I’m not here to complain, I’m just a storyteller and this is a story that begs to be told. My week was quite fruitful and that makes all of what I put up with worth it in the end, but the fact remains that the public needs to be educated on what goes on at my job. You see, my story is not unlike countless stories across this great nation, as I know full well there are waitresses every minute of the day dealing with some asshole. You know how they have those statistics…a baby is born in America every three minutes or something? I haven’t done any formal research, but I can bet the waitress stat would read: every 30 seconds, a customer treats a waitress like shit…or every 60 seconds some dumbass pronounces Gyro wrong at a Detroit Coney Island…or every three minutes an idiot says let me speak to your manager. Like I said, I haven’t conducted any studies, but through my 16 years on the job I was able to run up a couple estimated figures. So, as Sophia Petrillo would say, I digress…picture it and sit back and let me tell you the sordid tale that was The Week of July 10th at Onassis.
Monday July 10th, 2017
Got a family of three, man orders two cups of coffee at one time because he drinks it too fast: an initial red flag has been waved. They get their food and I come back for my first check back and to refill his coffee–again. “How is everything?” I ask in my professional voice. “FO, FO LUMPS I found in these grits!” His response startles me in its idiocy but I recover and offer something different? No. Ok, I’ll take them off the bill. So once you are no longer paying for an item, things should go more smoothly, right? Wrong. I come back with the edited bill and more coffee, only to get this in response: “FIVE! FIVE LUMPS I found in these grits now!!” “Sir, I took them off your bill, you want me to take them away from the table?” You know since you find your wife’s grits so fucking upsetting and you are not paying for them but yet she continues to slop them around in her bowl like a child who doesn’t want to eat for their mom. On the last check back, I have little hope they will ever leave and wonder if I went to hell upon death, would this be what it would be like for me. Sure enough this mother fucker, before I even say anything, goes: “SIX LUMPS! SIX LUMPS IN THESE GRITS!! I’m a chef and I just want to bring this to your attention!” I mean you fucking DID! Three times!!! I GODDAMN KNOW! For my seemingly endless frustration I was awarded $5.00 and a pretty funny story to share with my coworkers. Funny NOW, but not funny in real time.
July 11th, 2017
This is the day the rains came. Whenever it rains, we get stupid busy. Nothing too standout, just a lot of people insisting on sitting at tables we hadn’t had a chance to clean yet and the general hum of annoyance and exhaustion from us waitresses. For my troubles, I made excellent money and rewarded myself with an afterwork nap.
July 12th, 2017
The rains came again today. I was supposed to be off but got called in, this casts a shadow from the jump. To make matters worse, customers were more perverted than usual…maybe it was the humidity. The standout moment was when the weird pallet delivery guy was in the middle of telling me and my coworkers how I “got it going on” and raping me with his eyes when the old, fat business man came up to cash out. Happiness that someone interrupted situation A quickly faded when he told me he just got a divorce and that it would be much better if I was single too. As I thought in my head how these two instances were connected and how he thought they could possibly be connected and came up with the notion he must not look in the mirror, EVER. But men will try, they figure, hey we can at least try, right? I uncomfortably fake laughed through him calling me sexy, warning me to not stop being sexy and then when they both agreed I “had it going on”. For the sexual harassment, I received a $5.00 tip and took an extra long shower that day.
July 13th, 2017
The last shift before my day off. We were crazy busy. In the middle of lunch rush, a fellow vacationing coworker sends us a poolside, feet up in a lawn chair shot and inquires how work is. Text back: Fuck you, FO LUMPS and continue to suffer. Then it finally happened, the end of the day was approaching, my freedom in sight, positivity started to fill my body as it usually does when the end is near. But God a different plan. First, I accidentally entered a $5001.10 tip into the credit card machine. If you edit more than once on a tip, the owner has to call to get a code to fix it. Good conversation to have with Mario at the end of the day. He seems more than mildly irritated and I feel like a raging dumb ass. Thankfully, it gets busy so I don’t have to stand there awkwardly while he cusses out the credit card company for even needing the code anyways. Just as the discomfort of that situation begins to melt away, someone tries to pick up a carryout order that someone else already picked up. The first dumbass listened to me repeat the order to him, said yes thats mine, paid for it and left with food he didn’t even fucking order. This situation fully supports my theory that some people are so stupid that you could say “Are you picking up the shit sandwich for Mr. Dick Balls? Okay, that will be $13 please.” And they will take it. So now I get to tell my already irritated boss to remake the food the idiot took. Momentarily considered quitting on the spot but decided instead to just eat French fries and take comfort in the fact I don’t have to work the following day so I can drink Tito’s Gluten Free Vodka when I get home.
This is just one week of stories, folks, us waitress get new material every day we tie our apron on. Stay tuned for periodic updates on this ever developing story. Feel free to share your waitress horror stories.