Skinny Bitches

Here's a tip: If you're on a diet, DON'T eat at Bloggiano's.

I had a table of 8 women, counting their Weight Watcher's points. "Skinny Sangrias" all around!

Now, that would be okay with me because they're $8.25 a piece, (lesser calories thanks to Splenda in the syrup)  but it all started to go downhill after that...

Let's count the Voids I had to make my manager deal with:

1) One Skinny Sangria sent back because she didn't like it.

2) I brought stuffed mushrooms as an entrée for one of the women who had to be in and out quickly. She sent them back because we "must have changed the recipe." I explained that all we only added the spinach that used to be sprinkled on top into the breadcrumb mixture itself, tinting the stuffing a bit green. She told me I was wrong. You're right, lady. I'm lying...because I care that much.

3) Once another girl realized someone sent back the sangria, she sent hers back also...after having drank half of it.

4) A salad sent back because the chicken "tasted funny."

5) And finally, the only void that was actually my fault: I had to take off a Stella draft because I didn't know we were 86'd.

I just don't understand why you'd plan your birthday dinner at a Family Style Italian restaurant if you're watching your figure. There are plenty of restaurants with special diet menu items and calories listed everywhere. Why torture yourself?!? I suggested the flatbreads to two ladies because they actually have the least amount of calories compared to our other dishes, but instead they got shrimp scampi....no butter....easy, easy oil, no salt.  Yummy. 

I'd rather have a lean cuisine.

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.

Rose wants dough.

Well, it's a new year...

But for Rose, it's business as usual. She still...

1) refuses to pay for her soup (which they keep mostly for her because it's not on the menu anymore)
2) refuses to pay for coffee
3) leaves $1 or $2 in tip, depending on whether or not she likes her server

The other day she told me a story about how she asked our GM for a donation to the Jewish Community Center she's involved with...
"She looked at me and said, 'Again?' That's not very nice. You know The Pizza Factory donated $100. But, anyway, I know she's got a lot on her plate."

Oh, Rose.

When I asked our GM about it, she told me she already donated to Rose and is even hosting an event for her at the restaurant! No wonder, "Again?" was her response.

I'm afraid it's too late for dear, old Rose. She's a living stereotype. 
But as long as I continue to chat with her about Israel, she's on Team Lindsay, so we're good!

Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen!

I need to find the balance between getting my food out on time, and getting molested by the kitchen staff.

It appears I have won the hearts of many of our kitchen staff...

The other night I really got myself in trouble when they were ALL working the same shift.

-Oso, my teddy bear food runner
-Another food runner I've befriended who was working at a pasta cook
-Hottie tattooed Chef #1
-Hottie banquet Chef #2

Gulp.

Needless to say, they were not pleased to see me "flirt" and hug any of the other staff members. Hottie Chef #2 got so competitive that he actually asked me on a real date.... which I politely declined because I "don't date people I work with." Last night got a little tricky when my desserts were taking too long and Hottie Chef  #2 saw me waiting nervously.

"You're so busy making sure your food runner gets the food to your table, you forget if you talk to me...I can MAKE the food ready faster, baby!" 

I'm so busted.

Did you buy your tickets?

One of the comments I get the most as a server at Bloggiano's is about our plates. Most of the serving plates are very heavy, seeing as our portions are very large, especially for Family Style. We're also big on table maintenance, so there's a LOT of plate clearing for each table.

At least a few times a day I get hesitant guests asking,

"Are you SURE you can carry that?"
or
"Wow...I can't believe you guys carry all of that!"
or
"You must have to work out a lot to have this job!"

People, if I am holding too many plates....I won't reach for more. I know my own strength, but thanks for checking on me. I may be small, but I'm a lot stronger than I look!

Here is my cheesy stock answer to the guests:
"You have no idea! (fake laugh) I don't even need a gym membership while working here! This is my work out! (fake laugh)"

Homer's Holiday Cards

I hid them.

Well serves him right! He walked up to me and asked, "Did I give you a holiday card yet?" 

No, but if you don't remember if you gave it to me...does it really mean anything?

"Do you want a kitty or the other thing?"

Umm...kitty?

And then he proceeded to sign it and put my name on the envelope...in front of me.

A couple days later, I saw the pack of cards laying out and decided to have a little a LOT of fun. I hid them in on a shelf in the back room. Homer ran around the restaurant for 30 minutes asking everyone if they'd seen his holiday cards. I was feeling very sneaky and laughing to myself, until I realized I ended up punishing the rest of the staff since we had to listen to him talk about it for 30 minutes.

After that thought, I made them reappear without him ever knowing it was me. 

Happy Holidays, Homer!

I don't care if you're Italian. Part Due

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