~Adventures with the Botox Zombies~

Anyone who has ever worked in the service industry knows it can drive you to drinking. Most who do this job are already alcoholics, or are severely stressed. Many polls have Food Service listed as the number one job for stress, and the number two job for depression. It's like a double whammy. A nice slap in the face then a kick in the gut, all because you need to pay your bills. Not fair really. Living in a city where tourism is the key to survival, and the most reliable job around is waiting on tables, not to mention, most consistent income, it's a pretty crappy choice that you are forced to make. Make a living, but take a chance of being a bitch in the process.

People are just plain rude. There is no way around it. For some reason, they go out in public, and they loose their minds. I guess they are out, and they figure this is their 30 minutes of power. For this brief moment, they have authority. They just forget that you are a human being, just trying to do a job, and make a living. Most don't even make eye contact anymore. The adios wave has become a standard, or the "come hither". Yeah, that one gets a wave back from me. They sit there, all confused as to why I have waved at them, with this concerned look, like, "doesn't she understand that I NEED her now? Why is she waving back? I clearly waved her over here to force her to run to my table to take care of my every need immediately!"

We have the snappers. Argh. These just really piss me off. I am NOT a cocker spaniel, yet they seem to think a snap in the air will make me run in a brisk haste, with great anticipation for the next command. "Oh, yes master, whatever can I fetch for you now?" What the hell? Don't snap your stubby fingers because you need your fourth diet coke, then go into a rant about how you are sooo thirsty. Maybe it is from all the damn diet coke, which is 45% sodium that you are sucking down. Try drinking some water asshole. While your at it, try saying please and thank you, or maybe you didn't notice how I clearly and quite loudly announced "YOUR WELCOME" every time I sat one of your multiple diet coke's in front of you, as to bring to your attention your complete lack of manners.

Here's a quick list:

1. Yes, it is going to be a problem if you all have separate checks. Most computer systems in restaurants are NOT server friendly. Most of the time, we need to ring in every separate check, SEPARATELY, which means for 8 people, 8 separate checks. Oh, kitchens just LOVE this. Also, why in the hell do you do this if there are just two of you and you are paying in cash? You cheap bastards, just figure it out.

2. Don't start a complaint with "I know this isn't your fault but...." and then rant to me about your food. All this means is that your gonna bitch to me anyway, then stiff me on the tip. I didn't cook your food. If you want it corrected, then I will be happy to get it fixed for you. Don't stiff me because a cook messed up. I rely on my tips...plus I have to split them with a busser, a runner and a bartender. I don't even get to keep them all. You stiff me, I get taxed, and have to pay out of my own pocket...all because you felt like making me pay for a mistake I didn't make. Thanks....

3. If you can't afford to tip, don't fucking go out to eat. Seriously....just stay home. Oprah can kiss my ass. NO, it is not cool to tip 10%. Break that down....Honestly. Servers work harder than anyone realizes. I spend 8 hours a day running from the moment I get there, till the moment I leave, no break. No drink, no bathroom...nothing. This is no joke. I get your drinks, I take your order, I bring your food, I get your refills, I buss the table...everything. Bussers don't even buss tables anymore. I work my ass off. If you have a $22 bill, and you leave me $2, after tipping out, I get maybe .50 of that tip. Are you kidding me? Does that seem acceptable to you? I tip better than that at Starbucks....

4. For the love of God, and all things in this world, CHEW WITH YOUR MOUTH CLOSED!! Just have some manners. I have seen people with diamonds the size of walnuts on their hands, and they have food falling out of their mouths while they are chewing, talking, just ugh!!! Money can't buy you class.

5. Don't assume that because I am waiting on tables that you are better than me. A woman came in and had more botox in her lips than I have fat in my ass. She had so much bad surgery on her face that she looked like Frankenstien. She sat her pompus butt down, and refused to take her sunglasses off, because apparently, she "thought" she was famous. I walked over to the table, said good morning, and she promptly, rudely said to me, "Where is Ann Taylor at...oh, never mind....YOU wouldn't know."    Um, WHAT? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Because I work in a restaurant, and you don't work at all, I don't know where Ann Taylor is? Who the hell do you think you are? BITCH.

6. No, we are not going to spit in your food. Just don't be rude. If you are rude, I will make sure you wait....and wait....and wait. That's all. I'm not a savage.

7. It is not our responsibility to feed your bratty kid. That's your job. If you didn't feed them, don't tell us that we HAVE to rush your order, or hurry. NO, we don't. You should be a better parent. Your food will come out when it is ready. You are not any more important than any of the other guests. It is also not our fault if you are late for a meeting, or your flight, or if you are in a hurry. You should have better time management practices. Learn to set an alarm. Get up early. Stop staying out so late. Don't come into a restaurant and try to tell a server that the must hurry your order. Yeah...not going to happen.

A man, somewhere in his late 50's came in to eat. He was with two of his friends. They sat down. They were very pleasant. Chatting away, they were laughing, looking over the menu. I came to the table, said hello. After taking their orders, I came back to the table with some condiments that they would be needing. I sat them down on the table, some of which were our butter pats. They used to be stamped with the hotel logo on them at this time. The man picked one of them up, and began looking at the logo, and seemed perplexed. I was filling the coffee cups, and after I was done, he stopped me, and this is the true story of how our conversation went.

Man, "Um, 'mam. What does A-R-I-A spell?" (Please remember, this gentleman had a very strong southern accent. Not trying to make fun, just need to imagine this as reading, for effect of story)

Me, (In disbelief) It spells Aria sir.

Man, (confused look on his face. Still staring at butter pat) What is Aria?

Me, (deep breath, thinking, are you kidding me?) It's the hotel your in sir.

Man, ...............I went to school in Oklahoma.

And, scene.

I can't make this up. This is the kind of stuff that happens to me everyday. Like the botox zombies, that insist on their egg white omlets, very dry, no oil, no butter....let me repeat. Very dry, no oil, no butter. But in the very same breath with then say, "but make sure you bring me extra butter for my wheat toast".


"I will have the two eggs, any style, with bacon."
"How do you want your eggs sir?"
"I want them cooked."
"Yes, sir, but how do you want them? Scrambled, over easy...."
"why can't I just get some eggs!!
ARGH!! Or, you say, "that comes with toast. Do you prefer white, wheat rye or sourdough?" and they answer, "I will have a banana muffin". Um, NO. That wasn't one of the choices now was it.

This may seem petty, but go through this, all day, everyday. It will make you insane. People are stupid. They don't listen. They don't pay attention. They don't read the menu. "I want quiche". We don't have quiche. But I want quiche. READ the menu.

....sometimes, I come home, and I am dizzy. I am mentally drained. I really just want no contact with any human at all. This is why we love our puppies so much. They don't want to go out to eat. Thank goodness...