Why is it that we decide to become waiters? Oh, that’s right, we need money. If it weren’t for the awesome cash, I’m sure most of us waiters would be quitting before the next person can say, “Excuse me miss…” So, here is the rundown as to how the typical day of a waiter goes.

First, you come to work hoping for a nice, relaxing evening even though you know the chances are slim. You learn the specials and memorize what these specials consist of because you know as soon as you tell your customers the name, they’re going to have no clue what that is. So you memorize that the pasta consists of ground beef, carrots, rutabaga, onions, potatoes, red peppers and every other possible vegetable in the book.

After memorizing this complicated combination, you patiently await for the customers to charge in. As soon as it hits 5:30-6, you’re basically screwed. The rush starts and the chaos begins.

You’ve probably got one couple who seems pretty nice. They’re polite and patiently waiting for their entrees to come out while you’re stressing because why aren’t they ready?! You put the order 20 minutes ago and they’re still not ready. But, phew, there they are. You rush to bring them out, apologizing a million times while they graciously accept the food.

More and more customers are coming in. Except now, you have this snooty family consisting of the rich grandparents who expect superb food, the uptight parents who want five-star service, and the bratty teenager who’s too cool to be there. You put on your winning smile (because come on, you want a nice tip) and go serve them. Except now you just realize you forgot to get the extra order of sour cream your other table wants. So, you rush to grab that and on your way back, you see the host seating you another four top. You glare daggers into them as they walk away as though everything is just peachy.

Somehow you manage to get all the orders and when you bring them to the kitchen, oh boy, it is like world war three. The kitchen is now pissed at you for bringing in four orders at once, all very complicated. What? Yeah, I really wanted these people to order a small portion of steamed shrimp (when we only serve deep fried) and a steak that is "not too well done, but if it’s even a little pink they’re sending it back."

So, now the kitchen is mad at you and you have another table. You are going to have a good long conversation with the host later. You put on your fake smile, grit your teeth and just as you are about to approach them, you remember the desserts waiting for your first table. You rush to see that those aren’t even ready yet.

Now, you’re sweating because you’re wearing this super uncomfortable dress shirt. And if you were as lucky as me, you even get to wear a nice tie with it. When exactly is it acceptable for me to choke myself with it? Now or once we're closed?

Somehow you manage to get everyone satisfied (well as best you can), full, and out of here. Ahh, only five minutes until we close and then, bam. Another person has been seated in your section. You feel like your feet are going to fall off, but you somehow manage to serve this final table. You just about finish everything, are cleaned up and ready to go, when you realize you never got that couple their deserts. Oh well. The day is done and tomorrow will be another day that tests your patience yet again.