|
|
|
Writings: Other Stuff: |
2003-11-19 - 10:22 p.m.Grrrrrr. . .This week someone must have tattooed a big fucking "WASTE MY TIME, PLEASE!" sign on my forehead. Monday: Because of incredibly slow business, the restaurant closes at 2:15 (we close at 3:30 on Mondays, usually). I have one table left at that time. They don't even bother asking for the check until 2:45 (and before you ask, they sat down at one. Yes, they had been eating their fucking salads for an hour and forty-five minutes and still weren't done). Now, I have no problem with tables sitting and talking, but when it's obvious the restaurant is CLOSED and HAS BEEN CLOSED for some time, I think it's just common decency to take the conversation somewhere else. By 3:30, the manager tells me I can do it tomorrow since I'm coming in before all the other waiters. I'm told the people finally left around a quarter to four. Tuesday: Basically the same thing with a twist. I've been there since 10am with a half-hour break. The restaurant closed at 7:30 because it was D-E-D (so dead we couldn't even muster an A). It was my job to assign cleaning duties, because of my section, and thus I can't really leave until all the cleaning duties are over or at least most of them and I have the server's word that the last bit will get done when their table leaves. Well, waiter H has one table just sitting there talking, and this happens to be the last part of waitress K's sweeping duties. All of us are cashed out and cleaned up, and are basically waiting for this table to leave. Now, there is, of course, no reason all three of us should wait there for one table, especially me who really has no other responsibility's than to make sure it all gets done. However, H and K start arguing over who gets to leave. K isn't gonna bus H's table, and H absolutely refuses to do K's sweeping duties. After this literally goes on for two minutes, I just look at both of them and say "Both of you get the fuck out of here. I'll do it all, you stupid, whining children. . ." By 9pm, the Manager again decides that since I'm getting there before everyone else in the morning, I can finish it all the next day. I think these customers left at 9:30. Today: I've been working since 9am with no break, and the Manager comes to me with a deal. There's a "Set-Menu" in the back. . . everything's already ready, I just have to dish it all out and clean up when they leave. People in these things are always in-and-out. Since they're coming in at 6pm, I should be out by 7:30 whether or not the restaurant closes. I think that's actually pretty nice of him, as he understands I've been working really long days recently. However, by the time I get to serving dessert, we learn that this group is in fact holding a small seminar in the private room they've been given, with a guest speaker and everything. No one bothers to settle their drink tab 'till he's done, and I still have to clean after them anyway. It's 9pm by the time I leave. The restaurant closed at 7:45 and all the waiters were gone by 8:15. It's absolutely no one's fault. No one at all. I honestly wish it was, because I could just dream of punching them in the teeth and thus feel just a little bit better. As it is, I am just tired and cranky. I work tomorrow from 10am until I finish setting up all the Christmas Candy in the Sweet Shop. I know for a fact that I'm not doing anything in the evening, so plans are open. Anybody up for anything? I could use some mental relaxation. Oh, and I came up with a really sweet NaNoWriMo idea tonight. . . too bad it's the 19th, eh? |
|
