Are you a server,bartender,busser or restaurant host with a great
story to tell? Are you a kitchen manager with some great tips for
keeping things tidy and efficient, or perhaps a restaurant bartender
with a fantastic new recipe or technique? If that’s you, we want to
know. Waiters Today Social Network is hosting our first ever blog
contest for netizens connected to the restaurant industry. We want to
hear your stories and experiences, and we want our readers to hear
them too.

TO ENTER:

Sign in to your Waiters Today account or register for a new account.
Write a blog post (or five or 10) and post it under the “My Blogs”
section and you’re in. You can enter as many times as you want, and
best of all, it’s free!

RULES:

Submit your blog posts between enter date here and enter date here
(time zone).
Your blog post must be unique, written by you, and not previously
published anywhere on the internet.
Your blog post must be somehow related to the restaurant industry.
Your article can be a personal anecdote, an informative how-to, or any
other format, as long as it relates to restaurants and the restaurant
industry.

The blog post with the most Facebook likes (found in the “Share” panel
at the bottom of each post) wins.Contest starts on April 23th
2012.Winners will be announced on the blog on May 7th 2012.

PRIZES:

1st Place- $500

2nd Place- $250

3rd Place- $150

4th Place- $75

5th Place- $50

Tips for Winning:

Make your post engaging and fun to read.
Promote your blog post by sending a link to your Facebook friends or
posting it to your Twitter feed.
Link to your blog post on your other websites or blogs.
Share your post with the masses on sites like Pinterest, Digg, or
StumbleUpon.

http://waiterstoday.com/profiles/blogs/waiters-today-blogapalooza-2012

I work at a diner in the middle of tourist district where July 4th is
one of the busiest days of the year. The boss is never at work and
doesn’t give a shit, (literally, the restaurant was on fire and she
didn’t even bother coming in she just had someone text her pictures.),
our manager wants off every other day, and no one basically gives a
fuck, but to be dramatic and bitch at each other and text the boss and
tell on each other. I am certain that over half the workers there
would be down for a walkout. In which there is 4 servers and 2 hosts
out front, and 3 cooks and 2 dishwashers in back. On July 4th i want
to get busy as shit, i mean 45 minutes to an hour waiting list. Then
just as all the tickets are back, just everyone that is there mass
text the boss and said we are done or whatever snappy saying someone
can come up with. Then leave. Then once the boss comes in it will only
be her, the guy that fucks her in the office, her drug addict son, and
his wife that is stuck in that crazy family. So from 11 people to
4…maybe a riot would start.

- Casey

I work in a hotel and we get theses big groups in house, keep in mind
that we are a hotel we sell sleep so our bar closes normally at 12 a.m
but sometimes we will stay open later. This last group had a lady say
to the person next to her “what kind of bar closes at 1:30″ standing
right in front of her I start to explain to her that in California we
close at this time in the whole state( which leads me to think she is
from NY) so as i start in, she says “I am not talking to you” very
rude. Let me paint a picture brunette lady at about 300 to 350 pounds
with a sleeveless dress. Not to be rude myself but what huge fat ass
lady wears a dress with no sleeves, just finished sucking down one of
my fantastic manhattans has the courage to be rude to the guy with
booze behind him. go fuck yourself you beached whale, loose some
weight then be a bitch. And while your at it pull the I am better than
everyone stick out of your ass.

Im now The Operations Manager for a group of restaurants, but i’ve
worked my way up the hard way.

I am still amazed at the rude, stupid people that i come into contact
with on a daily basis.

Guys, remember that this job is not for everyone, take pride in doing
something that “normal” people will not be able to hack

- Reuben

I work at a small, family owned Indian Restaurant in small town, just
outside of a big city. This means that we get a different variety of
customers coming in & you never really know what to expect. I had to
work on Valentine’s Day this year, which is always…fun. Our
restaurant closes between lunch and dinner for an hour and half so we
have a chance to clean and set up for dinner so we can re-open at
4:30. For some reason we did not have a ton of reservations so there
were only 2 of us working. I was scheduled to start at 3:30 with the
other server coming in at 5:30. By 4 pm I had a line of people waiting
outside, wanting to be let in. I told them we did not open until 4:30
but offered to let them come inside, out of the freezing weather & to
get them something to drink.
All 3 tables took me up on that offer and came inside. I got them
water & Papadum (our complimentary snack), gave them menu’s & told
them I’d be back in 25 minutes to take their orders but to let me
know if they had any questions. Two of my tables understood what I was
saying & quietly kept to themselves as I frantically finished prepping
for dinner. The 3rd table, a man & a woman in their 30’s I’d say,
though much have thought I was speaking another language when I told
them that I couldn’t take their orders till 4:30 since the kitchen
wasn’t open till then. They called me over 5 minutes after I sat
them & this is the conversation that followed:

ME (walking over with a smile)-Do you guys have a question?
MAN (In a pleasant tone at the moment) – No we don’t have a
question but we’re ready to order.
ME – He then starts to order appetizers, ignoring me when I try to
interrupt. I give up & wait till he takes a breath and say, “Sir, I
can’t take your order right now because the restaurant isn’t
technically open for another 20 minutes”
MAN – (Glaring at me for interrupting him & telling him no) what do
you mean the restaurant isn’t open? We’re sitting here aren’t
we? (He then pretends to look around & asks his wife in a sarcastic
tone if they are inside the restaurant or not)
ME – Yes sir, you are sitting inside the restaurant but as I
mentioned when I let you in, its only because it’s starting to snow
outside.
MAN – Why do we have to wait till 4:30? Since we already inside, you
don’t you do your damn job & take our order?
ME – (Still smiling but really trying to not say something I’m
going to regret later) I can’t take your order sir because the
kitchen isn’t open till 4:30. Even if I did take your order they
wouldn’t receive your order ill 4:30 & wouldn’t start making it
till then.
MAN – What do you mean the kitchen isn’t open? I say people
working in their when we walked in.
ME – There are people in the kitchen sir but they are still doing
prep work for dinnertime.
MAN – That’s fucking ridicules. Those people are already there.
They are being paid to be making food. Why the fuck won’t you give
them my order so they can make our food?
ME – (Getting angry) Sir, Could you please not use curse words. This
is a restaurant not your home & you cannot talk to me like that.
MAN – (He’s starting to get louder and louder) I can talk to you
any damn way I want. You are a fucking moron if you don’t realize
that I pay your salary by coming here to eat.
ME – (I’m done smiling & being polite to this guy) Sir if you do
not stop yelling and cursing at me I am going to ask you to leave &
not come back.
MAN – (Screaming at me now) DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I CAN TALK TO YOU
ANY FUCKING WAY I WANT. YOU CAN’T DO A DAMN THING ABOUT IT, YOU
FUCKING BITCH.
ME – (I was just staring at this guy in complete shock & was
speechless for once in my life. I opened my mouth to say something
when I left someone gently grab my arm. I looked back to see 2
gentlemen from the other 2 tables I’d seated. Both men were big and
strong but had been totally gentlemen when I’d seated them. One of
the men took me to his table & made me sit down next to his wife. He
then joined the other gentleman at the moron’s tables)
NICE GUY 1 – (In a totally calm, cool voice) you do not talk to
ANYONE that way but especially to a young woman. This is a privately
owned business. If you don’t like the way they are doing things,
leave but don’t you dare yelling at someone who is just doing this
job.
MAN – This is none of your fucking business, old man. Why don’t
you go sit down at your table and mind your own damn business.
NICE GUY 2 – You made it our business when you started behaving the
way you are. Now I’m going to politely ask you to leave or you
aren’t going to like what happens next.
MAN – ARE YOU THREATENING ME? You can’t talk to me that way!
NICE GUY 2 – I’m not threatening you. (Then the guy reaches into
his pocket and pulls out his wallet and says to guy) I am a police
officer. If you don’t leave, right now I’m going to arrest for
harassment and anything else I can think of.
MAN – (Just looks at the two men in silence before telling his wife
“let’s go. I don’t want to eat at his fucking place anyways”)

After the guy leaves, the two men walked back over to me and asked me
if I was okay. When I said yes, they told me to not worry about this
because some people are just born idiots. By this time, the kitchen
had opened so I took their orders and gave them the best service of my
life. Both tables left me big tips & spoke to my manager before they
left to insure I wouldn’t get in trouble. Those men prevented a bad
situation from becoming worse.

- Irritated Waitess

Image via Wikipedia

I waitressed for 10 years before finally getting my masters and a
teaching job 6 months ago…and by far, my worse experience was the 40
year old man who hit me in the back to get my attention!
We were slammed on a Friday night…the guy was rude from the
beginning…as was his family. Of course, being the good little
waitress that I was, I busted my ass trying to get him and everyone
else 10 things, even though I pretty much knew a tip from his table
wasn’t happening. Apparently I forgot to get his 3rd side dish of
ranch dressing….b/c as I walk by, I get hit in the back and sent
flying forward! I didn’t know what happened at first, then looked
back, and he said “WHERE’S MY RANCH!?” My mouth dropped…as did the
tables surrounding him…I said, “Did you seriously just HIT me?!” and
he looked at me like I was an idiot, and said he had been waiting 20
minutes..(ummm…try 5 minutes…on your 3rd dish, you asswipe!)
I went back to the kitchen and had another server get the ranch for
him…b/c I wasn’t going back to the table. I would have had a manager
deal w/ it…but, as I said, we were slammed…so I just avoided him
like the plague….he ended up getting a manager and complaining about
my service…b/c I stopped going over to his table–even though
another server started taking care of him–AND he ended up getting
most of food comped!!
I have a million horror stories form serving…but getting hit in the
back for some ranch definitely topped them all! At least I could
always get drunk and bitch about it after work! LOL!

- Kim

Ranch Dressing

Riesling (Photo credit: J. Star)

I work in a blue collar, family style restaurant, as of now. I’m more

familiar with high end “hoity toity ” situations and not ” is Riesling

a white wine” places.

Tonight I had the pleasure of waiting on a family of 5 ( 3 kids and

Mom and Dad) that made my day. It was kind of late for me as we close

at 9 PM. The youngest girl introduced herself as Princess Six-Kills. (

She even told me they were native americans and had six people who had

killed someone) I was trying hard not to laugh because I thought she

said “Princess Sex-kills” She was so cute. Sparkly overalls and shoes.

She could have knocked me over with a feather. However, they were a

delightful family and I totally wanted to adopt the kids. The oldest

girl want a “big kids” menu and was pretty and bright. She loved the

giant hamburger she ordered and could hardly get her “lips around it”

I did all I could not to crack up on the spot. They were one of the

most fun families I have ever waited on. Polite, engaging and in the

moment. Loved them. To make the situation even better, they tipped

BIG! Please Princess Six-Kills , come back with your family and see me

again. Even if your Dad didn’t get the pink unicorn from the vending

machine. I love this family.

- Doris

Hello Everybody!

Do any of you have any experiences with daily deals? Has your restaurant done a daily deal and been completely slammed? How did it turn out? How were the tips? Any repeat business?Would you recommended it as a good way to get business? We would love to post some stories regarding your experiences with daily deals (I can imagine some FANTASTIC customers came in – and tipped you on the total check BEFORE the discount). Please submit some stories regarding daily deals or just post them in the comments! Thanks and I hope everybody makes some money this weekend!

- Stuck Serving

Normally, I’m not racist, sexist, homophobic, ageist, or anything like

that. I’m completely for equality, and I’ve been told that shows

through my serving, as I treat everyone the same.

But, sometimes, people just prove the stereotype that makes people

biased, and even I can’t help but generalise sometimes. Of course,

there are some that disprove the stereotypes, and keep your faith in

individuality strong, but quite a few don’t.

One table I had was like that. They were Pakistani, I believe, all

nine of them men, and they seemed to believe that since I was a woman,

I should be at home, with a husband, barefooted and pregnant while

making dinner for when said husband comes home. Now, don’t get me

wrong, I’d love a family of my own some day, but that life isn’t for

me.

So, pretty much the second I walked up to them, I got an intense

feeling that they really didn’t like me. Regardless, I put on the

biggest smile I could and treat them the best I can, despite the

obvious glares. Unfortunately, they seem to think I was their slave

and ran me ragged, the second I got back to their table I got ‘asked’

for another drink refill, more garlic bread, etc, etc. And I use the

term ‘asked’ loosely since they usually just grunted ‘Bread’ or

‘Water’.

Since it was a slow night, and almost closing time, I was the only

server left and they were my last table, meaning that each time they

‘asked’ for something, I couldn’t make the excuse I was busy, and they

knew it.

Finally, after what feels like hours (In reality it was only 45

minutes), they finally ‘ask’ for the check. Their bill comes to a

whopping £200 (About 300 USD, which, as a 9 top table was still a

pretty large bill, but not all that surprising with how many drinks

and garlic bread refills they asked for.)

And then, there was the tip. I was hoping that, by some miracle, I’d

managed to give a good enough service that they’d at least somewhat

consider a large tip. No such luck. My tip? £1.50. Not even 1%. I was

furious. I’d been running around like a slave for them for 45 minutes,

and they didn’t even give me a 1% tip?

It’s tables like these that give me that little voice inside, which I

hate, that always says that a colored group will give me a bad tip.

It’s quite often proven wrong, but sometimes, it’s proven right.

If you don’t want to be stereotyped, don’t act like the stereotype,

please.

- Lizzie

Image via Wikipedia

Image via Wikipedia

After a rigorous work shift in which a man labors physically and

doesn’t earn the wage at which he feels valued, he can find solace

in only one thing. Well, two if you want to be technical: a shot and a

beer. Also known as a beer and a bump (although where I come from a

beer and a bump is a much different remedy.) Many call this cure a

boilermaker.

It is believed that the term boilermaker is in reference to the men

who built steamships in the 1830’s. After a hard days work, sweaty

and weary, these men would find their way to their local tavern, and

the local doctor would prescribe what he knew best. A shot and a

beer.

A shot and a beer. Simple and perfect. For the deed, I prefer whiskey

these days, chased with a watery lager. If the night is promising to

be an upbeat one, I’ll substitute in a shot of tequila. In various

regions the shot changes. Grand Marnier in DC, Jameson in New York,

Jack here, Jager there. Best to go with whatever the locals drink.

Anything with a proof around 80 will do. As for the beer, I like a

light, almost flavorless pilsner. I’m just using it as water anyway.

Something to give me the illusion of refreshment and hydration. A

palate cleanser to help me appreciate the shot.

There is alchemy being performed here between our humble shot and our

unassuming beer. The shot runs inward and warms to the core. The beer

washes over and cools. The majestic ebb and flow of life is revealed.

A certain magic engulfs the drinker.

The first shot and beer might not get you drunk, though if the day is

right, they could leave you with a blissful buzz. What the shot and

beer are sure to accomplish, in only an instant, is to cleanse you of

the day. The stresses, the pains, the worries, all wash away as that

sweet nectar flows down your throat. It is the reset button. It is

shaking the etch a sketch. It is the ferry ride from the work world to

the next. Whatever the cost of the shot and the beer, it is just your

payment to the ferryman. You are thankful to pay it and you tip the

man well.

You are now free to laugh at the troubles of your shift without

bringing up the rage they filled you with. You can talk about your

true passion without being suppressed by the dreariness of your daily

grind. You can look at that girl across the bar without the shame of

how you spent your day. You were emptied of your mundane degradation

the moment the shot glass clicked down hollow on that bar top. So go

ahead, give her a smile with a little smirk to it.

You are fresh. You are newborn and enjoying just being alive. Another

shot and another beer and you just might remember how perfect you

already are. You might remember how celestial a moment can be, and

that you are only in this moment. You might remember that right now is

all you need. You might remember that you spent your day working hard;

you gave the day all you had, and there is honor in that. You did your

job well, and today, that is enough.

Tomorrow it will be enough too. But you might not remember, at least

not until you have had your shot and your beer.

- Matt

I recently started working at a chain Italian restaurant about nine
months ago. It is my first serving job and i’m very grateful for it
being i’m the youngest there and had no experience. One night i got a
table that im sure every waiter has had before. The one were you know
its going to be a waste of your time and every other server takes it
upon themselves to point out your fucked. It was four black women, and
keep in mind i’m not racist in anyway however more then less the tip
will be less then generous. Maybe its the area the stores in or
whatever but its a well known fact throughout the store. The big
problem i had was i needed to make another 100 by the end of the night
to pay my car payment the next day. This was my last table and i was
expecting maybe a 10 dollar tip at the most. When it came time for the
check i had given up on the idea that i would make enough money and
began thinking of ways to push it off which was unrealistic. To my and
everyone else’s surprise they tipped me 12o dollars on a 100 check. I
don’t know if they made a mistake or if god gave me a miracle but i
like to think it was an act of kindness, something like i’ve never
seen. I never mentioned to these ladies that i needed to make 100, i
just served them like i did everyone else. All in all the point i’m
trying to make is you really shouldn’t judge or serve anyone
differently because regardless of skin color you never know a position
someone else is in and you gotta be grateful for everything you make.
Being a server with an underlying racist mind set is just immature and
wont get you far.

- Bill

I have a coworker who freaks out over spelling errors. Apparently I
spelled blue cheese wrong. I insist that I didn’t of course. “That’s
how it’s spelled! Look at the jug! I bet you any money it’s spelled
that way!” She slams the large plastic container down on the counter
in front of me. It read in big bold letters,”BLUE CHEESE”
Unbelievable!!!

- Speld Rong

I have worked as a server in a Greek restaurant, as well as a caterer
for the same restaurant. Out of both of these jobs, catering is by far
the most difficult and underappreciated job, and people have the
audacity to not tip (even though we have tip jars at the bars). Now I
know what you are probably thinking, “Why should I tip at a
wedding?” Let me explain by describing my most memorable catering
gig: it was a late July outdoor wedding reception in the south (103
degrees that day. The bride and groom were nuts). There were 175
guests, 4 servers, 1 bartender, and 1 food prep. The setup team (AKA
us servers) arrived three hours early (eleven AM) to set up all of the
guest tables and buffet stations, decorate the entire venue (our
company does everything from the food to the flowers) and start
setting up the food. Then the reception started and while the guests
were able to dip into the pool to stay cool, we had to keep walking
around serving food and clearing plates in our all black uniforms. The
guests were particularly nasty because of the heat (and seriously who
can blame them?) and kept us on our toes constantly refilling glasses
(again, can’t actually blame them). The reception lasted 4 hours
(until 6) and it started to cool down a tiny bit, so it was about 99
or 100. After the last guest left around 8 we were able to start
cleaning up, and we were packed up by ten, then had to drive an hour
back to the restaurant to wash all of the dishes and put away the
equipment. A kind soul left a 20$ tip which was divided between the
six of us, and all in all for that 14 hour day I made 104$. Which is
what I would have made working four hours at the restaurant. Go
figure. So to all my fellow servers out there: the next time you go to
a wedding, be a pal and slip the servers a couple bucks.

- Lannie

I work as a hostess at a chain seafood restaurant, and I love it. My
managers and co-workers are amazing, and for the most part my
customers are lovely people. My restaurant is a decent size for our
area, and can comfortably seat about 300 customers at a time. However,
as most of our seating consists of 4 top booths, we are very limited
on large party table space.

I was hosting a Wednesday lunch shift by myself, and we filled up
quickly, with my wait consistent at 10-15 minutes. Right at the peak
of my lunch service an adorable little old lady came in and asked me
how long the wait would be for 35 people. I honestly thought she was
joking. No such luck. I took a quick run around, and my manager
approved me giving servers additional tables (our servers are only
supposed to have three tables) and I quoted the lady 20 minutes. She
was very angry because her group was very hungry and it was outrageous
that they had to wait twenty whole minutes to be seated and they had
better all be at the same table because they refuse to be split and I
was obviously a terrible hostess. Moving on.

I pulled together 9 four person tables to accommodate them all, and
was able to seat them in ten minutes, not twenty. The lady who was
heading up the little outing obviously knows more about the restaurant
business than I do and explained to me that it was unacceptable that
her party had to wait 30 minutes to be seated (I had no idea that
12:25-12:35 was thirty minutes…she is so much wiser than me)
especially when they had been quotes 5 (…) and she would never eat
at this restaurant again. Fine by me…

After I got that party seated, another little old lady marched in and
informed me that she had a party of 10 that wanted to sit at a big
round table and the rest of her party would be arriving in twenty
minutes but she would like to be seated now. I explained to her that
it would be about twenty minutes before I would have a table
available, and to let me know when the whole party had arrived (policy
is that I cannot seat a party unless they are all present).
Well…”how dare you tell me when I can and cannot sit? This is an
office party for a DOCTORS office and I demand that I be treated with
the respect I deserve.” Wow. She demanded to speak to my manager,
and complained that my service was terrible and that I wasn’t doing
my job and that she expected her party’s meals to be comped. My
manager was trying so hard not to laugh that he was literally choking.

The rest of her party arrived and I had a large round table get up. It
took me a little while to buss it because there had been 5 small
children sitting there (pretty sure they all had crablegs) but I was
finally able to bring the lofty DOCTORS office party to their big
round table. Well, they don’t want THIS big round table, they want
the one directly across from it that is about six feet closer to the
bathroom. And is already seated with a table of 10. I explained to
them that it would be longer for that table because there was…oh I
don’t know…a party already at it. So the lady marched over to that
table and asked them how long until they would leave because this was
a DOCTORS office party. And somehow this became my fault and the party
of 10 started glaring at me. I got my manager over, but the party of
10 was already so mad that they just got up and left. Didn’t even
tip the server…like it was her fault.

Cleaned that table off, and seated the party of seven there, and went
back to the lobby just in time to witness a Coach bus pull up in
front. Apparently the service professional had neglected to relay to
my manager that a tour group of 45 would be dining with us.

- Lannie

Image via Wikipedia

I work at a high volume roof top bar/restaurant in a city famous for

it’s beautiful weather, historic charm and abundance of watering

holes. Needless to say we get insanely busy during the summer and

especially holiday weekends.

The Sunday night of Memorial Day weekend I was working the upper level

of the bar starting at 2pm. Before the bartender and the other server

and I were even done setting up we had a crowd of people waiting. Mind

you we also do not have a hostess, so there is nobody regulating where

and when customers sit. By sunset around 7:30 we were completely

slammed with customers waiting for tables and immediately sitting down

at dirty ones that had just been vacated. I was 9 tables deep when a

couple sat down at a recently vacated (and dirty) table with beers

they had gotten from the bar. Normally customers ordering bar drinks

then sitting at my table would annoy me, but on this particular night

I was actually relieved to have one less table available. Minutes

after they sit the woman impatiently waves her empty Miller Lite at

me, so I give her a nod of recognition and ring in another one.

Approximately 15 minutes go by with me running around trying to please

everyone in my section, then I look up to realize Miller Lite lady and

her husband nowhere to be found. I can deal with people being rude to

me, but a walkout is something I absolutely will not tolerate. So I

tell the other server to watch my tables and fly down 4 flights of

stairs to track down the couple.

I was able to find them walking out of the front door. I chase them

out and hand them their tab (which was only $4, but hell if I’m going

to pay for them walking out on me). After telling them that what

they’re doing is not only extremely rude but also illegal, the lady

responds “Well we haven’t seen you in 45 minutes.” Not only is this a

complete exaggeration but she is also being a total bitch and failing

to understand how busy we are. I say to her “I apologize for the poor

service but we are very busy tonight and I can’t be everywhere at

once. I understand if you don’t want to tip me, but please pay your

tab.” The husband then says “Yeah, we’re not tipping you. Do you have

change for a $10?” I reach into my book, hand him 6 ones, take his $10

and turn to get onto the elevator to take me back up to the bar. “You

have a good night!” The woman shouts at my back. I can’t take it

anymore. I lose it. So I did what any rational human being would do,

pop my head out the elevator doors and say “You do the f***ing same!”

The couple and the bouncers stare at me in horror.

I knew I could get in major trouble for speaking to a customer that

way, but damn it felt good. Of course the second the elevator doors

shut I burst into tears at my own misfortune, but it was almost worth

it to get to play the bad-ass for a few seconds.

Oh, and I walked with $320 that night, so suck it Miller Lite lady.

- Joanna