It's all you buddy

I've been thinking about the way people talk to the help. There are certain things, that when said to us, often solicit a very specific reaction. For instance, the phrase, "it's all you buddy," usually makes the hairs on the back of my next stand up as it usually prefaces a ten percent or verbal tip. Another one that usually send my heart sinking is, "thank you so much, you were the best waiter we've ever had." Anytime a guest feels the need to tell me I am the best waiter they've ever had, it is usally because they are compensating for the 5-8% waiting for me in the check presenter. And also, while it really is a nice sentiment, it also hits home in strange way. I am the best waiter - hurray! It's like being the big fish in a small pond or being the best at a sport when all of the others don't know the rules. Is it really something to be proud of, being a good waiter? But that is something for an entirely different entry - one that I'll post when I'm feeling especially full of self confidence and a genuine joy for my job.

There are myriad statements that trigger a Pavlovian response in the waiter.

"Can you bring us lemon and sugar please?"
This makes me think you are a cheap bastard who is audacious enough to make lemonade in front of me instead of paying the two dollars it costs to actually buy one.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of you."
That special gem is ususally spoken by someone whose heart is in the right place. They mean well. They somewhat understand what it is like to weight tables -all the issues of timing, pleasing guests, and managing a station. They know that one table making constant demands can upset the fragile harmony of the station. They also know that they are going to be that table and believe that by apologizing in advance with the offer of extra cash, it is okay to run the waiter like some kind of personal slave. Nine times out of ten that "hook up" is nothing more than 20%. Wow, you left me the industry standard? Thanks!

"I'm a waiter too." or "We're all servers also."
This one really boggles my mind. I eat out fairly often and I don't feel the need to tell the waiter that I'm also a member of the club. The waiter who feels the need to share this with the waiter is usually about to break some cardinal rule of serving. Don't be a demanding, outrageous guest to another server! Typically it goes something like this, "We're all waiters too, so we're really sorry about this, but can we get ten separate checks?" Or, "I'm a waiter at _____, do you think you can order me this on the fly? I need to be out in twenty minutes." No no my friend, you are really saying, "I don't mean to be rude, BUT..." This person is also fishing for a discount. Once again, no no. If they are a regular or I have some kind of rapport already established, then by all means, yes, I'm going to bring some free goodies to the table. But I'm not going to comp that dessert just because you don an apron a few nights a week as well.

"We need to hurry. We have to get the airport."
Really? Really? I might not be the smartest person in the world, but I have figured out over the years that when pressed for time, when in a rush, when facing possible missed flights and the loss of hundreds of dollars it might not be the best time to head out to a sit down restaurant. There are these really nifty places out there called fast rood restaurants and grocery stores that actually make food available to you cheaply and within minutes. Highly worth checking out when in a pinch.

"Can we get a chair for the doll?"
I work within minutes of the American Girl store and hear this one more often than you might think. No, no you cannot get a chair for the doll nor can you have a height chair for the doll. You might find it cute and your daughter might find it cute. But you are not here to be cute. You are here to eat a meal. If the doll orders a cocktail or at least an appetizer, than maybe I'll bring out a chair.

And because this entry was a bit of an angry rant, here are some of the funny things I've heard people say to their mothers/grandmothers while waiting tables:

"Look out Grandma! They might put you to work flipping burgers."

"Do you want some ice cream Grandma? No, no ice cream? You're too full? Then how about some fudge cake Grandma - you want a little fudge cake instead?"

"Grandma, they can probably make those gin gimlets you like so much."

"You remember what happened the last time you ate pork chops Grandma."

"Grandma, don't order anything too hard. We just paid for those teeth."

"You've always enjoyed a good beer or two haven't you Grandma?"

Who cooks all those manly meats?

I was going through some of my notes last night and happened upon one of my favorite customers. She was a well dressed, fairly attractive, middle aged business woman who dined at the chef's counter one evening. The chef's counter is a diner style counter that curves around the end of our open kitchen, allowing guests to view the excitement of the grills while they munch on their steaks and other such treaties. This particular woman and I established a nice rapport, discussing different foods and wines we enjoy. We made our way through the normal small talk over the course of the meal, hitting on the weather and Chicago landmarks among other topics. Near the end of the meal, she waved me over the counter and asked me, "Michael, are any of these men the chef?" She was gesturing to a pack of frantic line cooks sweating over the enormous grills, and drinking sprite from pitchers. "Oh no ma'm," I explained, "these men are the cooks. They prepare all the dishes but the chefs are the men in white coats, running the line from the other side." "Well, are any of these cooks Brazilian? Do you have any great Brazilian men to prepare the meat?" Hold up. This is probably where I should have excused myself from the conversation under the guise of another table in need, but I couldn't help myself and I plowed forward. "Well it's hard to say. Our kitchen staff is from all over Mexico and Latin America. They represent many different South American countries." "I asked because you know how those Brazilians love their meat. They grill all of those manly meats down there you know. Like at that Fogo de Chao restaurant - all of those manly meats being prepared by those Brazilian chefs." At this point I was choking it was so difficult not to giggle over this woman's constant repetition of the phrase "manly meats." "Oh yes, Brazilian steak houses are certainly well known," I replied, "but I don't know if any of these cooks are Brazilian." "Well I'll have to ask them. I'll have to ask these manly grillers where they learned to cook meat. They must really love it you know, to be slaving over these hot grills, cooking all of these meats, these manly meats." Seriously? I mean, seriously? Was that woman really saying those things to me, and how could she possibly think it's okay to say such strange, oddly graphic things to the waiter? I couldn't hold in my laughter any more and blurted out, "gross." "Excuse me," she replied. "I'm sorry ma'm, but could you please stop saying manly meats so much to me. It's really the most comical way you could describe the meat." Thankfully, she also began to laugh and we both agreed it was a very silly conversation we were having. I excused myself to fetch a refill for another table and thanked the woman for her conversation and for the unintended giggles as well. People say the most outrageous things to their waiters. It's nice though, every shift is different.