So it is no surprise that many of these ass kissers are aspiring part time, out of work, or wannabe actors/actresses. Kissing ass of someone you would rather slap takes some major acting skills.
My favorite thing about some of the servers I have worked with is when they pour me drinks (if there is no sommelier). Yes, sometimes it’s just necessary to drink on the job. Most of the bosses I have worked for were no strangers to drinking on the job either. In fact, they’d even be the ones pouring the drinks sometimes. Whether it’s pouring wine or mixing up cocktails, most of the servers I have worked with always knew what I liked and would serve me drinks accordingly. With cocktails, I love fruity drinks. With wine, I mostly like dessert wine. Sometimes I like champagne. With wine, I mostly like the sweet and fruity stuff. And I can’t drink anything with too much tannin. I prefer the milder stuff. Over time, the servers all have learned what to give or not give me.
Servers LOVE scoring food. You would think that they never eat at home. In the middle of a rush, when there’s a plate of food that someone barely touched, servers will take it to their corner of the kitchen. The other servers will smell food and flock to that one plate like a bunch of hungry birds. And it is usually gone in a matter of minutes. And there is always a poor bastard that was a tad too late to the party of the unfinished plate picking. He was most likely too tied up to stop by earlier. He’d then heartbreakingly say, “Where did it go? It’s gone ALREADY?”
There was a time when a plate of mine was sent back because the person did not like it. I started to panic a little, hoping no one was going to expect me to actually pick off a piece to taste what someone else ate off of. But luckily, everyone else saw that I was superbusy…my boss ended up tasting it.
Bread seems to be the only food item that I have seen FOH handle. They usually have their own bread station in the kitchen. And I hate to gross you out, but don’t be surprised if they are not handwashing in between each run, especially after handling cash, taking part in clearing tables, and such. But if we are going to get more real, it’s not like every BOH member is meticulously washing their hands in between each task (except for me but that’s more for personal reasons because I am OCD about it). I love bread, so when I am dining at a restaurant, I gotta try really hard to not think about what gross being just cut that delicious bread.
Yeah, we hate them (FOH crew) sometimes, but when we are not fantasizing about throwing pots and pans at them, they can be cool.
Speaking of hating them, I just remembered this one biatch I really wanted to slap. It was a day when someone suddenly called in, so I was alone. I don’t mind being alone when it’s reasonably busy but not crazy busy. BUT we all know I got issues with the hunger rage. I can work all day and night without issues as long as I have been properly fueled. And at that time, since I was by myself, I didn’t really have time to eat. I was starving, about to pass out…and in full on behgopa rage. I just needed ten minutes to step away and eat something real quick. The servers agreed to not take any more orders temporarily until I get back. I felt so incredibly relieved as I plated that last order, so ready to get recharged. And then comes in that bitch, “on the ticket for table so and so, they want it such and such,”
“Ummm…everyone agreed to hold the orders until I get back,”
And then she says the four dreaded words….”It’s for a VIP,”
So fuck….what could I do…..I had to take it. And after that, before I even had a chance to say anything, I think everyone assumed I was back from break or something…..the orders kept rolling in…I was beyond wanting to pass out stage. In the end, I couldn’t eat until it was time to go home. But anyways, yeah…..I really really wanted to throw something at the bitch AND that VIP AND that person that called in….because of them, I couldn’t eat!