Sunday, August 22, 2010


So luckily for me I have served enough time at my job that I no longer have to work the late night shifts anymore. However, I suffered that torture for a good six months and every so often these days..(if Im literally so broke I cant eat) I will pick up a late night shift. Now I know I've said before that this diner tends to attract the odd balls and several crazies but nothing compares to what we see past midnight...This is when it truly becomes...Hell's Kitchen.

Because Diner X is open to the wee small hours of the morning, it attracts many drunk people who show up after their night of clubbing for a greasy burger before returning home and passing out. These people can truly be so much fun! (that is, if you happen to be partying with them) If however, you happen to be a cranky, sober, exhausted waitress having to deal with them... then oh boy... God help you.

One example of drunken messes is this one... I had a group of 20 somethings come in and sit down at my biggest table, they came in a few at a time and didn't want to wait for their friends to arrive so proceeded to give their orders one by one (drunk people have no patience and need food immediately, which, OK I can relate to) they all are shouting over each other "I wanna pancake", "I need more water", "where's the mustard?" AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH, one at a time please! I'm not fucking wonder woman!

On average I tend go to bed around 11 pm so when I have to stay up working until 4 am my brain just FREAKS OUT and tends not to be so good at multi tasking. Or handling anything at all really.
One thing that happens when you are drunk is you literally inhale your food. I put down a plate, go check on another table and turn around to find that person following me around the restaurant slurring for his check. "Dude, I JUST put your food down, what in the hell?!" So this giant table of screaming lunatics now all want to leave separately and pay separately, not so fun trying to split a 15 person check while serving about 20 other tables and running food all at the same time. Anyway, I go to the register to start splitting checks and I see out the corner of my eye one of the customers on that table throwing all the sugars on the floor and pouring ketchup ALL OVER THE TABLE while saying "You wanna tip, here's your fucking tip". He then proceeds to pick up a salt shaker and throws it at me, hitting me in the elbow. Now grouchy, cranky, sleepy waitress doesn't like this... All I see at that point in red. RED. I don't remember having any thoughts of trying to save my job, I think I thought it was worth risking just to give this little prick a piece of my mind. I fly across the restaurant ready to give this fool what he deserved and what happens?... I slip on on of the sugar packets and fall to my knees. Once I land on the floor I lose all sense of empowerment and will to tell this guy anything, I'm now at breaking point and all I can think is "God, kill me now, just let this floor open up and let me fall through it." So now, I'm fighting back the tears, (Look, I'm not a total pussy but combine lack of sleep, stress, abusive customers and now sore knees and you what do you get?... tears, simple). So I pick myself up and pretend I'm fine to the few people who actually bother to ask and I run to the toilet. It's in there that I now burst into total hysterics, totally uncalled for but I am a woman after all, and can only handle so much at 3 am. By the time I've wiped my tears and calmed down I return to the table and hand them their checks, saying nothing, just giving the prick a look of disgust. This probably worked out better then me flying off the handle as his friends felt so bad they dragged him out themselves and left me a big tip as an apology. Well by that point I've lost all will to live but hey I have an extra $40 in my pocket so I guess that's something right?.....

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Children... Or as i like to call them.. Arseholes in the making

Either kids now days are reading US Weekly and over dosing on Entertainment Tonight at far too young an age or I have to blame the parents....

I took an order from an 8 year old that went something like this...
"I wanna burger; medium rare with no bun, extra lettuce and a side of steamed broccoli and I want parmesan on the side. Not the powdery one, the shaved one." As my jaw drops to the floor I only have on thought....Scary. Really scary.

This got me thinking about how times have changed since I was a kid. When I was 8 and my parents took me to a restaurant Id pretty much eat what I was given or if anything Id ask for cheese on toast, there's no way Id think to order something medium rare, that's crazy! This then got me comparing England to California.... You just cannot go into a restaurant in London and change the whole menu like you can here. Try it.. Ask a British waiter if you can have your salad chopped, tossed, dressing on side and substitute the romaine for spinach. He will most likely tell you to Piss Off and laugh in your face.

One thing I've discovered about myself is that I really have no idea how to communicate with children. I know that some kids grow up fast but they are still children and need to be spoken to as such. This is when I become socially inept... I literally talk to them as if they are adults.

Example...One child of about 6 years old says, "I wanna burger" to which I stupidly respond, "How would you like that cooked?" To which I get zero response, and his parents look at me as if I'm insane.
Being British I have a filthy mouth on me (as if you hadn't noticed) and I often forget to censor myself around children. I've noticed parents scowl at me like I'm the Anti Christ when I've been loudly talking to one of my co workers about some "Fucking Bitch" at table 107. Oops, sorry.

I really do feel like a total outsider at work when it comes to kids. l feel like all the other waitresses are in on a secret I know nothing about. Whenever a baby or toddler comes in they seem to coo over them in a ridiculous fashion..."Awww look how cute he is." and "Oh my God did you see that baby? Soooo adorable." Am I missing something? Because all I see is a screaming, crying little bastard that's probably keeping it's parents up all night and ruining their sex life.
Of course this makes me feel like a total Arsehole so I find myself lying to fit in.. "Oh yeah...he's so sweet, can't wait to have one myself one day." NAAAHT!

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Waitressing + Germaphobe = NIGHTMARE

Last night I served a male couple, as they sat down they asked me to wipe off the table (which was clean FYI) so I grab a cloth and wipe it down. As I walk away I see each of them take out a small bottle of hand sanitizer and pour it on the table and over the silverware, then dry it up with napkins. They catch my eye and see I've been watching and say, "Sorry we're OCD". Now, I'm not judging, I can actually relate to this but what was funny is that when the drinks arrived they didn't use their straws, they put their lips around the glasses... Well folks, Im pretty sure the table was cleaner than those glasses are! I mean I certainly wouldn't drink from them. Busy diner, quick turnaround and only one little man in the back washing dishes... you do the math! So Im sorry boys, you're clearly not as OCD as you think.....

This brings me to the point of my story today... I haven't previously mentioned this but I have major OCD. Im a serious Germaphobe and working in a diner makes this a real nightmare. Not only do I have to wash my hands a thousand times a day but I cannot stop sanitizing the computer screens and all my pens several times during a shift. I usually keep this to myself as one time my boss caught me "cloroxing" the telephone and never let me live it down.

So, remember when the swine flu hit the city? Imagine my reaction to that. Panic, panic, panic. Anytime someone coughed or sneezed at a table I was convinced they had swine flu and I was going to die. I had this one man come in and sit in my section, he was sneezing and coughing like mad and ordered a hot water with honey so I knew it was NOT allergies. I tried to take his order as far away from the table without looking to weird, all the while pretty much holding my breath. He then proceeded to ask me if he could borrow a pen for a minute. "Oh God. Why my bloody pen?" i thought. So I begrudgedly hand it over to him and say, "Just keep it, I have a tons of them", (total lie, in fact I was short on pens that day but there was no f'ing way I was gonna put that thing back in my pocket).

Firstly I think its only common decency to stay the f**k at home, preferably incubated if you're sick. Don't bring your germy ass into a public place so all the patrons and staff can catch it too, you selfish bastards. Secondly why is it that people still try and shake your hand? I mean it just doesn't seem necessary to me in this day and age and meeting hundreds of people on a daily basis means Im obliged to shake a few hands.WHY??????!!!