Tonight I made my (not so) triumphant return to the restaurant after four sick days. I am in no way ready to return to work, but as stated in previous entries, no work=no money. So I mustered all the positive energy I could, drank an extra big cup of cough syrup, took a couple hits off the fun inhaler the doctor gave me and set out for my dinner shift on the patio. I have Bronchitis and a nasty head cold at the moment, so there is constantly an insane amount of pressure in my sinuses. It leaves me feeling sluggish, angry, and hearing things as though I'm at the bottom of a well. Only able to capture about half the things my guests said to me this evening, I frequently just shook my head at them while smiling and repeatedely saying, "Okay...Okay." Understandably, there were quite a few miscommunications tonight. "Oh, you wanted extra barbecue sauce? I'm so sorry I thought you said potatoes." I was constantly apologizing for bringing someone the wrong item. About halfway throught the shift there was a moment when my ears popped and I could hear everything perfectly! Then the hearing in my right ear went out completely and the hearing in my left ear took on superhuman or robot like abilities. Thankfully I could hear what people were saying to me, as long as it was all directed toward my left ear.
The high note of the evening came with table 717. While serving their drinks I misjudged the weight on my tray and dropped all of the drinks onto the table - more specifically onto a cell phone, into one man's lap, and mostly into another guest's expensive coach purse. I really did an impressive job of filling the purse with delicious Caribbean Long Islands. They were very understanding as two of my managers miraculously appeared at the scene instantly and began handing out cards and apologies. We got them dry and offered to pay for any cleaning or replacement costs and I carried on with the meal. Things were going great...until I spilled a beer onto another gentleman's steak and mashed potatoes. I had now spilled five drinks on two separate occasions at the same table. I'm not sure if they could tell I was having bad night, if I came across as mentally challenged, or if they were just nice people, but God love 'em, they went with it. They were able to laugh about it as I assured them I am actually a very good server and that I was most sorry about the beautiful purse. My managers comped their entire meal, which helped ease the mood some more at the end and also secure me the twenty percent tip I probably wouldn't have gotten otherwise.
Overall I was slow, unfriendly and looked miserable. I am shocked that none of my guests comlained and that I actually made twenty percent tips all night. It's terrible having to serve other people when you're sick but it certainly helps to be serving good people. Thank you to all my lovely tables tonight. Except for Sloppy Joe Rib Man, my last guest of the night. You sir, with your extra roles, your extra sauce, and your spooky ability to eat every ounce of meat off the bone while coating every dish on the table in barbecue sauce, as well as your .80 tip - you get no thanks from me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment