Sunday, September 27, 2009

Karma is kicking my ass.

This week has been better. I worked 51 hours this last week... yes, fifty one hours in five days, that's roughly ten hours a day. Sad that I don't get over time, but at least I got good tips today.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Friday Flooding

Our Friday was just as any other. I did a double shift, so I was more than pleased when 5 came around so the other girls would give me something to do. We chitter, play cards, whatever. Tonight it was Boss and Nat. We were rather slow at first, as Friday night normally is. Then around 6 we got a nice rush. Well, Nat and Boss got a rush. I was in the back section, nobody wants that section.

I had one table, a four and a half (baby), and I got their drinks and food. I was getting a refill and mentioned how suddenly my feet were wet. "Who dropped an ice cube?"

Then I looked down and realized... we had sprung a leak Captain! The Pepsi machine had almost literally exploded and water was pouring out onto the tile floor and flooding over to the carpet! I called for Gentleman, who was soon on the phone with everyone he can think of. He calls Abel (who was on his way to the Greekery to eat.)

During this time my table is getting their food and needing drink refills. All with standing water in the kitchen and three people by the drink station (that was turned off!) I was cut and told to go home after I gave my table their check, so I didn't have to clean up that table either.

Oh, they fixed the machine. It works well now! No more leaking all over feet or filling bus tubs up with water.


Saturday, September 19, 2009

My tables need to go back to kindergarten!

So this last week has been rather quiet, save for a few nice tables. (Really? 1%? Aren't you CHARMING! Oh, asked for my number? Yeah... right.)

But I swear that all of my tables need to go back to kindergarten, where they are obviously slipping on teaching such things as basic manners.

  1. When someone says hello, how are you, you respond in a pleasant "Hello, I'm fine, and you?" Not "WATER! NO LEMON!" in a voice that they can hear in Tahiti.
  2. If I ask you a question, at least listen to it, I am trying to tell you what comes on our salads so you don't shriek when it comes out "Ewww! I DIDN'T WAAAANT CUCUMBER!" (I don't like them either. There's 2 there. Pick them off and shut up.)
  3. Please remember your please and thank yous. I know it's a small thing, but to me, it means a lot.
  4. Wait your turn. If I am with another table it normally means that I'm trying to do something above, such as ask them for any special requests on their salads, gyros, etc. This is -NOT- the time to start yelling and waving, or even worse... snapping at me. I will be around to you if you need something, a polite "oh Miss, excuse me but... (see rule #3)
  5. Ladies first. I am a strong believe that chivalry is dead and gone the way of the dodo. I see it everyday. I -always- address the lady first. I always give the lady her drink first. I always serve the lady first. It's the way that I have been trained. It's in my blood. So when I look at the lady at the table and say "Ma'am, ladies first... what can I get you to eat..." I really hate it when a guy at the table (or her date) interrupts me with a mispronounced "GYROS PLATTER!" I just look at the lady and sigh. -5.5 I also hate it when a man takes the ladies food. I am handing it to her, not to you. Don't grab and don't take what isn't yours.
  6. Push in your chairs. This is my everlasting and constant pet-peeve! I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. So far the only ones that actually pushed in their chairs were the children, and the Kindergarten Teacher.
  7. Please do not interrupt someone when they are speaking. Wait your turn.
  8. Don't grab things, don't take what isn't yours. This applies to the fact that at least once a day I will have someone grab something off my tray and cause me to almost overbalance. It's not the kids either. This is the reason I hate to use trays at all!
  9. Share. I mean this as... tip? You know, that line in the space of the credit card? That is how I stay warm, how I feed myself, how I could be clothing children and feeding them (you don't know.) You should leave me something. Hey, if I fucked up, be a man and tell me about it. Just don't silently stew and leave a small amount...
That is some reasons that my customers should head back to grade 0 and start over again.

Oh, but guy that came in loudly talking about sex... that wasn't called for. Your girlfriend was embarrassed, and then you called Gentleman the cook. He's the owner. Don't insult. Also... tip on a take out too asshat.

That also goes for Bomb. The guy that wants me to buy his book. I can't when you leave a slash through that tip line. Spare me an extra dollar for your Gyros to go... come on, I know you have money. You wrote a book and take an hour massage every Friday. I wish I could afford that. Hell, I wish I could afford gas in my car!

That is all for now. A Friday Flooding (not what you think) and a Saturday post coming up tomorrow.


Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Angry Letter

To Whom it May Concern (And you know who you are!)

I appreciate that you want to come over and hang out, and believe me, I mean that. I don't have many friends in this area and I enjoy the time I spend with all of them. (I prefer quality of friendships to quantity.) That being said...

*Don't Bullshit us. We know the real reason you two come over to hang out. We have internet here. You don't. You bring your laptops and set up shop and sit for hours upon hours upon hours (their record sits at three days.) Internet access is not free to us, so why should it be free to you?

* Don't Bullshit us. You call right as you are going to work and ask if your boyfriend can come over and 'hang out'. He's 22 years old and he shouldn't need a babysitter. Guilt trips will no longer work. You have stolen too much sleep from me over the last few weeks; which brings me to my next point.

* Respect. I do not live alone. Hell, I don't even live with just me and my boyfriend (as cool as that would be.) I have a first shift job. He has a third shift job, and on our days off we really don't mind if staying up late... but this being here until eight or nine in the morning or even staying up until five is not good for poor little B.P.'s day job.

* Respect. It's a term. So is common sense. Learn it. If someone says "Hey, other people in the house are trying to sleep or study... it means to shut your big mouth. I know I play the same game as your boyfriend, (who is the Loud One) and that it really is a loud game. That being said, I know better than to try to play it at 3:30 in the morning or later. Even with headphones on, it's loud. You scream and rage on top of that.

* Respect. I'd like to apologize to the decent people I live with at this moment. They've put up with you two 'coming over to hang out' for far, far too long.

Seriously, you come over (sometimes without warning me...) and then sit here and use our internet, use our power, use our water, eat our food, drink our sodas and then have the audacity to say that we don't do anything? Get off the laptops. You don't ask if you can do something, you just assume that you can use it. You have strained the relationships with the people that I have to share a house with and I pick them over you guys.

To the Loud One. Do not complain to me about your 18 hour a week job when I'm working at least 40, if not more. Do not complain to me about never having any money either. I will not buy your soda-coffee-cigarettes-food. While I'm on the subject, I think that it's rather low of you to depend upon your girlfriend for everything like you do, but this isn't the time or the place.

So, Girl. Here is the deal. You two can come over. I am setting a curfew. I have other shit I have to do on my few precious days off and babysitting (for no pay no less) is not one of them. If you two do not speak to me within an allotted time frame, you are to leave. If Boyfriend and I are trying to sleep, do not just sit there and continue to play your games. You are not allowed in my house after Midnight on nights that I work the next day, two on days that I don't work. You are not allowed to just drop your boyfriend off without compensation. Loud One... shut up. If you get too loud, I will talk to one of the housemates... you know, one of the TWO that are going to school for computers. We can block your ISP from our router. What would you do over here without internet? You'd probably just go and hang out at your favorite Free Wi-Fi spot.

You two have taken a lot from me, and given me nothing in return. You prey upon my Boyfriend's and I's inablitity to say no to those in need. You are good people at heart, I want to really believe it, but this has got to stop and stops now. No more fourteen hours of leeching off of our internet, no more coming over and not speaking to us for hours on end... no more plopping down in the middle of our bedroom floor to take up space (and hinder the cleaning) I was doing... no more trying to force me to play host when I'm not feeling all too hot.

We know that's you calling. We ignore it on purpose. Calling back three or four times in a row will not make us pick it up either.

Why don't you two stay in your borrowed apartment and pay for internet for once? You sure like to use it.

Love, and yet, no love.

(This has been a rant that has nothing to do with waiting tables at all, and I do hope that you understand that. If you are those two that the letter is directed to... then I'm not sorry. I've had too much shit piled on me lately to care right now. Maybe later.)

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Fun times...

Sitting with a friend at 5 in the morning, playing computer games and eating McDonald's breakfast.

I know, aren't I horrible?

Sunday, September 13, 2009

So I called in sick on Saturday. I made only 40 bucks on a double on Friday, and had a horrible night remembering someone I lost that evening. So I am going to go looking on Monday (tomorrow) for another job in the service industry.

I figured out today that college may be another year or two off for me, if it's at all possible. I really want to be a nurse someday, but that means one needs money and with a car payment, rent, food, and the like on the income I have now, that's not possible.

Let's try Hooters again! I hope I can get on there. It'd be nice.


Thursday, September 10, 2009


Ever have one of those days?

I couldn't even go home! I mean, seriously... let me have a split shift if we're that slow. I could have gone home, gotten a shower, grabbed a good lunch, taken a nap and been back in time for our dinner rush of all three tables.

I made half of what I normally do today, and that's including lunch and dinner, a double shift from the bowels of Hell. I had three tables for lunch and a total of six for dinner, plus two carry out orders. That's it, for eleven hours.

And to make it worse, I find out today that there is a Greek Festival in my area, so I can look at this weekend and only think about next week... when Motorcycle works a double on Tuesday and Thursday.

Bitch. Stole my Thursday. I love working doubles on Thursday. They are so much fun, slow, but you make a lot of money.

So this week was:

Tuesday: Open 10-5
Wednesday: Open 10-5
Thursday: Double 10-9
Friday: 10-9 (First cut, other girls come in at 5)
Saturday: 10-9 (First cut)

and next week will be...

Wednesday: 10-5
Friday: 5-9
Saturday: 10-9

That's a big difference. I know it'll feel good to sleep in, but it'll also be bad for the fact that I have bills due and no money for them.

Oh well. 11 hours down, 23 more to go!

34 in 72

Hours I will be working.

Off I go, because it's time to start this fun.

Fun hopefully equals money on my behalf. It probably means busy work for slave wages.


Wednesday, September 9, 2009


So other than the total 'wait, what' moment today and getting off work a half an hour early, it wasn't that bad at all. I did take notes and I had plenty of time to do so, seeing as we were a normal typical Wednesday afternoon...

Let's start. I get there at 10. I do all opening duties, which takes me about 20 minutes or so tops. We open at 11. So I scrub down all the table clothes extra well and clean the bathrooms too. Just to appear busy.

I get a feeling that this is going to be a 'bone' day. Gentleman told me when he hired me that there are bone days, and meat days. Everyone wants the meat days, but you have to take the bone days too. So I sit and start to clean our menus.

We open at 11. At 11:45 our first table arrives and they sit... and sit... and sit... and don't order anything other than their drinks. So at 12:10 they finally order and I get their salads and bread out to them in a few minutes. In the meantime, I have gotten a few other tables. (These guys don't see the 'please wait to be seated' sign and seat themselves... another irk.)

Our lunch rush today consisted of the following: From 12:15 to about 2.

3 Top
3 Top
2 Top
1 Top
2 Top
3 Top
1 Top
1 Take-Out

You are reading that correctly. The first 3 top was three businessmen, and I know this because after they ate, they sat there... until 2. Let them camp. I mean, I have twenty five tables plus a full bar in this place, if they want to sit and yammer on about the stars and the moon and the stock market, let them.

But as for their 9% tip? They can have that back. Obviously they need their 1.25 more than I do. Thanks. I got a 1.25 from two of them and a whole dollar from the third. They sat there, breathing my air, drinking my water and using up one of my tables (a prime table that seems to be a favorite of regulars, no less!)

After the rush I did dishes and cleaned the walls down and swept and mopped and all the other fun things that I get to do when we're dead as a doornail.

Three o'clock a two top come in. I just want to say thank you. This couple made my day so much better. They interrupted the de-greasing, which is hard on my hands... and they left me 13 and some change on a 37 dollar bill!

That was my last table of the entire day. Yes. This is a normal day for me.

Sometimes it's boring like this, other times I get my ass handed to me. The one good thing is that on Friday and Saturday we close at 9:30. This means I get out of work AT 9:30 on Friday and Saturday nights. Whooo!

Do more.

I have been hard at work as the only server at Greekery for the last few months, let's just say it's been about three (with their August break thrown in there.) I vacuum the rug, I scrub down everything with bleach water, I scrub the bathrooms, I wash the windows, I do the dishes, I dry and roll the silverware, I put dishes away, I get drinks, refills... I degrease the walls, degrease the chairs (with horrible industrial strength cleaner, I cut lemons, I get breads, I cash people out (sometimes), I clean out the ashtrays... I pour wine, I run food, I bus tables... EVERYTHING A RESTAURANT WORKER CAN DO!

I'm the only server there, and today Gentleman tells me before cashing out my credit card tips that I need to do more.



He wants me to start making salads and getting pita bread on the grill too.

Now I'm starting to see how some girls only make it a week or two in this place. I admit that I can do more, but if I'm working 11 hours a day at your hole in the wall, and it's 4:30 and I've done all the shit I need to do, cut me some slack please.

I'm only human.



The last few weeks, since Gentleman and Lady have returned from their yearly vacation, I've worked at LEAST 40 hours a week, if not more. Like this week, I'm scheduled to do a 7 on Tuesday, a 7 on Wednesday, a double (11) on Thursday, another double on Friday (11.5), and ANOTHER double on Saturday. (ALSO 11.5)

I love the hours, but my body doesn't. More stories tonight, then perhaps nothing for the next few days while I sleep-eat-work-work-work-eat-sleep-rinse-repeat.


Yes, we all have them, here are just a few of mine.

* Do not shake your water glass at me. I can plainly see that you need another refill, and yes, I am getting it for you. We're a small place and we refill the glasses that are on your table... believe it or not, this involves me actually taking your glass!

* I know you ladies need more bread, you told me three times. I'm the only server here, and there's ONE way into and out of the kitchen. You're sitting right next to it. Did you see me go back into the kitchen? No? Okay then.

* Entitlement Bitches. I don't know who you think you are, but this isn't a corporate place. You ask for water with extra lemons and you make your Ghetto-Ass Lemonade, I get to charge you full price. I also get to laugh at your expense when you try to yell at the OWNER (Gentleman) because he's the one that told me to do it!

* Don't hold up the check presenter. I told you three times to go up to the cash register and Gentleman will cash you out. I can't do it. Clicking your tongue at me, holding the check presenter and clearing your throat at me will not make it change the fact that I cannot touch the cash register. It makes you look dumb.

*Push in your chairs. I hate that.

* Why do you Entitlement Bitches (E.B. for future posts) always have to order two drinks? Why order a Diet Pepsi and a water if you aren't going to touch the water at all? It's just more work for me.

* Look, Miss 'Let Me See Your Manager'. This isn't a franchised place, Lady, Gentleman and myself are your staff, and guess what... your whole 'friends with the owner' ploy isn't going to work either, I charge everyone full price, even Cain and Abel, unless otherwise told by Lady or Gentleman.

* It's Greek. If I pronounce something differently than you, perhaps I'm trying to be subtle and tell you the correct way to say something, so that you don't look like a complete fool in front of your date there. Saying it again the same (wrong) way isn't going to change thousands of years of dialect and pronunciation. Say it again wrong, and you'll just look like a fool some more.

* Sir, I appreciate your 20% on 6.90, but realize that we aren't always the busiest of places, and that perhaps you and your lone Gyros and water may very well be my lunch rush... so please, most regulars leave at least 35%. Except the Doctor (later post), he leaves 50%.

* Don't come to a Greekery if you are only going to order the Cheeseburger. Spend your 5.75 at McDonalds... trust me on this one. We aren't known for our Cheeseburgers. We're known for our Gyros.

Shout out to Boyfriend and my buddy EMT!

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Meet the Greekeries!

There aren't that many I work with, it being a small privately owned little place.

From Tuesday at 10 to Friday at 5, there is only one server in the entire place. That is normally me from the hours of 10-5, with one of a hand full of working mothers coming in to replace me. I'm the 'day girl.' I get the lunch shifts.

Besides me, there are a few others that need to be mentioned.

Lady. I don't know what else to call her. She's married to Gentleman, and has been for 40 years. She's the 'cook' of the place, and runs a tight ship most of the time when Gentlemen goes off to do the things he does. She's a grandmother and loves to talk about her grandbabies.

Gentleman. This is my boss, and he owns the place, as he has since it's conception in 1984, I think it was. It's an old standing place, and has been around for so long most people know it by word of mouth. No, Gentleman is a true Greek. He doesn't advertise his place of business at all! He does the paperwork mostly, but he has been spotted waiting tables to help me, toting around bus tubs, and putting away clean dishes. He's done this for so long that this is his life.

Creepy. Creepy is Gentleman's brother, and he comes in on the weekends to help us (busser and dishwasher) and he comes in once during the week to mow the lawn and make sure the place outside looks presentable. I think that Creepy is older than Gentleman, but I'm not sure. Creepy got his lovely nickname when he gave me his phone number and asked me out one night.

Nat -She's one of the other girls that occasionally works, but she has children and another job, and a husband, so she only has a few extra shifts each week.

Lo - Lo is the big boss. She's been there for 8 years now, and has had 3 children. Lady calls her the Big Boss as a joke.

Motorcycle - My first night there, Motorcycle fell off her bike and hurt her leg, during training. So now she's called... naturally, Motorcycle.

There are a few others and I'm not sure what to say about them, but for now, let's leave it at this.

Lady and Gentlemen have two sons, let's call them Cain and Abel. Cain is the oldest and he's married and has two children, a boy and a girl. Abel comes in on really busy nights and helps cook and clean, he's single and has no children. (Much to Lady's dismay. She's always asking me if I know someone for him.)

Next post... rant ahead ahoy.
I've seen so many different blogs around the internet lately, so many of them are involving waitresses ranting about their day to day job, the thing that they do to put money in their pockets, food on the table, and either care for children or get their happy asses through college.

This will be another one of those. I cannot promise much, but I at least hope to be entertaining, if not a bit informative into the mind of a woman on the edge of sanity and playing hop-scotch. (Bad Freak On A Leash reference for us 90's kids.)

I will post a few blogs in the next few days about my job at a Greek restaurant, which I shall call the Greek-Eatery, or Greekery for short. I will not mention my home town, nor will I mention the name of the place in which I work. It is family owned, Mom-and-Pop, and a dying breed. I love it.

I hope that this will be an informative look into my life. I will also add in some other aspects of my life, be it sex love or dating, roommates or just plain rambles.