In November, I celebrated the fifth anniversary of a relationship that has consumed my young adult life. It is one that has benefitted me in ways no other relationship has, and caused me stress in ways no other relationship will: serving.
Several days a week I dig through my laundry for a clean shirt (one not covered in cat or dog hair, which is an incredibly tall order in my house), tie on a grease-stained apron and pray that the night will go smoothly or that maybe, magically, that management will decide to close the restaurant early and throw a Mexican food (because I’m not a huge pizza fan) party for the staff instead. Of course, there is that whole “bills” thing that keeps my best smile on most nights, but sometimes it just isn’t that way.
Five years of carrying trays above my head has left me learning so many things from my time spent in non-slip shoes. Some that have made me better, and others that have just left me bitter.
1. Exceptional customer service skills.
“Hi, everyone, how are you doing today?”
“Two diet cokes.”
There are times that I feel like I am going explode from the inexplicable rudeness that comes with customer service work, and I have used my time being face to face with thousands of people to channel that into being exceptionally polite. I have been yelled at, cussed at, insulted and have learned to put on my best face at the table, say “you’re welcome” even if they didn’t say “thank you,” and cry in the back later. Serving builds thick skin.
2. Multitasking and incredible ability to carry things without a tray.
Not sure where I will apply these skills yet, but I can carry so many things without a tray. It’s become like this personal challenge to see how much I can stack on my left arm and how far I can splay my fingers to carry glassware without breaking any of it. Also, my ability to prioritize small things seems to have improved greatly since catering to tables.
3. Patience.
“Where are the drinks?”
“On this page, here.”
*Flips away from page* “Where?”
“On that last page you were on.”
*Flips to back of menu* “Where?”
Patience is not my strong point, guys. I used to run through my house nonstop. Why? I am not sure, but I know I have never been one to move slowly or take my time with anything. I try not to ask too many questions and attempt to sponge up whatever knowledge I can the first time. I prefer running to walking, dining to-go to dining-in, and sometimes I speak so quickly that I have to repeat myself to people multiple times. This has left me to learn to have an exceptional amount of patience with those that need it, and it really is a calming skill to inherit.
4. How to next-level eye roll.
Sometimes, though, I have to bite my tongue really hard and roll my eyes into my head like a pro because people want to let their kid choose their meal and then spend five minutes deciding between chicken and corn dogs. It’s all I can do not to scream because I am getting triple sat and table 82 has been waiting for their drinks. So parents, if your child can’t choose, please choose for them as they will inevitably only eat their side anyway.
5. Not to judge people.
I am a firm believer that you should never judge a table by what you think they will tip you. I have gotten awesome tips from people I never would have expected would leave me anything. Never assume someone doesn’t get how hard you work. At the end of the day, I am paid to be nice and attentive, and I know how much it sucks to have a nasty server ruin my meal, but with that also comes the reality that I live off of my tips and that there are people who really don’t care about that.
6. But also to judge people (Aka: the reality of humanity).
I won’t judge you by your age or skin color, but I will judge you on how you treat your servers and if you tip me when I know I did a great job on your table. It should be a customary rule that the guest has to tell me up front if they tip or not and I then I can decide if I will do what the company pays me to do or if I will go above and beyond to earn those few extra dollars. Alas, it is still going to be a “fingers crossed they leave me money” game. Being nice to people shouldn’t be so hard, but sometimes it feels like me wearing a uniform gives them a free pass at being as awful as possible because they know I can’t say anything back.
7. Your co-workers are like free therapy.
My fellow apron-wearers and managers have seen me cry more than I would care to admit. They are supportive and happily listen when I gripe about a mean table, often offering their own crazy story about how someone threw ranch at them in return. It’s not often that I have heard of a place where everyone just gets along so well and I am so blessed to spend most of my time with the people I do. End mushy cliché.
8. That kindness is the best option.
You can never really know what someone is dealing with. Strangers love to tell me their stories, be it that they are in the midst of a divorce or that their daughter is in the hospital with cancer, and have thanked me for being the small bit of good in their day. That resonates with me in a way I’ll never really grasp, but I know that sometimes my guests have been that small little light for me too, even if they weren’t aware of it. If I am having a bad night, I often have to remind myself that there are people who are going through so much more, and maybe I can be the reason that they smile that evening.
