- Rude tables really are just entertainment and fodder for my blog at this point. As my cousin David says, getting a bad table is like a grounder taking a bad hop in baseball. You get hit in the face, spin it for the media, and move on.
- Different shades of color may hold meaning for people like interior designers and fashion consultants, but not as much for kitchen staff. Let's use pink as an example: Apricot, coral, dusty rose. But there is absolutely no shade of pink that can be defined as "medium to medium well." Honestly, there's really no such thing -- there's medium or there's medium well -- and the cooks hate it when we tell them that someone wants "medium to medium well." That's based on temperature, so if you want your steak at exactly 160° Fahrenheit, say so. And P.S., if you insist on asking for "medium to medium well," what the cook might do is just cook your steak medium and then let it dry out under the heat lamps for five minutes.
|Learn it, love it, and stop trying to deviate.|
- Speaking of steak, I've noticed that the temperature of steak a guest orders is indirectly proportionate to my tip. That is, the more well done the steak, the shittier the tip.
- I learned today that popular music from my high school years isn't lost on the 25-and-under crowd. Or, perhaps, it’s just programmed somehow into our brains by 96.5 FM. One waitress noted out loud in the stifling and busy kitchen, "It’s getting hot in here," and about seven of us, all performing random tasks at the time, responded (flatly, absent-mindedly, without looking up), "… so take off all your clothes..."
- Sometimes, IndyCar commentary makes me giggle. "Conway is now inside Andretti," "he just plowed into the back of that guy" (they really like to say "plow" a lot), "you never suspect that he's going to come right on top of you," "we're going to see some action between these two… or perhaps three…"
|Commentator: "And when you hit those curves, your whole body can feel it!" Me: "huehuehuehue"|
- Why do customers ask for modifications to their orders as if they're mad at the food? "I'll have the chicken Caesar salad, and [eyes bulging, neck vein popping out] NO CROUTONS." Geez, lady, sorry. I didn't know that croutons, like, burned down your house that one time.
- A first (and second) for me: In the last week, there've been two tables who have not only stiffed me, but they didn't leave enough cash in the check presenter to cover their bill. Do I go to Kohl's and offer only $30 for a $32 shirt? No, I don't, and you wouldn't, either. Get your shit together, people.
- On a happier note, a huge thank you to the couple that tipped me $20 on $35 today with the note, "Congrats and good luck!" I doubt you guys read this blog, but that really made my shift.