It's almost been a week since I've written. First discovery- I don't have enough stamina in me to blog by the end of my night shifts. In fact, I'm practically brain dead by the end of the night. It's not that the work itself requires a lot of brain power, it's just the fact that I'm mentally drained trying to stay composed, tolerate people and my managers. Then there is the physically tiring work, running back and forth for hours on end. No sitting at all, even if you currently don't have a table to watch over and the night is coming to an end. It makes no sense at all to me, if I'm almost done with the night, all my tables are settled, customers happily left and side work done, why shouldn't I be allowed to sit? I guess it doesn't look good or professional, but its plain bullshit. Whoever came up with the idea of that should be shot.

So in fact, it does take a lot of mentality and willpower to tell your body to just shut the fuck up, ignore the foot pain and keep going, you're getting paid for this. After my shift I usually get home between 12-1:30am. For workplace2 the closing time is suppose to be 11:30pm, but there's always that last table that can't seem to catch the clue that we're fucking closing and so stop taking your sweet ass time. We can't start closing and cleaning the dining room until every customer is out, even if they are in another far off section.

Closing itself usually takes another hour because of all the side work and cleaning. Workplace2 tip pools so at the end of the night, we usually have to wait for the manager (the owner's daughter) to settle the sales of the day, cash all credit card tips and then split it along with the cash tips. What really baffles me is why she couldn't start doing that a few hours ahead of time while shes busy playing on her laptop. No, lets wait until last minute after all the employees clean and have everything in place to start calculating at a glacial pace. The female manager has no sense of decency to at least try to be considerate of the overworked servers as she make us wait after our shift ends. Especially since most of us are ready to just collapse somewhere. The kitchen staff and all the chefs leave way before us since they don't have to do closing work. We usually spend at least half a hour just waiting for her to split our tips of the night. In some cases, some of us just say fuck it and go home then pick it up the next shift we work.

Sunday night was a nightmare compared to the other nights in terms of waiting for the incompetent manager to settle the sales of the day, I initially wanted to wait after my shift to get my tips of the night since I won't be working at this location until the next Friday, so it's not like other days where I'll be able to pick up my pay the following day. The managers ended up arguing for about 2 hours after we closed about why the cash register was 30 dollars short because the owner took out money earlier and they couldn't identify where the shortage was from in sales. Seriously, bickering for 2 hours over thirty fucking dollars. Apparently they can't just split the tips until that was resolved. My tolerance and patience was way over it's limit that night. I just got up and left, I'll pick it up next week. I just wasted 2 hours after my shift ended waiting for nothing, because it was just another one of those nights where they sport their incompetence.

Still, I am getting decent pay for workplace2 but that's mostly due to the fact that we're understaffed and there are only 2-3 actual servers while the rest are in "training". I'm basically doing the runner, server and busser's job myself. Then of course there are the managers who crumble under pressure and start screaming at us over things that aren't part of our responsibilities. There are usually 2-3 managers at workplace2 and they cannot communicate how they want the place to operate. I usually get assigned the booth section so it gets really busy because everyone prefer booth seating and it's by the bar. I was swamped with tables so the guy manager helps me host a table on my section and eventually assign another server to that table in attempt to help take some workload off me, even though it was my section. As the night went on, our sections got mixed up because I was then assigned to watch over half of my co-worker's section along with mines. The female manager comes along and proceeds to yell at me about staying on top of what the customer needs and the tables.

Me: That's not my table though
FM: It's in your section
Me: Yeah, I was swamped so [guy manager] assigned it to [co-worker]
FM: Oh... well next time just manage your own section
Me: Okay, but [guy manager] assigned me these few tables in [co-worker]'s section along with my section. So our sections are kind of mixed up right now. You're both telling and assigning us different things and making our job more difficult.
FM: ...Ok I'll go talk with him

They're boyfriend/girlfriend by the way. The guy manager is very chill but the female manager, shes OK when she doesn't talk. When she does, she just comes off as an anal bitch.

FM: What are you doing? You need to decorate the desserts.
Me: I wasn't aware of that, is there a guideline for that or something?
FM: Just decorate it.

Then she walks out. Great, now I'm a fucking dessert artist as well along with being the runner, busser and waitress. It's hectic because I spend most of my time running between the kitchen and stations to check if the food is out, preparing dessert presentations while taking orders, refills, entering everything into the POS and whatever else the table needs or wants. Then I get yelled at for being in the kitchen too much and not checking the FOH enough, I am checking the dining room but I have to constantly run back to the kitchen. How else am I suppose to know when the fucking food is out? You don't have a runner and the chefs are slow. The owner's wife comes in and ask why am I taking on so many tables if I can't handle it. It's because you're understaffed and I'm doing the job of people you're suppose to hire as part of the kitchen staff. Oh, and the people in training who are suppose to help me, they magically disappear when the night starts to get busy.

Granted it's a new restaurant I didn't expect much but in return, the managers shouldn't expect the servers to be superman and fill in for all the people they haven't hired. Also, because it's a new restaurant, we have to tip out the bartender 30% because there aren't enough alcohol sales for him to be tipped solely on that itself. Does that make sense? The bartender plays no part in serving the food or dealing with the customers nor are they breaking their backs running around but they get a percentage of the servers' entire tip pool instead because they don't have enough alcoholic sales yet? Why is that our fucking problem, the management should be compensating the bartender themselves. Then the people in training get 20%, and then the rest is split between the servers. Even between all that, the pay is good but we're busting our asses for it every night. So that was Thursday - Sunday in a nutshell for me. I don't think this will work out long term at all if the managers don't get their act together.

I'm usually so bummed out by the time I get home I can barely muster up the willpower to shower and whatnot, much less try to write. It would come out as total nonsense anyway. Well, more nonsense than my usual nonsense. I tend to go into my 'I'm tired, pissed, irritated, frustrated and pretty much in PMS state without the period, so leave me the fuck alone and don't annoy me' phase by the end of the night.

Most of my co-workers at workplace2 are all around the same age, with the exception of the bartenders who are in their 30s. The kitchen staff are mostly older as well but all the servers and sushi chefs are in a close age range. During one of our late night chats as we wait for the female manager to split the tip, we were talking about school and majors, somehow the topic of gaming came up and they all seemed to be shocked that I'm actually a gamer (or was). One of my co-workers were trying to convince me to go back to some old games I've played. Turns out, two of the servers and the guy manager are all gamers. We were talking about some games I've played and it was a bit amusing watching them get more shocked as I name games I played or liked, cause in person people usually don't expect me to be into games or still be tomboy in many aspects. The guy manager just laughed and joked "Oh snap, Donna's a nerd!"

The FOH staff are mostly very approachable and decent people. At least on the surface they are, so they'll remain good in my books until they give me a reason to think otherwise. (Lesson learned on 2 sided assholes.) The sushi chefs (3 guys) are coming off as pervs to me or something. They're constantly hitting on me when we're not busy or when I ask them for something. One of the days they sent one person from their group to ask for my number while they giggled. What is this? middle school all over again? Then there were the times they invited me to go out with them after work for fun or have a drink. I just told them I'm dead by the end of the shift and I get off really late- so probably not, but maybe another time or day when we're early or actually close early for once. Mostly just to be polite. There are 2 bartenders and the guy bartender keeps telling me to smile randomly when I stand over my tables.

GB: Smile more!
Me: I do, when I'm talking to customers. If I stood here with a smile on my face I'd just look retarded and creepy instead. You can't force a smile for no reason while you're not dealing with things that should include smiling!
GB: Okay, but you look pissed off.
Me: That's my face's natural expression -_-  I'm not actually pissed off, I'm just...nothing.

So I guess when I'm expressionless and just going about doing what I have to do, I naturally look like a bitch. So that was my killer first week, I'm hoping the upcoming week won't be as hectic.

I think working with people can sometimes both be amusing and enjoyable. Yes, this is really coming from me. Don't get me wrong, sometimes people are assholes and trying to be polite to them is like pulling teeth. There was a night where there was a party of 16 going on in restaurant and unfortunately I was assigned the section right across from the party. It was really loud and the customers were really irritated but I managed except for this one particular old man who was especially angry.

Me: Sir, can I start you off with anything to drink while we prepare your appetizers?
OM: Tea
(I ran in to prepare the tea but the boiler was out of hot water)
Me: I'm sorry sir, the boiler just ran out of water and we're trying to get more hot water in right now. Would you like anything else to drink or water meanwhile?
OM: I DON'T WANT A DAMN THING TO DRINK
Me: Okay, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I'll be back with your tea as soon as possible.
(I come back with the freshly brewed tea)
Me: Here's the tea sir, I'm sorry for the wait.
OM: This crap taste like water!
Me: Sir, we freshly brew the tea as customers order it, you have to let it sit/brew for a bit. Would you like water or anything to drink while the tea sits?
OM: No, what do I look like to you? Why do you keep offering me water geez.
(Some time later)
OM: I've had better tea when I was a jail prisoner, What kind of tea is this crap?
Me: It's green tea sir. (what the fuck am I suppose to say to that? I'm sorry the tea angers you?)

Okay, the guy is a war veteran, hes old, hes angry, life sucks, your sense and body is beginning to disappoint you. I understand but seriously, what the fuck? I'm usually very compassionate towards seniors because my first job when I was 14 years old was as an assistant social worker in a senior center. I imagine it must be difficult just to live and miserable for the most part so I usually try to go the extra mile for them. I really tried but this old man was just impossible to work with. I think his brain is checking out on him, please do yourself a favor and stay home; don't dine out and make a jackass out of yourself.

Then there was this couple who loves drinking in the same section I was assigned that night. The husband must have had about 6 glasses of Merlot and the wife had 2 bottles of Junmai Ginjo-shu along with specialty rolls and sashimi. They were a very pleasant sociable couple but by the end of the night they were almost too social. The couple was really drunk and the wife kept complementing me, "Oh you're such a pretty girl!", "I adore you". In response, trying to be polite I thanked them and said they're a very compatible couple just like one of those picture perfect couples. That did it. The wife got up "Awwww I want to hug you!" pulled my arm and bear hugged me in front of the entire staff and dining room. Then she proceeds to feel my arm (I have my sleeves rolled up for work) going on about how smooth it is and insist her husband feels my arm too. And he did. It was just awkward and everyone was watching. I don't know if I should have been more embarrassed or confused. Then she grabs the head manager (owner's wife) and tells her "I love the food and service here and I love this girl!!!" The owner just smiled and humored them.They're nice people and were very generous tippers though so I forgive them for the... awkward harassment. Even though it goes to tip pooling, hah.

At first the couple spent most of the night asking me about my ethnicity because apparently I don't look entirely Asian, then they spent the rest of the times I came to serve or check up on them guessing which parent of mines must be white or what mix am I. This seems to be a popular topic of discussion with most of my customers since I've started. "You look mix", "You don't really look (entirely) Asian", "What ethnicity are you?" and it goes on. Even most of my co-workers and staff members of both workplace1 and 2 make remarks about it or ask me eventually. It's a bit confusing to me since I don't really see it or think I look different.

I also work Monday-Wednesday at workplace1 as another part time job. The pay isn't as great but it isn't as fast pace at workplace2 since it's weekday nights, especially it being the beginning of the week. Nights are generally slow and boring but unlike workplace2, they have a full staff, so I have a runner and busser making my work a bit easier. I have to tip off my support staff from what I make at the end of the night. I honestly don't think this job is a keeper since I'm getting graveyard shifts but since I'm not in class anyway, I may as well pick up the extra shifts. There's not much stress involved with this job nor is it as hectic. I can consider this job as extra pocket money for the time being.

Tuesday night I had a very old lady seated alone in my section in workplace1. Seniors tend to have small appetites in most cases. The lady ordered a soup and appetizer. She couldn't even get halfway through the appetizer. I felt so bad for her, she looked so fragile and weathered. Her hands were shaking violently as she tried to drink the soup. I would have fed her if I was allowed. I was worried about how she would manage with drinking the hot tea so I got her a straw for the tea and just kept checking up on her to see if she was okay. When she was ready to leave, I wrapped up her appetizer for her and helped her out of her chair, put her coat on her and wished her a good night. She gave me a hug and said I'm the sweetest waitress. Seniors like this, the extra miles are always worth it. Damn you angry old man from before.

Tuesday night just dragged on and then another interesting couple comes in and sits in my section. The wife had a heavy accent she was from the Slovak Republic or something and the husband was American. At first the wife called me over while I was passing by to ask if I was a dancer because I have a good body and look like a dancer, and the usual if I'm mixed thing. I just told her I use to run cross country and that she's giving me too much credit or being polite. (In my head: wtf? I'm a short stub. I wish I had a tall slim dancer body.) The husband started asking me about my age, date of birth, horoscope and zodiac. Apparently he use to do fortune readings as a hobby and side job. So he started having long chats with me as I come to check up on them or pass by the section. I've never done fortune readings in my life. I was basically getting a free one on the job. He mentioned that I should be intuitive about the people around me and follow my intuitions about who is genuine and who has a hidden agenda. He goes on to mentioning that I have good long term memory but I'm not mindful with my short term memory. (lol, correct) That I should be mindful about my stomach because that is my weak body part that is prone to illness. (which is actually spot on) He goes on to telling me somethings general about my horoscope and that most millionaires live under the same sign and other interesting fun facts. He spent the entire evening talking to me while eating 1 entree while his wife munched on appetizers that comes on the house. His bill only came out to be around 12, but he tipped 80%.

It was getting late in the night and of course, the usual customers who comes in before closing always has to come. The guy was a regular and knew one of the other servers very well. My co-worker called me over to chat and teased that the guy customer thought I was 17 and to tell him how old I really am. The guy's attitude changed entirely after that, which was a bit odd. We ended up closing a bit late because of this couple but at least they were considerate to pack their food to go after their drinks and eating for a while. They were generous as well. It was just me and the busboy left to do the closing since my shift is suppose to be 5pm-10:30pm. I did most of the side work and by the time we finish sweeping, the busboy just told me to get home safe earlier and he'll do the rest (mopping, closing up). Hes actually only a couple years older than me and way nicer than the other busser.

Well, today was my only day off and it's 4:30am. I ramble on too much about trivial things. Time to knock out, early busy day ahead tomorrow. Too tired to proof read at the moment, so grammar nazis: fuck off.

Labels: job, tired, waitressing, work