You may not recognize me because most of the time while I’m trying to talk to you, you’re on your phone, or just refusing to make eye contact with me. Sometimes, people forget that servers…are people. We may have a job that is often seen as menial or subservient, but I’m here to remind you that we do have feelings. Say please, and thank you, because over the course of my 12 hour shift, it goes a long way.
Every once in awhile, someone tells me I should get a real job.
Maybe I’m confused, but waiting tables takes skill, personality, intelligence, and an insane amount of patience. Furthermore, since I get paid to do it, I consider it a real job.
While we’re on the topic of getting paid, did you know that servers in some states of the US make as little as $2.13 an hour? Even here in Ontario, my minimum wage is significantly lower than the standard minimum wage. Some customers look at tipping as an option, but we servers look at tipping as a requirement. Don’t forget, I also need to ‘tip-out’ the busboys, the bartenders, the hosts, and the back of house kitchen staff.
And hey, listen. A verbal tip is really great, but 'You were a phenomenal server!’ is not a form of currency that my grocery store accepts. Sorry guys.
15 to 20 percent of your total bill is what we would like for a tip. Did we absolutely blow your mind with our service, going above and beyond? Then please feel free to reward us with a 20+ percent tip. Your generosity will not go unnoticed, rest assured. Was my service sufficient, but the food was less than perfect? I’ll do my best alongside my manager to remedy the situation, but when I give you the bill after the meal, don’t punish me for the shortcomings of my kitchen staff.
If you ask me for something and I forget to bring it (especially a refill on water, which we easily forget sometimes since it isn’t something we punch in) please don’t jump on my head about it. I may have simply had Other-Table-Syndrome, but trust me. The second I see your waiting face, I’ll know I’ve forgotten something and go running to grab it.
Ask me about a certain menu item, and I’ll tell you about it. My level of enthusiasm for the dish will match precisely how much I like it myself. This is not, however, an audition. Don’t tell me that I wasn’t very convincing about the chicken fingers.
Decaf coffee after the meal? Not a problem. Don’t ask me how I know it’s decaf though when I bring it to your table. Really? I made this coffee with a grind contained in a package labelled (wait for it) Decaf. That’s how I know.
Sometimes you want to come in and eat your meal in silence, without building any rapport with your server. This is totally cool. Maybe it was a long day, or maybe you just don’t like me because I have a shaved head and way too many piercings. Eitherway, when I come over to the table for the first time and ask how you’re doing today, do not respond with 'iced tea.’ This is not an answer to the question I posed.
Don’t make a quip about the clever slogan on the back of my uniform. Take your current age multiplied by one hundred, add the number of hours I’ve been working, divide by the smile I don’t give you after the joke, and then square the final figure. This is approximately the number of people who’ve made the joke before you.
Don’t ask me if a certain dish is 'gigantic’ or any other question about the serving size. Relative to what? I can’t give you an accurate answer. My response will be a series of poor, undefined hand motions attempting to illustrate my projected size of the dish, all while I mumble non-committal phrases like 'most people are satisfied’ and 'depends on…’
If you ever snap or whistle at me, you won’t see me at your table again for another 5 minutes minimum. However, I will serve tables around you with a smile.
When you’ve finished your meal and paid your bill, I invite you to sit and finish your drink or your piece of cheesecake. Stay for a few moments after, even. But please, don’t sit there for an hour after your meal. As a server I’m assigned a certain number of tables, and I need them to rotate every hour to make any decent money. When you sit in my table all night, that’s one less table I’m making money on.
Also, last call is at 2:00, or earlier if the bartender deems it so (he or she will announce it for you). I’m totally cool with you telling me ahead of time to order a fresh beer right before last call. I’ll do it, no problem. Don’t harass me at 2:01 though about the fact that you can’t order alcohol because I wasn’t around. I’m willing to bet my tips for the night that I was around your table moments before last call, asking if you needed a final drink.
Also, why do you some of you look at me like I’m an alien when I crouch beside your table so that I’m not towering above you? Would you rather I stood 2 feet back, standing tall, so that you had to crane your neck upwards to see me? Think about it, crouching is more personal, you won’t need to raise your voice to talk to me, and I’m less likely to mishear your order.
If you don’t like your food, don’t eat it. Tell me, and we’ll get you something else. Don’t finish it and then tell my manager and I that you absolutely hated it.
Oh, I get that my life may seem glamorous, what with my fancy black uniform and jet set hours and all that cash (insert hard-to-convey-in-text sarcasm), but when you look a little closer, you’ll see chipotle mayo stains, and sleep deprivation from closing the restaurant one night and then opening it the next day. That huge wad of cash you see tucked safely into my billfold? I’ll be giving 97% of that back to my restaurant, that’s definitely not all my tip money.
When you go to the restaurant this Christmas season, remember a few things. Acknowledge your server. Talk to us, don’t point to things and silently raise your glass for a refill. I do understand English, especially the words please and thank you. Appreciate that we’re working this night so that you can share a meal with your loved ones. Of course we’d rather be at home laughing over wine and good food with our family tonight, but we chose to work so that (fingers crossed) we can perhaps get New Years Eve off, or a few days in the new year.
Tell me 'thank you’, because I really do want you to have a good time in my section. Most of the time, we really like you! Oh but, do keep your kids in their seats. I’d hate to drop the pint of Stella off my tray and into your lap because little Johnny decided to sprint haphazardly through my aisle.
Your server, whose name you either didn’t remember, or didn’t know because I never write it on the table paper.
dailybridgerton
dededos
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
janainaart
blakekathryn
pixelskylines
jacobvanloon
gummygunk
