...and because i don't get to vent about waiting tables outside of work...i give you these little gems:
just because you call the new, hip restaurant and make your precious reservation, show up on time, and sit in my section doesn't mean that you are renting me for the 2 or so hours that you insist of sitting in your booth. believe it or not, it doesn't mean that you can grab my arm and make very personal inquiries about my life and my choices. do you know how many times i've been asked about the tattoo on my wrist? have you never seen a tattoo there before? is this 1950?! why do you always ask if it hurt?!! what's with the morbid curiosity? would you prefer that i respond, "well, ACTUALLY, it was so terrible that i lost a pint of blood and had to be rushed to the emergency room, and i eventually contracted Hepatitis C...so, how are your entrees?"
people who eat out: DON'T TOUCH YOUR SERVERS!! DON'T ASK THEM INANE QUESTIONS ABOUT THEMSELVES!! yes, it's a public job, but that doesn't mean that it has to become personal too. (*incidentally, a man did ask me last night if i got my wrist tattoo to display my machismo. who am i, sylvester stallone?! i also had a clever answer from a younger guy when i asked if i could get his table anything else.."yeah, do you have 1,000 dollars?" to which i replied, "hmm, well if i did i definitely wouldn't be standing here holding your dirty dishes." THAT one felt good.
i like my job well enough, but sometimes i just don't know about people. every once in a while you get a really lovely experience, but usually i feel like i'm walking a tightrope over a pit of morons and social imbeciles.
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