Helllloooooo!!!
It's been way too long since I've updated this puppy. I blame the merciless, relentless, heart-breaking, ball-breaking, tear-inducing, drowning-in-my-own-sweat patio season endured by all service industry folk in this smoggy, humid crucible otherwise known as downtown Toronto. It was a bitch.
Long hours were made longer by hangovers, lack of food, "creative" input from the corporate overlords and, of course, the single greatest problem with the restaurant business - the fucking GUESTS!!!
Ok, I've been in this business for around a decade and I've served every type of guest that crawls under the cruel sun. I've served Johns taking their Russian-emigre "lady friends" out for dinner before getting down to business (she usually spends the whole time texting delicately with her acrylic nails while he fidgets and nervously downs three beers before the entrees arrive). I've served sad old British couples who want to talk my ear off about visiting the _____ Museum but whenever I'm away from the table they don't speak to each other, rather, they stare silently into space.
Don't get me wrong, there are AMAZING guests out there who have touched my heart. Only weeks after same sex marriage became legal I served a quiet wedding dinner for a gay couple who had been together for decades and were finally able to make it official in the government's eyes. In some strange twist of fate that same night I was also serving a bachelorette party. The bride to be was a vacuous bottle-blond with an "I do hot room yoga" body and a bitchy expression permanently botox-ed to her face.
Any long-term service industry person will admit that we love and hate our guests by turn. They can make our night, pay our bills, make us laugh and remind us why we do this job and do it well, because the gracious members of society appreciate it.
But - oh LORD! - how they test us with their ridiculous questions and needs (NEEDS! NEEDS! ALWAYS you NEED something from us!!!!). Yes, it is our job to answer your stupid questions without making you feel stupid yourself. But we do reserve the right to laugh behind your back when you are gone.
Late in the summer I did an informal survey of my work colleagues and compiled a list which I call:
THE DUMBEST QUESTION YOU CAN EVER ASK A SERVER
These are some classic dumb-ass questions, yes, they're often used as indelicate entry points into more involved conversations but these questions remain, undoubtedly, ridiculous.
"Do you guys serve food?"
My imaginary answer: "No, that food you see the table next to you eating, that's prop food. In fact this whole 'restaurant' is an elaborate movie set. Wait...you're not an extra?"
"What's in a gin and tonic?"
My imaginary answer: "Tequila and orange juice."
"Do you have bathrooms?"
My imaginary answer: "No, we just pop-a-squat next to the patio and let 'er rip. But if you have a loose movement would you mind kicking some dirt over it so the flies don't get at it?"
"What is your coldest beer?"
My imaginary answer: "Well, since you asked, and clearly being an individual with refined tastes, we'll crack open the cryo-freezer in the back and you can have one of our speciality, 'absolute zero' Heinekens."
"Is that a real burger? Like a MEAT burger?"
My imaginary answer: "No, this restaurant is actually part of the militant wing of Greenpeace. Our mission is to foist non-meat burgers to an unsuspecting public as the newest vigilante tactic in our ongoing battle for world dominati- I mean, veganism!"
In a similar vein...
"That New York steak on the menu, is that a BEEF steak?"
My imaginary answer: "No, it's ostrich. Duh!"
And then there are the delightful conversations that we service slaves get to have with the more obtuse members of society. Conversations where stupidity persists beyond the initial idiotic question and we are forced to respond with barely restrained condescension.
The following is a conversation I personally witness between a bartender at my work and an elderly Chinese woman. It was a ridiculously busy night and patience was scarce. Bear in mind we are a SIT DOWN, serve-you-at-the-table restaurant, not a corner store.
Woman: "I want an iced coffee in a can or bottle."
Bartender: "We don't sell those. We're a restaurant."
Woman: "I want coffee to go."
Bartender: "We don't have to go cups."
Woman: *points at another guest's drink* "What's that?"
Bartender: "Pineapple juice."
Woman: "What other juices do you have?"
Bartender: "I can do either apple or pineapple juice to go." (These juices come in individual bottles.)
Woman: "I'll have two apple juices and two coffees to go."
Bartender: "We don't have to go cups."
Woman: "Are you a manager?"
Bartender: "No."
Woman: "I want to talk to a manager!"
Most industry staff accept the give and take, love and hate nature of the business and in the long run allow themselves to be comforted by vast amounts of booze and the fact that most of our income is tax free (that's right!) but every once in a while a guest takes it too far and actually insults one of us, by proxy, all of us, with their ignorance.
My restaurant has two menus; a black jacketed food menu and a brown jacketed drink list. Several months ago a coworker was serving a party of 10 in our dining room. They had arrived in good spirits, all wearing sailor hats for some mysterious reason, and proceeded to eat and drink their fill. Unfortunately some drank significantly more than their fill. What had started off as an amicable server-guest relationship turned sour when my coworker attempted to cut off some of the drunker members of the party.
That's when shit got real.
Apparently when the party had sat down the server had told them that food was listed in the black menu and drinks were listed in the brown menu. No harm, no foul, simply providing information. But when she later decided to stop serving certain people alcohol (which is her legal obligation, not just her legal right) a WHITE female in the party told her she "didn't appreciate the racist service."
Yes, RACIST service.
"She called it the 'black' menu and the 'brown' menu. Some of the people in this party were really offended. Some of the people in this party are LAWYERS!" Blah, blah, blah.
I think all servers and bartenders have at one time or another been called incompetent, and maybe even deserved it, but this woman's vicious, drunken tirade showed true ugliness.
Of course this is a rare exception. Generally the abuse and idiocy levelled at service industry workers slides right off, some of us even enjoy it. And generally we're pretty happy people; we eat well, we drink well, we live it up, we have sexy (slutty) coworkers and we're usually sleeping in our warm beds while 9-to-5ers are commuting to their grey-walled cubicle hell holes. So sure, we'll help you kill some brain cells with liquor after work and take your abuse. But just know that when you see your server laughing with the bartender as she picks up your drinks, there's a decent chance she's laughing at the fact that you just ordered a drambuie "neat."
