The Underwater Section

Let me preface this with a weather update. Arizona has been uncharacteristically flooded, wind-whipped, and pounded with snow in the last 48 hours. Why? Probably because I made the mistake three nights ago of telling a friend that AZ weather was "one thing I'd miss" when I move to NYC. Cue the 2-hour power outage. For real.

Recent tornado warnings and sideways rain did not stop my restaurant from seating walk-ins all over the patio. Our patio is screened in and scattered with heat lamps, but regardless, when you put Arizonans outside at 7pm in the middle of a hailstorm to eat their dinner, you are really asking a lot.

I walked in tonight and found out that my section was literally the last three tables on the outer edge of the patio... the tables with rain water pooling around the bases. Like, let's be serious, I left my snorkel and flippers at home today. Obviously no one was sitting there, and I watched the hostess trying to herd four or five parties over there before they'd all inevitably get skittish and run for cover. But can you blame them?

I finally got fed up and approached Dave with my situation, as politely as possible. I'm not one to second guess sections or complain about where I'm sat, but honestly the baby Training Section is one thing.... the Hurricane Section is another. He looked at me blankly. "Mm... yeah. True," he said finally. He's not a sarcastic guy. He was earnestly affirming my statement- acknowledging that my section was indeed in a state of emergency. "Ok so..." I trailed off, waiting for a little more. Anything! "I'll find out if any servers who got double-sat need to give away tables," would have worked. "We'll cut a little early tonight so you can take a few inside." Even: "Sorry about that, A, we'll put you somewhere good tomorrow."

Anything would have been better than what he finally said: "We'll I'm not going to do anything until 7:30 until all of our reservations have come in. Then maybe I'll make cuts or something." Which is code for... "I'll let all the other servers take what's on the books... Then on the off-chance that people come out tonight, mid-tornado, you can take them and stay late to do so." It was only 6pm.

"Dave, am I supposed to just do sidework for an hour and half before I have a chance at taking tables?" 6 o'clock and I was already feeling violated, a new low.

He looked at me like I had just stolen 20 bucks out of his pocket. "A, what's important is the guests, and helping other servers. Being part of a team. That's what matters." Now I'm no expert in leadership, but I do know enough to call bullshit. If you want me to show dedication to a team and a company as a whole (by running food and glassware for free for two hours), make me feel valued and taken care of as an employee. Don't leave me literally out in the cold.

How do you take your orders?

I don't mean table presence, phrasing, upselling. I mean literally, how do you take your orders?

In the first restaurant I worked in, it was a sign of weakness to write your orders down. If a manager saw you whip out a notepad he'd snap, in a thick accent, "What- you don't remember orders?" Like, calm down, it's a 6-top and they all want mods on their chicken salads. But god help you if you took orders without writing them down, and then messed up on something like dressing-on-side.

Where I work now, however, you must write down every order. If you don't, you're written up for carelessness. I've noticed though that no one takes notes the same way. Some servers have those old-fashioned notepads made specifically for servers, with spaces for "table", "seat", etc. Others scribble on scrap paper kept on the line. What they write down varies, too. Some people have come up with shorthand for everything, whereas others write down every letter. Some people draw out the seat numbers on the table the way they look:

2 ............. 3

1 ............. 4

And others just write the number with the order:

1- .............
2- ............
3- ............
4- ............

Some keep the pages for each table, others toss them as soon as they go into the computer.

I just wish we all had computerized pads synced to the computer system, to go to the kitchen while we're at our tables...

He's just not that into me.

"If he doesn't call, he doesn't want you" (to work in his restaurant). Correct? I don't get how it works in this business, because no one seems to know how to 1) Follow up, 2) Give a straight answer, or 3) Pick up the phone in the first place.

Background: A few months ago, I threatened (well, "threatened") to quit my restaurant and transfer to a higher-volume, faster-paced one in our restaurant group based on the fact that I was making $50/night. My manager, Dave, hesitantly approved the transfer, but he asked me to stay and see the restaurant through the holiday rush. I obliged, made decent money, and then (to Dave's surprise...) returned to the other restaurant after New Year's for another talk. My restaurant started scheduling me on all nights, closing and pre-closing shifts, which of course is The Perfect Schedule.... but the money still wasn't there. Recall that I need to be in NYC by September, and I can't move to NYC with empty pockets.

The manager at this new place- we'll call him Jay- assured me that everything was fine on his end, that he could streamline the training process for me and put me on nights quickly, and that he'd give Dave a call. Meanwhile he told me to follow up with him over the weekend.

First of all, he never called Dave.

Then, I tried calling Jay several times over the weekend and each time he was suspiciously out of the building or with a guest. I left a few messages with a few hostesses. I finally reached him when he happened to pick up the phone, and he told me that he was going to speak with the district manager the following day to get the final approval. He asked me to call then. Ok, great.

I called that afternoon, he wasn't there, left a message. Ditto the following day. I made a point with the hostess to have him call and leave a message on my phone because I had to go to work, explaining that he was in the process of transferring me but I hadn't been able to reach him in awhile.

No call.

Ok, um... I don't know what I should do. If he didn't want to hire me, he could have easily gotten away with, "Let me talk to the other managers and I'll give you a call," or "We don't typically take transfers." Instead it was, "Call me tomorrow afternoon," "Call me Sunday."

There's also the attachment issue with my own restaurant. I have friends there, I love the staff for the most part, and I've been there for almost seven months. I am well-versed in the food and wine on our menu. I get the best shifts and the best sections [So much for that. -1/22/10]. Is it worth leaving this to gamble on another place for my remaining four months here?

I think I'll try calling once more this afternoon, but after that, dunzo.

Attitude adjustment

One of my best friends here is a Super Server. One of those mysterious characters with a unbending dedication to service, she won't rest until each and every one of her guests is walking on clouds, exuding rays of light... and 20%+ in tips. I can always hear her laughing loudly at her tables, and when shifts are slow she's always engaging some table with her animated chatter and they eat it up. She has more regulars than Starbucks. She knows her stuff, too.

When I first started working there, we'd get into cocktail-induced spats over "steps of service" and our individual approaches to serving. I serve the way I like to be served: quickly, professionally, quietly. (Ideally a long mechanical arm would stretch across the floor and proffer my ahi at a predetermined time.) So I assume that this sentiment is shared, and I try to have minimal table presence, while ensuring that my guests have everything they need in order to eat and drink whatever it is they're paying for. My friend jokes that if I could take orders via text in the back I would. "You should just get their phone numbers from the host stand and do it that way." If only there were an app...

Honestly, I just don't care about my tables. I don't expect my servers to care much about me when I go out, beyond my tip, so I don't care about my guests. There are a few that are extra friendly, who seem legitimately appreciative of my service, or maybe a little bit lonely... and I do want to make those people happy. I don't mind chatting them up, ensuring everything is perfect for them, etc. But most tables? Yeah, no.

This is the difference between my Super Server friend and me. She loves making people happy, and this extends to all parts of her life. "I just want everyone to like me," she told me once bluntly. Every guest that walks in there is an opportunity for a human connection. The downside is that she really, really beats herself up when guests are rude to her, or god forbid just don't like her.

I think this year I need to learn from her a little bit, if only because there is a cash value to her attitude. If guests realize you're a human, they'll tip a human. I don't think I'll ever be the type of person who cares what everyone thinks of her. I'm extraordinarily picky about the people I like/love/respect/get close to, so the run-of-the-mill patron is not going to find her neon-legging-encased ass in that category. I do have an extraordinarily strong reaction to being patronized or chided, but beyond that, I let things fly.

But! I think if I become more open-minded with my tables, and give them an opportunity to make a connection with me, I might be surprised with the results. People here are different from where I grew up, and they have more time on their hands. One of my goals is to temporarily put my east coast snob-fest aside and try to connect better with the guests who want that connection.

The good news is that for those guests who don't like that approach... I still don't care.

With tip-pooling someone always drowns

You may be aware that last night was New Year's Eve.

You may also be aware that NYE is a big night for prix fixe menus, automatic gratuity, and server tip-pooling. And ok, since it's a new year and I'm trying to be more positive about my misadventures in serving, I will start off by saying that it was worth the long hours and I'd do it again.

Still, WTF. I grossed over $300 in tips last night, but because some servers failed to work it out there (and honestly, you don't have to really "work it" with auto-grat), I left with about $100. I know that several servers made under $100. What could they possibly have been doing? Popping champagne in the dish pit? Like, what? The only thing I can think of is that their sections were abnormally empty, which is a terrible system because they made the same $$ as the servers in the weeds.

But it's only one night so I'll quit complaining.

I have really good news, though. I can see again! I had a second eye surgery this week, and the double vision has been corrected. I am ecstatic!!

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and made lots of money last night.

Sidework!

What would serving be without the mounting piles of napkins to be folded, glasses to be polished, and coffee to be re-brewed? Don't forget the trash to be taken out, the checking presenters to be wiped, the bread to be warmed, and the salt and pepper shakers to be refilled.

It would just be... serving tables.

Sidework- and how effectively it gets done- can make or break a night in a restaurant. Polishing silverware isn't hard, but when we're in the middle of a rush and I need to be at my tables, the time it takes to painstakingly wipe down each spoon is a direct hit to my tips. If no one does it, though, we all go down. Flying through the kitchen realizing we're out of clean water glasses has pushed me over the edge more than once.

Unfortunately, guests aren't always receptive to seeing their server haul ice buckets across the floor when they're waiting to order another glass of wine. "Why are they doing that instead of taking care of us?" To guests, it often looks like a lack of prioritization. If they see their server speaking to another table, that's one thing, but if they see a server stacking bar glasses they feel ignored.

Therefore servers avoid sidework like the plague. And therefore we all suffer.

The problem is the necessity of teamwork in an environment that isn't always team-oriented. We're all trying to drive up our individual sales (and tips), pick up tables, and score the best sections. No one wants to pause to take out trash for the sake of ten other servers. What's the reward?

Does anyone work somewhere with a better system?

Merry Christmas Eve!

I'm tired, but things are looking up. :) My surgery is scheduled for next week, so (fingers crossed) I should be rid of this handicap in time for the new year. I have only four months left in Arizona. I'm getting closing shifts at the restaurant, which coincides perfectly with my schedule at the store. I'm spending Christmas Eve with friends and Christmas with family.

Happy holidays to everyone, and enjoy your day off!