:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

Thoughts, observations, and introspections from an art student waiter/bartender in South Beach. Arcane humor ensues.
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:: Monday, March 10, 2008 ::

:: Server Stories: The New Job ::
The last post was about how I got the job. This post is about what the job is like.

The short version is that so far it's... eh. I haven't made much money despite the fact that the prices are considerably higher than my old job. For one, the nights have been slow and being the new guy, I don't get a good section until I pay my dues.

On my first night on the floor as a waiter, I walk up to my first (and only) table of the night and I greet the couple by saying, "good evening, welcome to Seafood Grill." Don't even bother, I'll say it for you: I'm a fucking idiot. Old habits are hard to break. Fortunately, it's an older couple and the music is going so they don't hear much beyond "welcome."

Tuesday and Wednesday night were snoozers. It was slow and no one really did much of anything. Thursday night, I got assigned to a party of 125 people in the mezzanine. No problem except it was a gropu of Italian Nationals and only a handful of people in the party spoke even passable English. Everyone else insisted on speaking Italian despite the fact that I don’t look remotely Italian. Also working against us was that they didn’t assign enough servers, there were two new guys and the party Captain was also a first time Captain. All things considering, he did a pretty good job making sure everything that needed to be done got done but it was an ordeal. In the end, the customers were happy and we walked out with a decent payday.

Friday was okay. Saturday sucked because it was the coldest night of the month and I was assigned an outdoor section. I had three tables the entire night. I picked up a 7-top indoors because of one of the waiters wanted to leave early. Cool, just transfer it and I'll take over. Except they spoke mainly Spanish and were very high maintenance. He also failed to mention that there were a few items they turned away that he conveniently forgot to ask the manager to void leaving me to explain why Table 11 was asking to speak to management. I had Sunday off and I used it to decompress and run some errands.

Monday SUCKED because although I finally got a full section, it was indoors and the weather finally warmed up enough that the majority of the customers wanted to dine al fresco. I walked home with $22.

Honestly though, it's just a run of bad luck and like averages in baseball, things will improve.

I'm venting and ranting somewhat but truth be told, it's not all bad. The majority of my co-workers are really cool people, and many of them have been more than happy to help me out if I have a question or five. They invited me out for drinks on my third night and got to know some of the folks. One of the girls is already in love with my shoulder rub techniques. Couple of the guys and I have already bonded to the point that we're already talking shit to each other.

The General Manager, like any good GM, knows his stuff, regales the staff with stories of his accomplishments, loves the sound of his own voice, and is viewed by the staff with either apathy or acrimony. The two assistant managers on the other hand, seem like good people.

Antonio has been there for only two months but he's the friendly one that goes around and greets the staff before work. It seems however, that the staff views him as the GM's puppet (or "puppy" depending on the person's grasp of American euphemism.

Vera is an absolute sweetheart. She always sits patiently and answers my numerous questions, doesn't go on ego trips, is exceedingly friendly, and is always willing to help someone out. It's somewhat surprising since literally every manager I've worked for has some sort of character flaw that manifests itself eventually, be it ego, melodrama, power-trippers, inability to handle pressure, or lackadaisical work ethics. I saw none of this, though it may be because I haven't been there long enough. Also, perhaps because she's part French, is about 5'10," and possesses a willowy body, but she's always dressed impeccably. It's too bad she's a smoker. And married. And completely out of my league.

Still, this beats sitting around on my ass, nursing sore feet from walking around South Beach job hunting, and watching Food Network reruns.

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:56 AM [+] :: | 0 comments

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