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Thoughts, observations, and introspections from an art student waiter/bartender in South Beach. Arcane humor ensues.
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:: Friday, January 02, 2009 ::

:: Server Stories: Little Things ::
We got our asses kicked at worked tonight. There were only four waiters scheduled and we got hammered with 140 reservations. We barely got through but the kitchen was having a bad night and it affected us. Steaks were taking too long and when they finally came out, some of them weren't cooked properly. Steaks were being returned for being either over or undercooked.

I'm normally even-tempered but at one point and slammed my notepad down and yelled "FUCK!" when the busboy came back with an undercooked steak. (Irony being that the steak was actually a perfect medium, but this asshole had his own idea of what constitutes "medium.") I was in the kitchen and no customers heard me.

Later there was an incident with one of the busboys involving a flying coffee cup. He's terrible and lazy, and there has been talk of terminating him. But that's no excuse to lose my temper like that. (Full disclosure; I was aiming for the wall, not him.) Now I'm wondering if I'm going to get written up. The manager usually has my back and he was sympathetic but I could tell he disappointed in my behavior. I apologized to him, the busboy, and rode home wanting to beat my head against the wall for losing my composure.

I came home, and immediately downed a shot of Jack. I poured another glass and sat down to check my email. I received a notice that someone commented on my blog. (Few and far between these days.) I clicked on the comment, and I couldn't help but smile after reading what Jamy wrote.

No, I wasn't asking, but she wrote anyway and perhaps it was my somber mood at the time but I immediately felt better. It was a little gesture but little things like that are the kind of things that mean a lot to me.

I started thinking about this "friend" thing. I usually consider "friends" to be limited to people I've met in person. My Facebook friends are people I know in real life. (Okay, two exceptions.) That being said, I think my readers probably know me better than some of the people who know me in real life. I read blogs more frequently than I talk to my friends. I also have genuine reactions to things I read. When I read about a blogger's trip to Paris, I was excited for her and a little envious. When a blogger wrote about a miscarriage, I felt sad. When I saw that a friend got a new boyfriend, I was happy for her.

We're not talking major reactions or anything. I'm not very emotional to begin with but reading about lives of my readers matter to me. If I'm reading a blog of someone I know in the real world, even more so. I have friends who went through these things at some point and those things will always matter more.

Still, the people behind the blogs I read still matter. I wouldn't leave comments otherwise. That’s probably just how things are these days. As much as I hate to admit it, I like when readers leave comments. A simple little gesture but it's still much appreciated; even responses to my dumb posts about giant cheeseburgers and rants on my favorite sports teams. (Especially the dumb posts about giant cheeseburgers and rants on my favorite sports teams.) Maybe blog comments are in their own way, like text messages, only far less annoying. Little things like that, I guess, are things that friends do.

Most of this is probably stuff you already know and I'll be the first to admit that this post is ridden with platitudes and banalities, but I just finished my fourth glass of Jack on an empty stomach. Future posts will get better.

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:28 AM [+] :: | 0 comments

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