I don't like to talk about my flair.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005


Took a little over a week off to get settled into my new job. I'm broke, though, waiting for the first paycheck to be deposited, so I picked up a shift last night.

I am undoubtedly a better server when I'm not spending all my time at the resto. It's fun again! People don't piss me off so much!

Except table 11...and their behavior may be my biggest pet peeve regarding guests. They were the sort who regarded my presence as an intrusion. They seemed ticked that I had to actually speak to them to take their order. Oooh, my bad...I'm not psychic today. Asses.

Look, it's only polite to respond when someone asks you a question. Even if that person is just a lowly server. If I ask you how you'd like your steak cooked, don't sigh dramatically and hiss, "Medium!"

I try my best to read tables; if it seems they're there to talk and catch up, I'll do my best to be as unobtrusive as possible. But, damn, there are a few things I have to ask you. I'm required to stop by the table after the food is dropped and ask if everything's okay, and if I can get you anything else. Please do me the courtesy of answering, or at least somehow acknowledging the fact that I'm trying to talk to you. Pointedly ignoring me is crass and rude, and quite frankly you are showing how classless and clueless you are.

Now shut ya trap and eat ya food.