It is also fucking disgusting.
Don't let your kids run free in restaurants unless there is a ball pit involved. If you are going to let them run around, be prepared for them to come back dirty, injured, or covered in germs. Also be prepared for your waitress (and everyone else working) to fucking hate you.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
No fucking way.
Last night and tonight, my bar is having big special events that are basically a couple of our busiest nights all year.
Last night I got to go in as a customer. I was sitting at table 41 and there was a couple at table 42, which I was facing. I saw the guy come back from the bathroom and he literally started eating before his butt was even back in his chair. It was strange. Then my friend (a waitress) came over and told me that, "that guy just puked all over the bathroom." He was facing the bathroom and I watched him as he watched people go in and out of the bathroom, trying to fix his mess. His waitress didn't know what to do, because she didn't think he was drunk. However, you don't puke in the SINK and then go back to eating and drinking beer. So my friend, acting as bartender/manager, went over and took the beer away. The guy got really angry and acted like he didn't know why. My friend pointed out that the guy had puked just about everywhere except for the toilet, and we find that unacceptable. The guy got even more angry, because he likely didn't want his date to know what he had done.
Here are some things we can learn from this guy:
1. if you puked in the toilet, we probably wouldn't freak out. maybe you just don't feel well.
2. if you puked in the sink and then told someone (you don't even have to take the blame! just say you found the sink that way) then we would appreciate that.
3a. if you puked in the sink and tried to pretend you didn't, you're going to get cut off.
3b. if you get cut off for puking in the sink, just fucking accept it. fighting it makes you seem belligerent and that makes us all the more happy to take your beer away.
Here are some things we can learn from this guy:
1. if you puked in the toilet, we probably wouldn't freak out. maybe you just don't feel well.
2. if you puked in the sink and then told someone (you don't even have to take the blame! just say you found the sink that way) then we would appreciate that.
3a. if you puked in the sink and tried to pretend you didn't, you're going to get cut off.
3b. if you get cut off for puking in the sink, just fucking accept it. fighting it makes you seem belligerent and that makes us all the more happy to take your beer away.
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