August 14, 2012 by Erin

Soliloquy

Blog Wars rules require each warrior to guest post at least once on each of the competition blogs. Today, I welcome Warrior Cory of A Multitude of Drops. I met Cory about a year ago now, when he was introduced to me as one half of “The Boys.” While initially just friends of my roommate, I’m happy to say I’ve bonded with both Cory and Dustin (the other “boy”) over Killer Bunnies, Josh Hutcherson, and now Gothic literature. Cory’s varied interests and his keen intelligence make him a worthy opponent, indeed. In a move that was either genius or cheap, he spoofed my earlier post, reminding us that airline employees aren’t the only ones who have it rough:

From 2006-2010, I was a “proud” employee of Beachy’s Country Chalet, a restaurant specializing in Swiss and Amish cuisine located in my hometown of Sugarcreek, Ohio. The food service industry is not exactly a family business (though I seem to remember one of my parents having a restaurant job as a high schooler), but we can go toe-to-toe with the best of them on the awesome/sarcastic scale. I kind of liked working at Beachy’s. The restaurant was at times a fun environment, my coworkers definitely were AWESOME, and I guess you could say that customers were easy enough to deal with … most of the time. Like when traveling, people tend to get, um, hostile/pissy/overly grumpy when they discern that something is wrong with the menu/their food/their waiter. It’s all right, I guess. At some point in his life, every man needs to clean up spilled chocolate milk that a vindictive three-year old knocked over while the brat’s parents pretend nothing happened or place sugar packets under an old lady’s table while she taps her foot impatiently because she SWEARS that it’s wobbly, right? Character building.

But I noticed a phenomenon that affects more than the idiots. (Yeah, you know that waiters call irrational, difficult customers idiots, right? There are some other choice words that are not appropriate for this classy blog as well. And FYI, if you come across as difficult or make a scene or “forget” to tip, you will be ridiculed in the kitchen. Loudly.) Somehow, customers tended to forget altogether that my crisp white shirt and creased black pants meant that I was not a cook, and as such, I did not cook the food. I always felt like when I approached a table and there was an issue to deal with, the customers assumed I was either out to get them or that I was somehow inept. (And I was NOT an inept waiter; in fact, I was a pretty damn good waiter, and that word is blog-appropriate because it describes my abilities perfectly.) People would literally not listen to anything I had to say until I offered them a discount/free meal or got a manager. Here’s how it felt:

I’m less of a person than you.
I’m a waiter. A faceless white shirt in your way.
(And black pants.)
Oh, and I do have a brain, but never mind that.
You don’t need to say “thank you” as I give you the bill,
Or treat me like a human when I ask
“And which side dishes would you like with that?”
After all, anybody can be a waiter. It’s mindless.
And your Amish Country guidebook really needs you.
So, please, I invite you to stand by the kitchen door and watch me as I talk to the cooks and tray your food.
It’s okay, because I’m
Just.
A.
Waiter.
An obstacle to your delicious meal.
If you cause a scene large enough,
Or use the magic words: “Where’s your manager?”
I’ll give you a big smile.
And I’ll
“Come again!”
Because, after that delicious meal with us, you know that any waiter is just
Part of the scenery.

Disclaimer: Not nearly all restaurant customers are jerks, and I really did appreciate your Beachy’s patronage, especially if you tipped me well.

Moral: Be kind when you eat out, and remember: restaurants are Godly places, too.

#Blog Wars 2012#Guest Posts