I have to 'bus' my ass tonight!

The bussers are BUS-ted! 
Ok. I'm done with that joke, I swear.

On a typical night, the servers tip our bussers between 2-4% of our server sales.
If they bring bread and water to my tables, I give them 3%.
If they help me box food, 3.5%.
If they do all of the above and help clear plates on my tables, I give them 4%.

The managers aren't really allowed to tell us what to tip-out. Some weird corporate thing, I'm sure. Anyway, I'm not sure how they figured it out, but the managers realized on a night where the busser has 4 servers to take care of...if he knows two of them tip him higher than the other two, he'll neglect the two that tip lower. This means the servers tipping lower are wondering, "where is my busser?" all night!

To make things more "fair," the managers have told the bussers they are no longer permitted to get us water and bread for the tables, no longer allowed to help clear or box food. Their #1 priority is to keep the server stations around the restaurant stocked with full water pitchers, plates, and glasses.

PROS: 

• I never go to grab a water pitcher and find that all 8 in my server station are empty
• We're now told to only tip-out 2% for the busser....that could mean $20 instead of $40!
• Running around because I have more work to do is good for my upcoming trip to Hawaii ;)

CONS:

• When I get triple sat, it takes forever to get water and bread for all my tables. I get a lot of, "is the bread coming?" from the guests
• I'm a girl. I feel my carpal tunnel getting worse with those heavy plates
• I miss the extra help already :(

I mostly feel bad for the bussers. I think they SHOULD have a job like ours where the harder you work, the more money you make...

Gender Bender

I am so embarrassed.

It was a busy Friday night, and Minnesota and I were sharing a section. We got double-sat so we decided who would take which table and headed over for the greet. I get to Table 20; it's a two-top.

I start pouring the oil and vinegar while they have their heads down at the menu.


"Hello, Gentlemen..............and LADY."

Oh shit.

Her head was down! She had a short Bieber-ish haircut and wore a blazer! I didn't even realize...
It's a girl!

They're a couple.
Eff me. 
She was too busy looking at the menu to notice, but the guy laughed. I quickly walked away after finishing the pour.

Minnesota, we need to switch tables.

Gag.

This is bad.
I had an audible reaction to a table's gross table manners.

I'm serving a table of 5 and when their food comes, I notice the parmesan cheese container is missing a serving spoon, so I say to the table,
"Oh! Let me get you a spoon for the parmesan cheese"

I leave immediately, head straight for the spoons, and return within a minute only to find:

THIS GIRL IS USING HER FINGERS AND SPRINKLING THE CHEESE ON HER FOOD!
I'm talking, dipping her hand in the container that sits on the table all day, available to all who sit at that table!

I walked up, must have had a look of disgust and said, "Uhhhck. Um, here's the spoon."

Gag.

And, yes. I did change out the cheese after they left. Gross.

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...

SUPER MOON!

On Saturday, March 19, I managed to get myself scheduled for the worst of all the worst full moons:

THE SUPER MOON!

http://www.suntimes.com/news/nation/4425664-418/story.html

That's right, the largest and brightest full moon in 18 years! 

C'mon, Lindsay! You're supposed to schedule yourself OFF on days like this!

The restaurant was as chaotic as ever, servers running all over for insane demanding guests possessed by the full moon. The server alley was impossible to get through, the water and ice were never stocked, even the usually cheerful coffee lady was "TOO BUSY" to help anyone, and proclaimed the chilled plates were hers only when servers wanted to use them for dessert plates.

Luckily for me, I was just freakishly busy...I didn't have any crazies.
But a few of my friends did...

• Like the party of 16 whose Family Style First Course came out, and they yelled at the server because half the group couldn't eat dairy...yet they chose their items. When the server re-did the order and tried to confirm it with the group, their host yelled at him again and said, "I don't care. Bring me my food. I'm hungry!" 
• Or the guy who yelled at my friend for not garnishing his bloody mary with celery. Get over it, Mister. We use an olive and lime. Drink it, and like it. When she got it more dressed up for him, he still complained and pulled anyone who'd listen over to the table. The other guest lowered their eyes in embarrassment, but none of them seemed to complain about the managers comping their $200 dinner.
• How about when the same party of 16 got drunk and started fighting with EACH OTHER in the middle of the dining room around 10:30?!?

I just put in a request NOT to work on April 18th. 

Crying over split soda

Four months into my serving career at Bloggiano's, I had my first incident where a guest made me cry.
Damn it.
I blame the long weekend. I was burnt out, and made a stupid mistake.

It wasn't a very busy Tuesday morning shift, but I had a few tables. Then I got sat a party of 7 guests.
Right off the bat, things went sour when one of the women at the table reached for bread, and knocked over her diet coke all over the table.

The bussers quickly got everything cleaned up. When I went back to the table to check on things, one woman commented on why I hadn't brought refills. Ugh. Sorry.
It takes me five minutes to ring in their order, thanks to them all ordering soup and salad combos, adding and subtracting a variety of items from each . Ugh.
All goes well, and I'm informed by the hostess while they're eating that there are two birthdays at the table. Double Ugh. I'm so busy now.

I go to get the birthday cookies. We don't have any birthday plates pre-made. I KNOW I need to wow them more, so I make the pantry staff write in chocolate for this table. While I'm waiting for the plates, my busser comes in and says they're asking for the check. UGH. I give it to him, and I wait two more seconds, then follow with the birthday plates. The group smiles, and they wish the two ladies a happy birthday. I think I'm safe, but I'm not. They hand me cash and ask for the remainder of the bill to be rung on the credit card. I quickly get it done and return in a minute. They look, and say I must've miscounted the cash. My heart skips. I look in my bank. FUCK, I did. 

Now I need a manager to void the charge and re-ring in the correct amount. This is a HUGE pain in the ass, and it's happened to me once before. My manager is pissed. I show the woman proof of the void and the new charge, and she flips out. "Am I going to get TWO charges on my bank statement now??" UGHHH
I get the manager because I tell her I don't want to give incorrect information. I immediately start crying as the woman yells at the manager and I like we are five years old. 

You'd think I charged her a huge amount right?? The first charge was $40. The second, $20.
In the end, the manager voided her credit card completely, taking her amount off the bill. And I will surely get written up. I cried in the back for about 5 minutes because once I start, I can't stop.

So happy I'm not working today!

Safety First!

Accidents happen.

At our Bloggiano's location, they seem to happen a LOT. We have one of the highest number of accidents amongst our brand. How embarrassing.

You already heard about the blood bath in my post about the full moon. (Her family was just in to take photos for their lawsuit. Yikes.)

I, myself had a mini accident recently, that was completely my fault, and easily could have been prevented. I dropped one of our bowls on the floor in the kitchen, and instead of grabbing the broom, I reached to pick up a big piece. I immediately looked down and saw blood dripping out of my finger, and it wouldn't stop bleeding!

The funniest part of my accident is the finger condom I had to wear as a result. Yes, I said finger condom. At least that's what it looked like.

You be the judge:

I guess it's better than my guests getting a band-aid in their spaghetti & meatballs!

Laila is on the front of getting our restaurant to be safer. We started a contest that if  we're "accident free" for 30 days, the team will get a pizza party. Yes, we are motivated the same way a group of 5 year olds might be.
On 17 days accident free, one of the ceiling tiles started leaking and FELL onto two of our booths, hitting an old man on its way to the floor.

Back to Day 1...

P.S. The accident happened on the night of the full moon, and I did NOT work. See, I told you it's cursed!!!

My BFF: The Clorox Bleach Pen

I can't seem to make it through even the slowest of shifts without spilling on myself. Why, oh why do we wear white oxford shirts?? And of course, it is a big no-no to roll up your sleeves a bit. 

So, I've entered into a loving relationship with the Clorox Bleach Pen.

It may sound like a simple pleasure, but I am so thankful for this invention. After a shift, I go home and spot treat the balsamic oil that dripped up my sleeve, the marinara sauce that's somehow ended up on my back, and the oil stains that have accumulated on my stomach. 

It's become my favorite tool of the trade!

But, seriously...how did I get wine here?!?

(Shout out to my nephew, who is the adorable face pictured above, covered in ravioli and marinara sauce! )

Full Moon

Remind me to request full moon shifts off from here on out.

Saturday, January 29, 2011 will be remembered as one of my worst shifts yet. And I don't even know how I lost control of it. Oh wait. I never HAD control. I blame the full moon.

Incident #1: Table 31 translating the menu to each other WHILE I'm standing there waiting for them to order. If you're not ready, I can come back! They were pretty low maintenance otherwise until their Family Style Linguini & Clams dropped all over the kitchen floor (not by me) causing them to wait way too long for their food. I was lucky they didn't complain, but I wasn't getting more than 10-15% even if the service had been perfect.

Incident #2: Table 1 (Old Lady) drops her purse under her booth and asks for a flashlight to find its contents. Ugh. We don't have flashlights, so I run around for 5 minutes asking everyone, and end up with a mini on some server's key chain. She's shocked at how long it took me, and then asks me if she can get Veal Parmesan as her "Tomorrow" pasta for our buy one, get one free deal. NO. It's a free pasta, lady! You take what I give you....and you like it!


Incident #3: Happening simultaneously to Incident #2, I run to the back room looking for a flashlight and stumble into what looks like a murder scene. A woman has tripped on the messed up floor panel and cut her leg open. And is bleeding all over the floor. While the back room is full of guests trying to eat. And our manager is piling cloths napkins over the pool of blood. Kudos to him for not puking or passing out. Good luck to Brinker on that lawsuit.

Incident #4: I get an order for salmon, parmesan-crusted like our tilapia. I put "See Server" into the computer, and go write it on the ticket because it's crazy back there. Eight minutes later it's still not out, so I check with Hottie Chef #2, who he hasn't even made it because I wrote it in without talking to him first. UGH. Cut to the end of the meal when the woman who ordered it asked to see my manager to, "say something nice about me" and ended up with a free meal and dessert.

Incident #5: Table 41, party of 6, orders three of our buy one, get one pastas to share. Awesome. But to make it even better, one of the couples will be sharing Gluten-free pasta. Ok, I can do that. When it comes out, they complain about the portion size being smaller than usual. I explain that we changed our portion sizes some time ago, and maybe they haven't been since. I also note that I'd be happy to put in a second order, that could be ready in just a couple minutes. The man insists I'm "wrong," because obviously I have every reason to lie (nope) and I immediately get a manager involved. Even after getting them a second dish, and two take home Gluten-free pastas for free specially made for them, you can guess the kind of tip I received.

Thank goodness for Table 3, a mid-thirties couple who calmly sipped on glasses of wine and shared an entrée. When I asked if they'd like one more glass and dessert, they skipped the dessert but opted for another glass because they were heading to meet with old college friends they hadn't seen since. Because they were the easiest/most pleasant table I had all night, I rang in some free lemon cookies and gave it to them with the wine. I told them the cookies were on me, because I knew they were in for an interesting night. She left me $25 on $60.

If only that $25 had helped me sleep better that night. 

The Fake Out

You know, I'm willing to admit when my serving is having an 'off day.' And frankly, the last few shifts have been horrible. When it's slow, I just can't get into the groove of things and mistakes happen.

To add insult to injury, I had a guest pull something that left my jaw WIDE OPEN.

There I was, scrambling through a somewhat busy restaurant when I saw two middle-aged women walking down the aisle to exit the restaurant. Even though I had to go dump dishes in the kitchen, ring in a dessert, box food, and print out a check was in a bit of a hurry, I kindly stopped to let them pass first. "Give the guests the right of way," right???

Well just as the second woman passes, I start to go, and BOOM...
She jumps backward and fakes me out!!!

WTF?!?

She laughed and said, "You were waiting so patiently I just had to fake you out."

Very funny....bitch.

I broke a chair.

Guess I shouldn't have eaten so much during the holidays.

I went to fold my napkins at the beginning of a shift, pulled out my chair and went to sit....BOOM.
It broke.

Everyone laughed. My manager joked about my weight. I had flashbacks of breaking my dorm bed in college freshman year. Not the fun way. 

At least it wasn't a guest.

At Bloggiano's: Quality comes first.

Kid, you poke me one more time...

(In NC, a restaurant put this sign up ordering parents to remove their screaming children from the dining room)

Don't get me wrong. I love kids.
And actually, I think I'm part of a small percentage of servers who enjoy a cute little child sitting at one of my tables.
Emphasis on the ONE table.

Today it seemed like every direction I looked in my section, there was a set of parents and their two small kids.
What does this mean for me??

Double the amount of work: When there are kids at the table, I always make sure the kids' food comes out first. Hungry kids mean grumpy parents. This is extra work because I have to go back later and add the parents' food separately. Also, I despise the kids cups. I guess they're not so bad, but we keep them on the top shelf, which isn't exactly easy reaching for those of us who are height-challenged.


Annoying Parents: Honestly, it's sometimes hard to decide who's more high maintenance....the kids, or their parents who want you to basically babysit their children for them while they tune out their screaming and down a martini.

Low Per Person Average: Kids meals at Bloggiano's are about $5 and include a free drink and dessert. Awesome.

Super Speed: If you're a parent, you know you have a limited time frame before your kid starts acting out. So I have to be speedy quick and drop the check before the meal is even over.

Specifically today, I had Sophia's 5th birthday, which included 5 of her cousins around the same age and two sets of parents. These kids were crazyyyy! They were under the table, laying across the aisles, throwing food, making a huge mess, and distracting nearby tables. The parents couldn't have cared less. A number of managers came to me asking for better table maintenance. I TRIED to clear things, but it just never got better!  I almost lost it when I was trying to take a neighboring table's order while feeling a sharp poke in the back every two seconds from Sophia.

Little Girl I don't care if it's your birthday, sit down in your chair, eat your pasta and STOP poking me!!!

Ahhh....I feel better now.

Damn Yams

While most of America spent Thanksgiving in a tryptophan coma with family and friends, the employees at Bloggiano's were working. Every year, they provide a special Thanksgiving Family Style Menu for a whopping $35 per person for the people who don't want to cook.

I was scheduled to work the AM shift, and to be honest, I was okay with working because I need the money. On Wednesday morning, my general manager called to ask if I'd be able to work the PM shift instead. Ummmm yes please! As I've mentioned before, the new servers are only working lunch shifts right now, so it meant a lot that she trusted me to work the dinner shift (even though it was the same menu all day). It also meant potentially a lot more money, so I said sorry to the fam and accepted.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous on Thursday before I walked into my 2:30 call time. I knew how I did on this day could mean impressing the managers enough to move up to dinners, but I was also nervous that I wouldn't know any of the PM servers. Right when I walked into the room where we meet, everyone asked, "Are you Lindsay???" But I felt comfortable and was ready to kick some butt....that is, AFTER we ate our own mini turkey day dinner in the middle of the empty mall. At least I got to work off those calories after I ate!
Thanks Bloggiano's for at least providing your employees with some yummy food! 


My "section buddy" and I decided it would be best to pool our tips today in order to provide great service to everyone at our tables. It worked out pretty well, and in general, I had great guests who were happy to celebrate the holiday.

I don't know why it's always the last table that gives the most trouble, but I nearly lost it this time. A party of 6, they were totally indecisive about EVERYTHING. People, it's not that hard. It's basically a multiple choice test...but with food. You can't fail. After an hour of delaying their entrees, the turkey and sides all come out and look great. I go to do my check-back, and they complain about the sweet potatoes. Oh boy. You see, this year Bloggiano's decided to use pale yellow sweet potatoes to make their side, so the color was different than the typical orange sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top. Mind you, they still taste sweet...but THIS table started going nuts over the color. They kept asking me for regular sweet potatoes, not understanding we didn't have those....

"These aren't sweet potatoes. We wanted sweet potatoes."

Well Ma'am, these are yellow sweet potatoes but I assure you they are still 'sweet potatoes.'

"Yes, but we want the sweet potatoes. These aren't sweet potatoes."

Ok, well this is our only option for sweet potatoes. Would you prefer our garlic mashed potatoes instead?

"No we want sweet potatoes."

Yes, and I would love to mash them right in your face!!
Let me see what the chef can do for you...

UGH. Then, I snapped a little bit when it came to the cranberry sauce. Every time I went out there, they asked for more cranberry. And there was always some on the table. Food runners laughed as I'd come in for yet another container. The last time I brought out a bigger bowl, and as soon as I set it down, I was asked for more. I just had to say it....
"Welllllll....HERE is a brand new bowl. And if you need more after that, just let me know." 


I have tons to be thankful for. Aside from my wonderful family and friends, I am extremely thankful for my job in these hard times....even when I want to "accidentally" drop a bowl of cranberry sauce on a guest's lap. :)

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!! 

Oh, and here's some info on sweet potatoes and the color varieties...Educate yourself! 

Controlled Chaos

I think my brain turned to pasta last Friday....

I had the WORST day of training. They stuck me with this guy, Homer (I didn't even have to change that name) who I was originally excited about following. I had heard he's the guy who makes everyone laugh and is great with guests, often singing 'Happy Birthday' in a James Brown style. However, once I started following him, I felt my brain hurt.

I'm sure as a server, he has a rhythm that works for him. But, with three trainees, he's a mess! There were a number of times we had to correct him on proper steps of service, and I really feel like he does things the hard and inefficient way. For example, I needed to put in an order for a two-top (a table for two, for all the restaurant newbs) but he made me stand there and wait while another trainee put her order for 5 in, which took FOREVER because they had fancy drinks and appetizers as well as entrees. After she was done, he criticized me for waiting so long to put in the order that had no apps or salads. What?!?


I was already feeling more stressed than ever when someone handed me the pitcher of decaf coffee to refill my table's cup. See, I like to think of the best servers as having "Controlled Chaos." We're thinking of a million different tasks on the inside... table 2 needs a coffee refill, pay out table 5, table 10 wants more butter, when will this shift be over?? .... but on the outside, we're all smiles, floating around the restaurant like everything's a piece of cake. Homer functions by running around like a chicken with its head caught off, and it totally messed with my chi. I started messing stupid things up, just like him!

So anyway, someone hands me the coffee pitcher, I bring the cup to me in effort not to chance spilling on a guest, and as I pour....coffee starts coming from nowhere! I must have had a look of horror! In slow motion, I saw the white tablecloths become soaked with coffee and I kept pouring because I couldn't even figure out where it was coming from! The damn thing was broken on the bottom!

Thankfully I saved myself by joking with the two old men at my table about the staff trying to sabotage me on my first week of training and they laughed.....but I was serious!


I hate those coffee pitchers now.