On your way to work, the sun is shining and you are ready to have a great day. You have a brand new pack of pens and a fresh work shirt that you can’t wait to utilize (it’s the little things that matter). You arrive on time, at 10:00 A.M., and that one manager who always seems to be having a bad day bellows at you for having your shirt half-way untucked. You check-in with the hosts, and immediately get sat with an elderly couple. After you put in their order, they blame you for the “lengthy” 10 minute wait their food took and refuse to pay for it; the manager discounts their bill and they don’t leave a tip for you.
Your next table is a group of foreigners, who are completely impossible to understand. You have to say “what?” after everything they say because their accent is so distinct. Once they finally leave, they reward you with three nickels and a penny. You are then sat a few more elderly folks and a couple of kids who are way too hungover to function. They all tip you around 3-10%, even though you gave them perfect service and always had a smile on your face. You made a total of $20.00 in the last four hours; considering your $4.68 hourly wage and tip share deduction, that will not be enough to cover your rent and car payment, so you’ll have to pick up more shifts this weekend.
It is now 3:30 PM and the second round of servers starts showing up for the night shift. Since you work a double, you’re supposed to get an hour break to eat, but the server who is supposed to cover your section is late, so you get sat two more tables. You don’t get to eat and you also might explode if you don’t get to use the bathroom in the next couple minutes. There was a mess-up in the kitchen, so they put a huge plate of fries in the server area for everyone to eat. You only get one fry before the entire plate is devoured and licked clean by your co-workers.
Your section is now completely full and it is madness. Table one, consisting of three business women, are too cold and want you to turn off the air, even though that is completely out of your control. They are also demanding their third refills of both coffee and water for each of them. Meanwhile at table two, the two year old child is throwing food everywhere except into his mouth, the five-year-old is screaming because she doesn’t like hot dogs with “black lines” on it and wants a new one, and they also need a side of ranch, BBQ sauce, and a new fork because it disappeared. Oh and by the way, you just got double sat with another table, a young couple who continues to fight over
everything, even what kind of dressing to get with their salads. They
are there for hours, bickering about every single thing that has every
gone wrong in their relationship.
Slowly it rolls around to 9:30 P.M, which means you can begin your cut work, consisting of cleaning the tables, lamps, menus, ketchup bottles, refilling sugars and salt and pepper, resetting the dishes and silverware on the table, sweeping the floor, rolling 65 sets of silverware, and other various cleaning responsibilities in the back. Once you finish, It is 11:00 PM., closing time, even though you were scheduled to leave by 8:30. You plop into your car, your feet feel like they are about to fall off, God only knows what is splattered all over your shirt, and you're holding a fistful of one dollar bills. And the best part is, you get to do it all again tomorrow.
