Welcome to Fuck My Table! If you are a new visitor, I suggest finding the archive and reading from the very beginning. I hope you enjoy my stories, bitching, and musings. If you don’t, feel free to get the fuck out and read something else.
As you read through the comments, keep this in mind: while I initially responded to all comments, I found that it cluttered up my comment section. I took a leaf out of a fellow blogger’s book and now respond to comments within the original comment. I bold my text to distinguish my response from the original comment. I realize that it forces you to check back manually in order to see my response, but it keeps things a little more simple for me. Suck it up, I suppose.
My personal blog can still be found at fmtlife.wordpress.com. I really need to figure out what I’m going to permanently call it. We’ll see if that ever happens. In any case, all new posts will appear on my personal blog. If you are a new reader, you should know that I finally escaped the prison of serving. I now work at a much better job where I’m paid well, get great benefits, and don’t have to put up with rude assholes all day. You can read about my new job, daily life, and personal opinions on my personal blog. There are 2 1/2 years’ worth of posts about serving, though, so take a look around. I still check the comments if you care to share your thoughts.
I have read The Oatmeal for quite a while now. Well over a year, maybe two. I have always enjoyed Inman’s crazy style and humor, but now… But now he has just landed himself firmly in the cockles of my heart. Warming them with farts, no doubt.
This, ladies and gents… This is a masterpiece.
I was just contacted by the guy who runs InsideDish.com and I thought the idea was cool so I’m giving it a dedicated post.
From the creator:
I created [InsideDish.com
] so that waiters and bartenders could avoid training a new restaurant only to find out a week down the line that they’d be working all lunches, or it’s not flexible for actors, or there is no money to be made.
On my site, servers, such as yourself, will be able to see the reviews on a particular restaurant’s working conditions even before they apply. It’s all the stuff that you eventually find out while training, only much earlier!
Who supplies the info? Other servers and bartenders.
So, you see, I’m really relying on industry people to spread the word in order for this to work.
So, fellow servers, go visit the site and submit information on your current and previous places of employment. Everyone’s participation will be the key to the success of this idea. I think this is a wonderful idea, as it’s difficult to gauge what it’s really like to work at a particular restaurant until you actually work there. Some of us are fortunate enough to know someone on the inside, but even then how accurate will the information be?
I’ve been shafted by “friends” who told me to come work at their restaurant because it’s awesome, only to discover that it’s really shitty. They just wanted someone to share in the misery, and having a friend there made them feel less shitty…but shafted me in the process. So, in the interest of helping strangers, be honest in your submissions. You can help someone make the right choice for their needs; just be honest in your description of your workplace and let them decide what works for them.
This site looks well planned and there are already many entries. This is worth taking a look at, everyone. It’s not some HTML nightmare that a beginner programmed. In fact, it’s quite polished and looks easy to use. So go visit now and provide what information you can. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find somewhere better to work in the process.
I’m not fucking kidding. I will cut you.
Oh, how many times did I tell the Posado’s and Chili’s cooks NOT to put shit on someone’s food only to have some other server (who was clueless about the mod) deliver the food covered in the offending ingredient? So often that I started doing this shit, too.
“Allergy. Seriously. Guest will DIE. Do NOT use ____. ALLERGY. I’m not joking. DON’T MESS THIS UP. Serious allergy!”
Then we got in trouble for writing “irrelevant” and/or “excessive” notes to the kitchen and weren’t allowed to do that, and then the mistakes increased a hundred fold. Well, that’s my best guess anyway.
That’s why, when I know the server wrote down my request and someone else brings the food, I know it’s probably some idiot in the kitchen who didn’t read the ticket.
This is how I felt every night…!
(I’ve got four 8 tops of evil children, some bitch at #52 is complaining about too much lettuce in her salad, and you want me to sing Happy Birthday? Oh fuck that shit!)
I have been terrible about updating and I know it. As the responsibilities at my new job ramp up, I find that I have little time during the day to ponder anything for posts. Once I arrive home I want to make dinner, eat, spend time with my husband, play with my dog, and go to bed. I’m not telling you this because I feel guilty about doing these things instead of posting on my blog; I’m telling you this because I don’t feel guilty. I don’t owe you an explanation, I don’t owe you more posts, I don’t owe you anything.
But I do like you. I appreciate your readership. I am thankful to have had comments from many of you over the past 2 1/2 years. And because I like you, I want to keep posting. I do have more material from the last few months of my serving days, but to be honest I feel detached from those situations now. I can post them but I can’t infuse the same feeling I once did. Part of me is sad to leave those days behind but, for the first time in a long time, I can see a future. I can see me performing well at this job and actually reaping rewards. I can see me finishing a Master’s degree. I can see myself doing something that I love. I can see myself in a situation where I can drop $50 tips when I go out to eat, paying it forward little by little to the people who are what I used to be.
Look forward to new posts, but not about serving. I can’t post about serving anymore. Not the way I used to. It was easy to come home fuming after a shift and sit down to tell you all about it. I suspect that if I could at least go out to eat once in a while I would still be able to give you good posts… but we don’t eat out at all anymore. Though I have a new, better-paying job, my student loans have gone into repayment and $1000 of our monthly income walks straight into the waiting hands of Sallie Mae. Once I begin classes for my Master’s degree time will once again be short and money still tight. But I want to keep posting.
Because this blog was first and foremost a blog about the world of serving, I don’t feel that it would be appropriate to continue posting about my new job here. You can find new posts at fmtlife.wordpress.com. This blog…
I know not what will become of it. My ideas, my projects…
Maybe I will pursue them in the future. But right now, I see a bright path ahead and I need to focus on current issues. It has been a great pleasure sharing my experiences and thoughts with you, and I sincerely appreciate my readers. Thank you for keeping me sane in my last years of serving. Without this blog, without you… I just might have whacked an old lady with a fajita skillet, or stabbed a snotty kid with a lobster fork.
T4T is posting early, on Monday night, so I don’t forget about it tomorrow. Or maybe I just forgot to change the schedule date to post for tomorrow. You know, maybe. Ahem.
Here’s a tip: If you’re in a fucking hurry, don’t stop at Red Fucking Lobster.
On my next-to-last day, two ladies sat down in my section. They sat and talked for a good ten minutes, waving me away every time I attempted to take their order. When they were finally ready they barked their choices at me. As I closed my booklet the sourpuss on the left growled, “And we’re in a hurry. She has an appointment to make at 12:15 and we need to leave by noon.”
I remembered that the clock read 11:32 when I checked it right before taking their order. Motherfuckers, you have got to be kidding me. If you’re in a fucking hurry, order as soon as possible and don’t waste your time chatting while your food could be cooking.
“Of course. I’ll put a rush on it.”
“You’d better.” Continue reading
So my holiday is over and I must go back to work. My husband doesn’t go back until the 16th, lucky butt.
Just to give you an idea of the stupid I encounter with my new job, I’ll check my work email. Oh, look! Two students emailed me. One on the first Saturday of break, and the other on the Sunday before Christmas. Seriously?
Student #1 is asking me which classes to take. Again. It’s the third time. Or is it the fourth? I don’t know. He needs a specific core requirement fulfilled, and there are only 7 or 8 courses that will fulfill it. All of them are closed. Because he didn’t come get advising until the week before winter break. They’ve been able to register since, like, late October. So I have no sympathy for him. His email said, “All those courses are full. What do you suggest I do now?” Uh, I suggest picking a different class. If you can’t fulfill the requirement this semester, there’s always next semester. I swear, they just want me to hold their hands through college. I didn’t have an advisor at my college, not a real one. I had a professor that sort of knew the requirements, but it was up to me to pick all of my courses and make sure the requirements were fulfilled. Once I declared my major in my junior year, the registrar did an audit and gave me an official list of what I still needed in order to graduate, but until then I did everything myself, and I graduated on time. These kids have the same sort of access to the degree requirements and course listings as I did (maybe even more so than I had), and they can’t tell their heads from their asses. Seriously. What the fucking fuck? Continue reading