My first night back to waiting tables was not, as I suspected, as hellish as I'd imagined. It was hellish yes but, there's been worse. Mostly I was just re-amazed at how rude people can be when it comes to servers.
Let me tell you this: when something comes late out of the kitchen, it's not because it's your server's fault, 80% of the time. Yes, we do forget to input things but honestly, that's rare. It almost always means there's a snafu that the cooks are handling and that you can just calm down after politely reminding the waiter about it. It does not mean that you have a shit fit and talk loudly about your server even after they explain the situation for you. I mean, really. Do you think I care after you've just been such an asshole? Now I'm going to make sure I take forever.
Another no-brainer. If you have ANY type of preference as to how food is prepared, ask your server. Seriously. For example: if you order mac & cheese at a restaurant known for adding spices to everything, and you suspect it may be a bit spicy, then why don't you just go ahead and check on, oh I don't know, whether or not it may indeed include spices? Now the wrong thing to do in this situation is to tell me that I should have told you that your entree was spicy. When it was clearly on the menu as "spicy". I'm worried about the other 25 people in the restaurant, so I don't have time to phonetically spell things out for you off of the menu. And if you attempt to blame me for not playing Reading Rainbow with your ass, you can rest assured it will indeed backfire. How, I am not at the liberty to discuss. I just know I wouldn't want to anger that large man from Mexico City in the back who just burned himself making your first pansy-assed order of mac & cheese and now has to re-make it to toothless bland mush while violating his own special recipe based on your whinging. Word to the wise: ask first, or suck it up later.
I forgot how being a waitress means you get flirted with a lot. When you're in a position of servitude, I sincerely think it turns some men on and since you're trapped, they feel free to put the moves on you. It's amusing and I try to be gentle, but last night this guy would not stop. I am also not really into the idea of flirting with you to get more tips so, please note there was no leading on. I was just being nice. But finally I had to make it clear "Look, this is my job. Now, here's your check and leave me be." I hate being that person, but I also hate the idea of being strangled behind the restaurant's dumpster with my own bra so, it had to be done. These are the breaks, Kurtis Blow.
Just in case you were wondering, here is a helpful guide for how to pick out a pet tarantula. I know I feel better about my impending purchase of this exotic, potentially lethal pet.