Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Twist the bottle, not the cork?


This is partly a pep talk to myself, as I prepare to work the joy that is New Year's Eve in a fine dining restaurant. A nine course tasting menu sans designated seating times...I'll try to maintain my sanity with a secret stash of sparkling wine, to be sipped at regular intervals with a straw. That way, if the timing's off, if the food is cold, if I drip too many drops of red wine on the white table cloths, I'll be too buzzed on bubbly to mind too much.

Here's hoping that the tips are generous, the people are gracious and that come midnight, I won't be aiming any champagne bottles at anyone's eye. Wishing a prosperous and joy-filled 2009 for all.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Certainly with a smile

This fall, I was thrilled to discover that I was not the only one who, all smiles and happy nods, used the phrase "Certainly!" when they really meant "You stupid jerk/screw you/you demanding wench." Etc.

I'd been recounting a story of some really bitchy group of women, and when I came to the part where I said, "Ceeeertainly," my colleague piped up, "Ha! I say that too! It means 'fuck you!'" Before this, I hadn't really been aware of how often I said this word, and how I usually meant something else. It's my little way of coping, of maintaining some insanity when a customer astonishes me with ignorance or impoliteness.

Only once did I suspect a customer was on to me. The "lyyyyy" lingered for five seconds and my token accommodating servant smile crossed into utterly insincere, betraying my dismay at this rude, intolerable woman's demands and criticisms of the menu. She stared at me as if I had actually cursed, and I knew I was found out. And I was glad.

I'm certain I'm not the only one who has this kind of secret synonym - maybe behind all the "My pleasure"s, "Right away"s, and "Of course,"s you've got a cornucopia of cursewords designed to relieve some of the pressure of high demands and unreasonable requests that are so common in restaurants, cafes. It's why I try hard to be liberal with saying "please, if you wouldn't mind, is it at all possible, sorry to bother you, thank you." Seems obvious, but surprisingly lacking a lot of the time. You know you're in trouble if someone replies "Certainly" with a suspiciously toothy grin.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

What's in a schedule?

There are seven days in the week. At worst, I'll have to work for five of them. But when it's Sunday night, and I don't know which five days those might be for the coming week, I get kind of annoyed.

It sorta makes a girl feel like she's sitting around the house waiting for a boy to call for a date, but that boy doesn't really respect her enough to give her advance notice of when that might be, or what time she should meet him. In this case, it's a date she's getting paid to go on, but still....Is it only in the restaurant industry that your schedule's not made until the last possible minute? At previous places of employment, the schedule for the next week would come on Friday, and I thought that was bad. It's frustrating to have to put off making other plans because I'm waiting around to know what days I have to show up at work. Not that I have other plans, really. But that's not the point!

If only dating was actually my full time job. But I hear the tips aren't very good in that line of work.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Sullivan Nod? More like Sullivan Fraud.

I have yet to master this so-called Sullivan nod. People look at me strangely and ask if I have a pain in my neck. Or suggest getting my bangs trimmed. Or become suspicious if I'm on drugs or have a random tick.

Yes, the subtle ten to fifteen degree nod that is supposed to subconsciously encourage customers to purchase a more expensive item from a list, I really need to work on.

My "Tap water or would you prefer sparkling mineral water?" I ask with a shifty eyed head swivel.

"Absolut martini, Stoli martini, or Greeey Goooose?" ends with me resting my chin in my chest like a snoozing pigeon and their request to sit at the bar after all.

I read the daily specials, punctuating the pricy duck confit with a crafty head twitch. Everyone orders pasta.

I've had enough of this bobble-head routine.

Sullivan, whoever you are, I think you're full of it.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

I Shall Withold the Pickle

There is a man named Bob Farrell and he makes instructional videos for the service industry. I want to make this man go away. He is old and grinning and moaning, "Give emmm the pickle! Just give em the pickle!" and I despise him. The pickle is some metaphor for giving people what they want, the little extras make all the difference, blah blah.

In addition to loosely handing out pickles for all, Bob Farrell wants to "Make serving people your number one priority." As if this is some kind of holy revelation that will inspire servers, who serve people, to really rethink the true meaning of their jobs. He then proceeds to tell an anecdote about terrifying a bank teller by ripping the chained pen off of the desk when she explains that because people steal pens they have to permanently affix them. Receives hearty chuckle for whipping out a pen dangling from its chain and holder.

I bet you anything Bob Farrell only tips twelve percent on a good day.

www.dailymotion.com/video/x3dnb_give-em-the-pickle_business

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Typso on Menus

Recently I was reminded of my intense dislike for people who print menus that have been insufficiently spell-checked. And it's not even like I looked at this menu once, sneered, and don't have to look at it again. I can't, because it's at my new job.

As the new girl at a place where early December is proving to be quite slow, I use gazing at the menu as a way to justify leaning against the bar. I am memorizing, I am learning the items. Occasionally I'll ask a question about substitutions or allergies. But what I really want to know is how the heck do you not get someone to proofread the final copy before laminating your menus?

Spelling errors look unprofessional, highlight a lack of attention to detail and suggest a level of incompetence. It doesn't matter that probably one person was responsible for the mistake - do you want someone unprofessional and incompetent who overlooks details to bring you food and ring your credit card through?

Every time I practice my "new girl learning the menu" routine, I can't help but glance at the misspelled words and cringe. The offending mistakes? "Vodak" and "Anitpasto"

Saturday, November 8, 2008

I Need A Goddamn Pen

There are never enough pens. I've started guarding my pens ferociously, because I despise that panicky feeling when I have to return someone's credit card slip and there's not a writing utensil to be found. I also think it's really tacky to give an ugly pen, a coloured pen, or a pencil as the object which is probably going to record my tip.

But why are there never enough? The pens we have kicking around are not snazzy enough to steal. I usually get the pen back that I gave. But then where does it go? Some freaky pen void, apparently. I also hate pens without lids. I kept finding pen lids in the garbage, and flipping out about it. Finally the offending lid disposer confronted me, saying she hated pens with lids. Infuriating to discover 17 discarded lids and no pens.

Someone made a trip to the dollar store and loaded up on pens. These hastily exploded on my hands, and stopped writing after two usages. Some wouldn't write at all. Someone posted a pen incentive: free breakfast for the one who scrounged up the most pens. A handful of matching pens appeared, but the clicky mechanisms all broke and the pens were rendered useless.

I need to eliminate this pen stress. Pending a solution...I'll start memorizing all orders, and customers will only leave cash. I'll have to pensively consider this dilemma a little further. Any pen puns are appreciated.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Don't Let Grandma Pay

Maybe Grandma's spoiled you for your entire life. Or maybe she's never been nice and is finally trying to show some generosity by taking you and your family out for a lovely dinner. This should not be allowed to happen, unless the following conditions apply:

  • Grandma can foot the bill, but the gratuity must be supervised. A subtle peek to ensure that the minimum 15% has been applied will do. If you're on close terms, you can remind her that the going rate for tipping has in fact changed since WWII.
  • Make sure you bring cash with you to the dinner. This is essential when you have to slip the server a crisp bill when Grandma has provided nothing over 10%.
Truth be told, you really shouldn't be letting your grandmother pay for anything at all. She's had a long, difficult life and she deserves to be treated a lot more than you do. Conversely, if you do wave away her credit card, make sure she doesn't get away with saying, "Well I'll take care of the tip then, dear." Unacceptable - unless she's a liberal 20% tipping kind of grandmother, of course.

Monday, September 29, 2008

Dear Hostess

Dear Hostess,

When I said I didn't want to seat a deuce at my open table of four, I didn't mean that I wanted two parents, a newborn and a two year old to sit there.

My section has six tables. Is it really necessary to fill four of them within five minutes? And why must you say my name when you give them the menus? Couldn't you at least make up a fake one? I don't need them screaming my name across the dining room.

When I give you my subtle death stare, it means, "I served those two at lunch, don't you dare sit them in my section for dinner." It can also mean, "Don't you dare let those four switch tables. Tell them the window is reserved, tell them it's drafty, say anything at all but DON'T sit them in my section now."

When you answer the phone, be sure to tell that party of eight that an eighteen percent gratuity is automatically added for parties of six or more. I don't want any surprises when they show up, and I certainly don't want to deal with any 12%, separate check, high maintenance crap.

Also, you're showing too much cleavage.

Love,

Your Server

On Tipping

I was on a second date at one of my favourite bars. We called it a night after two drinks, and the bill was only $21. I left some cash while he paid the entirety on his credit card. My stomach heaved as I sneaked a peek. The tip? Two dollars. I feigned a bathroom break and pressed $5 into the hand of our server's colleague. "Make sure she gets this," I whispered, blushing. "I don't think he left enough." This episode was enough to turn me off for good. Here is a compilation of my fervent tipping beliefs.

  • Ten percent is an insult. So is tipping before the tax. A server has to tip out the runners and the house, so a ten percent tip can mean not even seven percent in their pocket.
  • If your bill is $60.12, why not leave $12? What's with $11.88? Seriously.

  • If you can't afford to leave a 15% gratuity, you can't afford the meal you've ordered.

  • The most common and despised tips: $9 on anything between $61 and $69. $10 on anything between $71-79. $12 on $81-89. An extra two dollars can mean a lot. $11 instead of $9, $17 instead of $15. Not a huge difference to you, but adds up over a night and is greatly appreciated.

  • A sincere thank you and goodbye means nothing to me if you can't show your appreciation on your credit card. My heart always sinks to hear "We really enjoyed ourselves. That was great. Thank you so much!" and get a firm handshake. That handshake and genuine thanks isn't going to pay off my student loan or heating bill.

  • The gift certificate - it is essential to tip on the total of your bill, before the deduction of the certificate amount. You got that much of your meal for free anyway, how can your conscience let you skimp on the tip?

  • The fight for the bill - We've all seen those two couples out together, one loud and boisterous gentleman insisting he'll take the check while the other snatches it from his hand, making for an awkward episode as the server backs away hesitantly, hoping it will be resolved. If you are the winning check-payer, you also have the won the responsibility of leaving an appropriate gratuity.
A drunk maid of honour once threatened me with a slurred "I know where to find you..." after her friend refused to let her pay for the bride's drinks. A man grabbed my wrist, insisting, "That bill is ours, young lady." Let's not abuse or neglect the service staff in a mission for generousity or an attempt to show off for our friends.

Understanding Rien Avant

Just water, please. No, nothing to start. I like it well done. Miss, we have a show to catch. Excuse me! More coffee! Can I have something else instead of potato?

If you've ever worked in a restaurant, you'll know what I'm trying to say. You understand the delicate balance of trying to please the customer, avoid agitating the chef and refrain from throwing red wine in someone's face. Working in the service industry allows you to see the truth of a person's soul. You can measure the generosity, compassion, understanding and patience of a person by how they behave in a restaurant and treat the server. It is appalling to see how some people will speak to a server. The server is essentially a stranger, and yet a customer feels entitled to address them in a way they would never consider speaking to any other stranger.

Rien avant is not necessarily a simple lack of an appetizer. Rien avant is often accompanied by: water with lemon and lots of ice, refills of coffee before and during the meal, requests for extra bread, no dessert, and a ten percent tip. This creates the most work for the server with undeniably the least reward. Often, a rien avant type of person will ask your name, constantly make lame jokes with you, sometimes trick you into a false sense of security and rapport. They will mislead you into thinking they like you, appreciate your service, and pretend to leave you with an acceptable gratuity.

However, this is not to say rien avant will always leave you with a sense of deep resentment and confusion. Rien avant can mean no appetizers, but a cocktail to start and then a bottle of wine. These people may like to savour only one course, but the extras add up to remind you that some people do have class, respect and a polite attitude when dining in public.

At any rate, the service industry is definitely challenging, tiring, frustrating and demeaning. It can also be financially worthwhile, hilarious, interesting and rewarding. Rien Avant is about spreading compassion, humour and understanding for the hardworking souls who bring your drinks, serve your food, clear your plates and wipe your tables.