I work in a Chinese restaurant. I love my co-workers, but hardly any of
them speak English very well. Most servers don’t last long there
because if you don’t get down what my arch nemesis co-worker (who’s
worked there 20+ yrs) calls “pigeon talk”, you can’t communicate with
the cooks, manager, or other staff. I, however, grew up in a
non-English-speaking-household, so I KNOW “pigeon talk”… cut all
your statements down to the bare minimum of words, speak slowly, use
the present tense for everything you say, and watch their face to see
if you’re actually being understood. Easy breezy.

So one night I get seated a table of 6 college students, two of which
are Asian but speak impeccable English… obviously Americans of Asian
descent. The table is going fine, they order, eat, etc. I go to clear
their plates and as usual politely approach each customer and ask “Are
you finished with that?” before I take their plate away.

I get to the first Asian young man. “You finish?” I ask, looking him
right in the eye. “You no eat?” I continue, pointing my finger at his
plate. Ooops…

Fuck me, I’m an asshole.

- At Your Service

I waited on a group of 6 adults and 9 kids. The restaurant was
extremely busy and we had to seat the group in the “event” room. This
requires me to give up my floor tables until the room is taken care
of. I come to one young man of about 9. He asked me if there is egg in
the batter on the chicken tenders, being busy I answered that I didn’t
know but I would imagine there was. He was like can you check I’m
allergic to eggs. So I reluctantly go check with the kitchen. Our head
cook is also the owner and he can be very gruff, and I am slightly
intimidated by him. I stick my head in the door and ask the question.
He looks at me like I’m crazy says he doesn’t know but he thinks there
is. So I go back and tell the kid, he looks so disappointed. But I’m
wanting to get this group taken care of so I can get back on the floor
and make some money. So I’m getting ready to try and talk the kid into
something else when his mother comes over and tells me she would like
the cook to check the ingredients on the box to see if eggs are used.
She must have seen the panic in my eyes and followed me to the kitchen
door. The boss stopped what he was doing got the box from the freezer
and checked the ingredients in front of the mother. It had eggs as we
thought. She then tells me that she use to just accept the answer we
don’t know but we think, of being brushed off because the rest. was
busy. But after seeing your child being disappointed over and over and
realizing that sometimes the help is wrong she demands they check.
Something about this Mothers determination for her son impressed me. I
hugged her and told her as much. she remains one of the best mothers
ever in my eyes. Plus the group made the time worth my while by
tipping about 25.00. Not bad.
- Bullwinkle

I work in a very small restaurant with only 2 other waiters, and one
of those waiters is my arch nemesis. I hate him with a fiery passion,
but have to deal with him. He covers the dinner shift alone every
Sunday night… but consistently calls out and/or asks me to work for
him Sundays. Because let’s face it: most Sunday nights suck for tips.

I decided to work for him one Sunday (even though I usually don’t try
to do him any favors, just to spite him). I was bored and figured I
could use a little extra cash. Even if I only made $20, it’d be worth
it.

I get there at 5 pm. I wait on 2 tables by 6 pm. One of them stiffs
me. The other, a single, leaves me $2. I leave at 6:30 fairly annoyed
at my luck and my $2 in tips, kicking myself for the bad luck I spared
my arch nemesis by taking his shift.

The next night, my usual Monday dinner shift alone, I make a whopping
$20 in tips. I leave, once again early and annoyed at my crappy tips.

When I get home my husband asks how work was. I answer: “Pretty good!
I made 10 times more than I did last night!”
-At Your Service

The other day I had a lady order my restaurant’s Pasta Fajule soup. Keep in mind, it is called PASTA Fajule. So this lady says that it sounds so good and that she can’t wait to try it. I drop off the soup and go and start another table. As I walk by this lady flags me down and says, “There is to much pasta in this soup!” All I could do was smile and say, “Well, it is called Pasta Fajule.”

- Matt

My restaurant is in the middle of a crazy rush. I must have 8 tables, one being a party of 12. Of course, people just keep pouring in through the door expecting fast service. The hostess seats with me a party of 2 right next to my big party. The big party gets ice cream included in their meal, my favorite. As I am taking the order for the ice cream, I stop by the new table and tell the man and woman that I will be with them in a second, and that the hostess will get their drinks started for them. As I am passing out all of these ice creams, running my ass off, I watch as the hostess gets their drinks (2 waters) and gives them some bread to munch on. I return to their table no more than 5 minutes since they have been seated and ask how they are doing. “Hungry.” says the woman in a sarcastic and bitchy tone. Great they are pissed. I get their order put in, (the lady only orders a salad, she must be starving) and the guy gets chicken or something. I check back with them but they haven’t touched their waters or bread and say that they don’t need anything. Keep in mind that they have a front row seat to watch me scurry around the restaurant with all my other tables. Their food is ready really quick and I drop it off and ask if there is anything else I can get for them. They do not respond and just look at me like I am an asshole so I leave. By the end of their meal they still have not touched their drinks and they do not need boxes. I drop the check and then watch as the man goes over to talk to my manager. I couldn’t believe it. He actually complained that the hostess (who got them everything they needed right away while they were waiting) was very rude to them and that I was “the most inattentive waiter he had ever seen”. Then he stiffed me. Haha! What the hell do you want me to do when you don’t drink your water or touch your fucking bread??? That was the best service you ever got in your life dick!

- Mr. Inattentive

The restaurant that I work at has this really obnoxious older man that comes in with his wife almost every day. She is really nice and he is completely out of control. Every time they sit down he makes his way to the bar and “discreetly” drinks wine. He gets a separate check and everything. He then wonders back to his poor wife as if nothing has happened, hootin and hollerin at everybody that passes by. One night I was blessed with the lovely gentleman (for about the 3rd time in a row). He was relatively well behaved (only one secret glass of wine) and orders his meal without a fuss. The salad course is uneventful and it is now time for the main course. As I approach the table with their plates I discover that he is on the phone, and sounding extremely polite. “Yes this message is for John. Hey John its Bill and Betty from church and I just wanted to say thank you so much and if you could please give us a call when you get a chance that would be great and god bless and BLAH BLAH BLAH!” CLICK. Yes, he actually said BLAH BLAH BLAH and hung up, right in the middle of his really nice message. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I set down his plate and ask him if he would like any cheese grated on top. “I don’t want any of that crap!” he yells. “Right. Enjoy your meal.” “Oh thanks so much bro, we really appreciate the great service. You take such good care of us man”.  The guy is ridiculous.

- B

I own a restaurant. I believe it would be considered a dive. Not fancy, small, lots of regulars, and I wait tables. We are located in a small town that is perceived by most to be full of rich people. Consequently, we have to deal with the occassional pre-madonna.

We had a famous chef come in one day. I was so excited that while on a delivery, I was telling my customer all about it. One of his customers overheard and a little while later, she and her (much younger) husband were at my shop.

They ordered and then told me all about how she had so much money and a mansion that she lost in a storm. Now she and her new husband were struggling to deal with living in a 4 bedroom townhome near the beach. She was slightly dramatic but that made her story very colorful. I listened and felt bad for what they had been through. I have family that lost almost everything in the same storm.

They were paying their bill and she was complimenting our food and our conversation. I was thanking them for their visit and she said, “Well, when I get back to the hotel, I’m going to let them know that we went slumming and found that you are a gem!”

LOL I thanked her for her kindness and remain completely amused that someone would think that “going slumming” can be made a compliment. LOL

- Monica

Today a lady came into the restaurant who I had been led to believe was deaf. Her and her friend always come in to get to-go orders and I had never heard her say anything before. Today she was by herself. I started asking her what her order was and what kind of toppings she wanted on her pizza with hand gestures and by pointing at the menu. I then noticed that she was also reading my lips. I felt weird talking out loud to a person who was reading my lips, so for some reason I just started mouthing the words I was saying. After about a minute of this the lady pulls out a piece of paper, scribbles something quickly on it with a pen, and slides it to me across the counter top. I look down to read it and my jaw drops. “I CAN HEAR”. I am an asshole.

- M

Today at work a woman flagged me down next to the bathroom and asked to speak with my manager. I went to my manager, let him know and watched as the woman beckoned him into the women’s restroom. A few minutes later my manager came out of the restroom with an odd look on his face and asked two of our bussers to go back in with him. A few minutes after that the woman came out of the restroom looking victorious, while the three men come out looking sick. I asked them what had happened and apparently mid-ass wipe this woman had lost her gold bracelet in the toilet. Her golden treasure had become lodged in a mountain of doody and toilet paper. She felt it neccessary to get the manager and demand he retrieve it for her with no shame at all about the toilet full of doo-doo. My manager had two of our bussers fashion a clothes hanger into a doo-doo fishing rod and try to hook the golden bracelet. They finally succeeded and quickly left the scene of the crime before they lost their lunch. The woman finally returned to her table of friends, but not before she safely secured the doo doo bracelet on her wrist.

-Megan

I wake up at 8:30 and shower and shave while I’m still half asleep.
Didn’t sleep worth a fuck last night because I’m staying with a good
friend until I can afford to get on my own feet, and that means I
sleep on a hardwood floor each night. I rush out the door with soaking
wet hair into the 14-degree weather. Five minutes waiting at the bus
stop and my ponytail is already frozen hard, literally. Get to work at
my scheduled time of 9:30, not a second late, because I’m obsessive
about being a punctual person. No one’s there. The restaurant opens in
an hour and a half, and there is absolutely no one inside right now.
Lights off, doors locked, it’s freezing out here, where is the
cleaning crew? Where is the chef? Where is the dishwasher, the host,
WHERE THE FUCK IS MANAGEMENT?? Nice to see they appreciate punctual
employees. After waiting in the cold for half an hour (because I don’t
have enough money for bus fare back home) I call the floor manager,
who was asleep, and he calls the owner. Owner is inside the building
and opens the doors for me, thank god I’m not out in that cold
anymore. (What the hell was he doing for half an hour with the lights
off and the doors locked when he knows we’re supposed to be opening
the restaurant?) I set the stations up and wait for customers…..and
wait for customers…..and wait for customers. Get one table, one guy,
orders a sandwich and a coke. Leaves me one dollar and fifty cents for
a tip. No one else shows up for the rest of my shift, so the floor
manager says I can go home. Awesome, except a dollar-fifty won’t cover
my bus fare home. So I clock out and run my checkout, and as I’m
signing it a four-top walks in. The bartender gets the one that just
barely got away from me. Fuck it, I’m working this evening, I’ll make
up for it then. Walk for 40 minutes to get home (did I mention it’s 14
degrees outside?) and grab some food, take a nap. Get a ride from my
roomie back to work at 6, and sit around for another two
hours….with….not….one….table. Management says, “Go ahead and
clock out, we’re not getting any business tonight. Sorry about the
deadbeat day.”

I worked for 8 hours today and made $1.50. What the fuck am I waiting
for again?

- Broke As Hell