Here’s a tip: We do not have replicators. Not yet, anyway.
Someone has to make your fucking food. That means that when I take your drink order, I must go make your fucking drinks. At Red Lobster, I take your food order and then have to go make your fucking complimentary salads. It takes a long fucking time if I do it correctly by using tongs or gloves. I could bring it quicker if I used my bare hands, but out of respect for you (and local health code) I do things the right way. So don’t fucking bitch at me when I come back with your salads that, “it took a long time.”
No fucking shit, dumbasses. You dragged seven people into my section, wasted ten minutes trying to figure out what you wanted to order while simultaneously insisting you were ready to order. It takes a long fucking time to take your order, so I must quickly stop by my other tables and make sure they’re alright. Then I put in your order as quickly as fucking possible, because I want you out of my fucking section. I have to make your salads at lightning speed so that everything is timed correctly and you have time to finish your salads before your meal arrives.
Make no mistake; I am working my fucking ass off to make your shit and get it on your table. Don’t you dare look at me and say, “It took long enough.” The food doesn’t just fucking materialize in the kitchen window, ready to be brought to your table. A human being must put your food together. It takes some time. If you’ve waited 10 minutes for a salad, that’s a bit excessive. If you’ve waited 3 minutes, not so much. So shut the fuck up and appreciate the fact that someone else is making food for you to eat.
I am in the process of switching from one restaurant I used to work for (and now work for again) to another restaurant where I have previously worked, and my friend who worked there and I were discussing how great it was that not only did we not have to make salads and appetizers, but also we weren’t even allowed in the kitchen. There are food runners who bring the food from the kitchen to a counter by the bar, and it’s a reasonably small place, and you have one more line of defense against getting the wrong food or a fucked-up order. You ring it what you want and someone brings it out and basically hands it to you. It’s great. At my current place, we have to make all the salads and nachos, some of which take a while and of course it’s never fully stocked, so you end up running around trying to find a can of beans and a can opener so you can make nachos, while the people you tip out stand there admiring your dirty tables and take “standing in the way drinking soda” breaks.
It’s a family-owned place, the restaurant I work for now, but as the son has gotten older, he’s trying to make it as corporate as possible. We NEVER used to have hosts or bussers, or have to tip out the smart-mouthed 18-yr old who refuses to either make salads or move the fuck out of the way. Now there’s a bunch of extra people, we still have to do all our own shit, and we have to tip them all. AND they re-did the sections, so instead of 5-7 tables we get 3 or 4, and we started closing earlier so no one comes in past 9. AND the owners and managers are cowards, who refuse to right any bad situation or talk to upset customers, so any simple mistake by the kitchen can result in no tip for you. I used to make half my rent on a decent night, and I was busy until 11 or 12. Now, I can count on being bored on a Saturday night closing shift, with nothing to do from 9-12, and tip out almost a fourth of my tips.
Bitch bitch bitch. I’m sorry. Not enough to not post this though, because MAN that felt good to write.
Let it all out, that situation SUCKS. I wish you the best at the new place… it sure sounds better!