gin and bare it: waiting in real life

things you should know about your server and what they're probably thinking.

1. the less we have to talk to you the better.

if i had a dollar for every time i had to stand at a table with an armload full of dishes listening to people talk about their lives i would have at least $100. i'm sorry sir/ma'am - but you are virtually a stranger to me and i could not give less fucks about what's going on in your life. i'm here to drop off your food and then maybe check on you one more time. do you want more booze? i can make that happen. otherwise - let's keep the chatter to a minimum.

2. you are not a pig and this is not a trough.

it's absolutely atrocious the way some adults eat. you could not have MADE a bigger mess. there could not be MORE soy sauce soaking the tablecloth. and i'm sorry but how did so much of your meal end up on the floor. this makes zero sense. seriously - did you eat anything? i would also rather you not acknowledge the mess. i don't know what's worse. that you somehow think it's appropriate to eat in this manner or to joke about it afterwards.

3. your jokes don't pay my bills. nor do your coupons.

fun fact: the people that are jokey mcjokerson with you and the ones that you think you have a great repoire with are the ones that leave the shittiest of tips. it's like they magically think that in a matter of an hour you've forged a meaningful relationship and that either that killer joke they just dropped on you or the fact that you should just really like them by now means they don't have to leave you a decent tip. fun fact: my pal john mayer once waited on a table of regulars. and when all was said and done they left him a $5 tip on a $100 bill and some BOGO coupons to culvers. really you cheap skanks?

4. order dessert and i will go ballistic in the back.

it never fails that people decide to order dessert at the most inopportune time during service. i might be the only server that doesn't care that it will up the bill and maybe get me more of a tip. i just want you gone. because in the middle of having to bring you a piece of fucking triple chocolate cake i probably have to drop off six drink orders, split a check, and pretend to enjoy a joke.

via

5. referring to yourself in the third person is not cute.

any server will tell you that the worst season to be a server is high school dance season. it's the most horrifying time of the year and it happen three times a year; homecoming, the girls ask the guys dance, and prom. it usually means you get a giant group of high school kids that all order waters, MAYBE an appetizer, and then ask for thirty-seven split checks. it's a nightmare. even worse when high school students think it's cute to refer to themselves in the third person.
just recently i had the joy of waiting on a young lady who insisted on referring to herself as michelle obama in the third person. things like "uhhhh michelle obama would like another diet coke!" as she so helpfully held her glass in the air and jingled it around so the clinking of the ice cubes would get my attention. or "michelle obama needs her check now!" i can honestly say that it's the first time i ever came so close to punching the first lady in the face.

6. just because you bring your child to a restaurant doesn't automatically mean this is a daycare.

control your child. teach them how to behave in a public place. this restaurant isn't a jungle gym. they shouldn't be sitting at the bar because it takes up a seat for someone who will buy drinks and tip the bartender. i don't want to run back and forth to get your child cherries on a tiny sword. if your child is underfoot and i'm carrying a large, extremely heavy tray of food containing knives and also bowls of hot curry i won't even feel bad if it falls on them. and don't test me. i will hang your child on the coat rack. if i had a bucket list that exact thing would be on there.

7. don't be a dick.

if you've ever served then you're with me on this. limit the amount of trips i have to make back to your large table by maybe taking stock of your cocktail when someone else is ordering their new one. having to make ten separate trips for each person after they've ordered their drinks is a pain in my ass. less trips = i don't have to talk to you = shannon is a happy-ish camper. also remember to be patient. if i'm running around like a lunatic it's obviously for a reason. you are not the only person i'm waiting on in this restaurant. and please know that the faster you eat, drink, pay, tip, and the GTFO the better for everyone involved.

know that i will like you if you leave me things like this: