#restau-rant

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This happened a while ago, but it stuck with me because my colleague, we’ll call him Kevin, was being so incredibly petty that I felt like jumping off a roof.

So you’ll need a bit of backstory for this.

Kevin once took me out for drinks. That was one month or so before this happened and it was a lot of fun. We talked until the bar closed, which was around 4am, and he even cycled home with me even though he had to go the opposite way.

We had been talking and flirting for a while prior to that and after that date, I mean I think it was a date, he didn’t reply to my texts anymore. Like, I just said good morning to him and he didn’t respond. I said good night and there was no reply. Before he would be the one to send me a wake-up text and a text when he went to bed.

So I think I said something wrong or something to suddenly make him dislike me. Because he dislikes me.

Now, to the actual story, I had a bar shift downstairs and he had a bar shift upstairs. We both had late shifts, so we had to close down together. The guests that were seated downstairs left earlier than the guests upstairs, so when I was done cleaning up downstairs, he was still busy.

The manager send me upstairs to help him and another colleague and I did. When I got upstairs, Kevin asked me to clean one table in particular. The only table that they didn’t take all the dirty plates off. And I said: “Ok, but I see you haven’t done the bar yet either, so I’ll do that first since [other colleague’s name] doesn’t know how to and you’re cleaning tables.” He agreed.

He is cleaning tables on the other side of the room and I am cleaning the bar. I keep looking at him a bit, because I’m curious why he didn’t contact me anymore, so I’m just daydreaming a bit and questioning myself why. And that’s when I see it.

Kevin takes some glasses and plates off a few tables and walks aROUND THE TABLE HE ASKED ME TO CLEAN BECAUSE WHY WOULDN’T YOU WHEN YOUR COLLEAGUE IS TRYING TO HELP YOU CLEAN UP?!

And then he does it again when he goes to clean the tables properly, but I hadn’t noticed that at the time.

So I think we are done, thinking he took up my table since I was doing all this other stuff that he could’ve done long before I came upstairs, and I ask him if we’re done. He looks me dead in the eye and says: “You still have to clean your table.”

Now, if this isn’t petty, then the next thing is.

The other colleague that was helping decides to help me clean the table real quick so that we’re done faster. While we’re doing that FUCKING KEVIN IS ALREADY DOWNSTAIRS, CHANGED, DRINKING AT THE BAR!

The other colleague and I get downstairs, get changed, and head to the bar. I sit down on top of the counter where we put the dirty glasses behind the bar and Kevin is sitting right in front of me on a bar stool. And I can’t help but glare at him angrily and he feels it. 

Eventually, he leaves early and the manager asks what that was and I tell them the whole story with the “date” thingy and they laugh so hard.

Today was a mess. It was a roller coaster from start to finish.

As I study hotelmanagement, I get to work in the restaurant/hotel my school runs. This week I am working in the kitchen. I have an early shift all week, so that means getting to school at 8am and leaving around 2pm. That basically means I wasn’t really awake when we started because I have to wake up at six to make it to school in time. We were making sandwiches and suddenly my classmate comes over to my work station and says: ‘Liz, there’s a deer.’ So of course I’m confused and don’t really get what she’s saying as I am barely awake, so I walk over to where she said the deer was and there it was. A dead deer hanging upside down on a rack. Apperantly it had been hit by a car that morning and they brought it to our school so the people who are learning to become chefs can learn how to -by lack of knowing a better word as I am not a native English speaker- slaughter animals correctly to make the most of the meat. Of course it’s cruel, but hey, at least they didn’t leave the deer to rot. Our instructor was very excited. He went to show the deer to every other instructor like a child with a new toy. It was amazing. During that day, the same classmate that told me about the deer was too freaked out by it to even consider going to the big fridge where we store veggies, produce, and some other things. Because that was where the deer was stored. So I made a lot of trips to the fridge today and we figured out that I was one of three that weren’t that bothered by the deer.

Then we were done, got changed, and walked to the busstop. Now, this was the best moment that day and it might be cruel that that was the best part of my day, but it was. It’s because yesterday we had a chef who is a student in the third year and he was such a freaking dumbass. He was slow, didn’t know what to do, and had no authority whatsoever.  Well this guy got hit by the side mirror of the bus because he was too stupid to realize people were taking a step back from the curb to not get hit. I was surprised he just got in.

In the bus I got into a conversation with an elderly lady. She told me the bus was late because some other elderly lady took 10 minutes to pay for her bus ticket, only to realize later that she had her bus pass in her pocket. She told me she’s glad she’s still with it, not like that woman. When we got to the train station I spotted the confused elderly woman. I went over and asked her if she was okay, because she looked quite distressed and lost. She told me, almost like she wasn’t really there, that she had to go really fast because she had an appointment. I looked up which bus she had to take, because she didn’t know which one to take, and escorted her to the right place. Then I stayed with her until the bus came and helped her get in. After that I went along and waited for my own bus, which I had missed because I was helping the woman.

Finally on my own bus, ready to get home and rest my feet that hurt so fucking bad because of those freaking special kitchen shoes. AND THEN HE TOOK A WRONG TURN SO I COULDN’T GET OUT AT MY STOP AND HAD TO WALK. Now walking isn’t too bad, but I was tired man.

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Hey waddup, it’s ya girl Liz, back with another wacky zappy rant.

Yesterday I had an early shift. Meaning I started at 15:00 and worked until closing. Now normally, you’d get to stop a little bit earlier than  the others because you would have been working longer... Yesterday that was not the case because it was just me and the assistant manager.

Now here’s the thing, he’s new. He hasn’t worked here for long and the very first time I worked with him he had been there a month and he kept getting tables and orders wrong. I think, after a month and several years of restaurant experience, you should be able to get those things right. But hey, that’s just my, very well balanced (because I sometimes work at other restaurants and manage to get orders and tables right with little to no error despite only working there for one evening and not knowing the restaurant at all), opinion. 

I didn’t put that in there to brag by the way, it’s just that I can’t understand how he still doesn’t get it. He has worked in another restaurant from the restaurant chain I work at for a year or so and has worked at very chique restaurants. I honestly don’t know if he just made that up or if it’s really true, because to me, he seems like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

So we were working. He asked me to watch the bar and walk the food. Good, fine, I can do that. He would manage the restaurant... Only he didn’t.

Okay, he did do most of the work he was supposed to do, but he also left a lot and he kept people waiting for so damn long. I decided to clean up some tables and get them on the next course, but he didn’t think I should do that because I was watching the kitchen and the bar... Has he ever heard of helping each other? You know, that thing where you do stuff together and make sure it all goes well TOGETHER. I guess not.

But hey, it went ok, so nothing to worry about.

Then it came to closing and this is the main reason I am writing this.

In the restaurant I work at, we all close together. Some stop a little earlier because otherwise it’d be too expensive for the restaurant, but most of the time they stay at the bar and end up helping a little bit as well. With mister ass manager, it was not the case.

When most of the guests were gone he just came to me and said: ‘hey, I’m leaving in a bit, you can handle this right?’ and I was just at a loss for words. There was a floormanager who was in the kitchen who was going to do the cash register, but I had to clean and close the whOLE FUCKING RESTAURANT. 

Okay, so, I had to go to a party after work and I told him that. He said it was ok, we would be done early. Guests were gone at 22:30, that’s ok, party isn’t really going yet. Then he just stopped working and I ended up working until twelve.

Thing is, if he’d just left right then and there I would’ve been content with it at some point, but he didn’t. He sat at the bar for A FULL HOUR WATCHING ME WORK. 

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Dear asswhipe,

Let me get one thing straight right away. I liked working in your restaurant for as long as it lasted, but not thanks to you. If it were only you, I would've quit weeks ago. Actually, all was well up until a few weeks ago which surprises me considering you hired someone I can work really well with when things went bad.

When her and I were working hard, you were whining that we didn't work well together. When we were playing around a little and guests were smiling at our interactions, you told us to stop fooling around and work even though there was nothing to do. When her and I were joking with the kitchen staff and cheering each other up after one of your fallouts, you came into the kitchen and started making harsh jokes about us.

My conclusion to that is that you actually don't want your restaurant to run well.

Do you know why I'm in the kitchen so much? Because you are no fun to be around and the kitchen staff actually cares for me. When it's busy, the chef asks me if I'm okay and I do the same for him.  You know, behind your selfish back, your staff cares for each other because there is a constant threat. That threat is you.

And I wouldn't mind these things if you were actually helping at work, but no, you're always drunk. You're always sitting down or saying you won't do anything for the remainder of the night. When the night came that it was just the two of us working a busy night and I was doing all of the work on my own, that's when I made my decision.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I want you to find this and hope this'll make you realize what an egocentric prick you are, but I know you'll never know this is about you.

Lowkey, I hope you fail before you can retire so you can finally learn something that you missed when you grew up, but I'm afraid it's too late. You're already too selfish and stupid to learn respect. Oh! And I am not your succes project. Just because I am going to do a hotel management study doesn't mean I become your protegé. The only person that ever learned me anything in this restaurant is the chef who gets paid like a normal cook even though he is clearly the chef.

Goodbye,

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Hello everyone, here I am, back at it again with another rant. This one will be pretty short and I can already tell you the gist of the story.

As a waitress, I am not here to raise your child. You have to do that yourself.

So last Thursday it was incredibly busy. We had 130 guests on a day that was normally pretty chill. I worked upstairs on my own with the occasional help of one of my co-workers. At first I only had a group of 18, which was fine, but then people started streaming in and I was running around like crazy.

Now there was this one table of seven. They came with seven even though they said they'd be with four. So that was fun. But anyway, this table was pretty chill at the start. The children were fooling around, the mother was dealing with the children, the dad creepily winked at me every time I walked past, grandma and grandma were doing fine. I took their order and they requested that their son would have his main dish with their starters. Fine, I can fix that for you. No problem.

The problem however, was that I couldn't fix it because I forgot to arrange it because I was so damn busy. Fine, not their problem, I know that, it's my own fault.

When they were already eating, the dad came up to me and got angry. He told me that I had forgotten the meal of his son and that I should arrange it that very second otherwise the child wouldn't eat. So I went downstairs, told the manager the problem, manager talked to the kitchen and went up to the dad to explain and apologize. She then came to me and told me he wasn't angry at all.  Of course he wasn't angry towards her, because she has more status at the restaurant.

Fast forward to when they're done with their main dishes.

I take everything away and ask the mom if I should leave the son's plate a little longer because he hadn't eaten much. Turns out, he hadn't eaten at all. And she told me, and I quote: 'I just want you to know that, because of your mistake, my son didn't eat. And I just find that very unprofessional.' And then she continued to say those exact things again a few times with different words. I simply apologized and went on with my work.

Now normally, I don't let this get to me, but these kids were absolute brads and the parents were even worse. 

They were playing in a room where a few carpets laid. A lot of glass has broken on those carpets over the years, so I told the kids it wasn't the best idea to sit down and play on the carpets with their bare hand and feet. I mean, glass shards, those small ones, hurt like motherfuckers and you can't get rid of them easily. So the kids left and I think they told their parents I told them to screw off because the parents didn't tip and looked at me angrily the whole time after that.

But also, back to the son, I DON'T HAVE TO RAISE YOUR FUCKING KID. IF HE DOESN'T EAT, IT'S NOT BECAUSE HE GOT HIS FOOD TOO LATE, IT'S BECAUSE YOU DON'T TELL HIM TO EAT. 

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Short story.

Last Tuesday we had a crazy big amount of people at the restaurant for the amount of people working. 

There were exactly 81 people there, two people in the actual restaurant, one manager, one bartender, and one person who walks out the food, which was me that night.

Now here’s the strange thing. The person who had a bar shift is the best at walking out the food. He can carry ten plates at once. I can carry four, but I am way better at making drinks. So I was a bit confused by this.

I come into work and it’s busy right away, because there is theater behind the restaurant and all these people have to leave at 20:15 and oh God it’s 18:00, get running right now.

From the very start I have to walk so fast. I don’t have time to clean the cutlery, I don’t have time to set up trey’s with fries and salad and all that, I didn’t even have time to tie my own shoes at one point. I just stuck them in my shoes and hoped for the best.

My colleague who had a bar shift, let’s call him CJ, came to help me, but ended up scolding me for not having my shit together every time he came into the kitchen. He was breathing down my neck the whole time and it was annoying me.

Normally I am not the one to say something about it, but it was annoying me so much and I was so busy so this was were our conversations during that night.

CJ: “Liz, you really have to set up treys.”

Me: “I know.”

CJ: “Liz, you have so many tickets here, why don’t you ask for help?”

Me: “I have been, but it’ll be fine.” (btw, it was fine. We didn’t get one complain that night.)

CJ: “Liz, I really do want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t set up treys.”

Me: “Then don’t help. Just let me do this.”

He left me alone after that, but I was quite confused when I thought back to it. Setting up a trey is two second work. You stick a spoon in the salad, put the fries on the trey, pump some mayo and boom, you’re done.

He had been standing around doing nothing for a bit, but I do have to say that he is a very hard worker. He’s a great guy, I can really laugh with him, but he just didn’t have his night and it was not a good night to have a bad night.

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Christmas is always chaos when you work in a restaurant, but at the same time it’s the most organized time ever. But things always go wrong on Christmas.

At one of the restaurants I work at, the bigger one, we have a very organized Christmas. We all come in at 14:00 and get everything ready for the day with everyone that has to work that day. We eat dinner together at 15:30 and open at 17:00. When we open, all the waiters line up at the door and the manager has all the guests walked over to their table by one of the waiters in line. When they’re all seated, they already have bread on the table and the special Christmas menu. The special Christmas menu is a limited version of our normal menu and you can’t choose your desert, because there’s only one desert available and it’s always ice-cream. You can’t eat dairy? Well, sucks to be you. (No, but really we do try to find a solution for you because we wouldn’t want you leaving unsatisfied.) When the first group of guests leave, we clean up quickly, set up again, and get ready for the second round.

I was assigned to a room upstairs that is secluded from the other guests. We had a group of around twenty people there. That’s easily doable on my own, considering that was my only table, so I went to help the others plenty of times. First round went great. Everything went well, the group was nice, nothing to worry about.  And then the second round came along.

It started with the fact that the group of the first round left a bit late. That gave me very little time to clean the tables. A colleague went to help me, but I was assigned to the bar the second round so I had to get over there. She said, don’t worry about it, you just do this quickly, I’ll take care of the bar.

She didn’t.

Well, she did, but she never has bar shifts so she just wasn’t quick enough. So when I was done with the tables and the first group was seated, I walk over to the bar and see a few tickets(?) laying there that had yet to be done. The one that was ordered first had a cup of tea on it and we don’t have a coffee machine upstairs, so I had to go downstairs. I get downstairs, make the tea, go upstairs, finish the ticket, walk it out.  The colleague that was supposed to help me is at a loss and another one comes to help me. Sarah.  Now, if Sarah helps you with a bar shift, you’ll be done faster than lightning. She’s just that quick. So I fly through my tickets and then I have to go downstairs again to get another drink that we don’t have upstairs. When I get upstairs I see Sarah talking to the assistant manager and I got so furious when I heard what they were saying.

It went like this:

Sarah: “Liz’s a little slow, I already got a few complaints that the drinks took so long.” Ass. Manager: “Okay.” Sarah: “I can take the bar shift if you’d like me to.” Ass. Manager: “Yeah, you do that. Liz, can you go back to the back room?” Liz: “Of course, why?” Ass. Manager: “Sarah is taking over the bar.”

I was fuming with anger.

I work three days in the week there, I worked so hard to get the bar back on track and now you’re telling me to do something else? Just when I got everything back in control? Get lost.

It took me half an hour to calm myself down and put on a smile again. I have a lot of bar shifts and I do my job well. I barely get any complaints, but when I suddenly get one or two complaints I can get the fuck out.

Thanks man.

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A few weeks ago, I went to get bubble tea with a friend in Rotterdam.

This was my first time getting bubble tea, but when I try something that has that many options for the first time, I tend to try something crazy.

Now I am obsessed with all Asian foods that are based on yogurt or milk(all the foods I know, that is.) I just really enjoy the taste. So when I saw “something milk something something,” I walk like YES. I want that. Sadly, the barista(if you call that a barista) didn’t agree.

Mind you, it was my first time there and I felt rushed because my friend had already ordered and this woman was waiting for me to order so that she could make both orders at once. So I told her what I wanted and asked her recommendation for the “bubbles.” She suggested one and then continued to ask me for a topping. I asked for her suggestion once again, because in my mind the barista of these places have to know the standard or best combinations. And of course, she asked if it was my first time there, because I acted a bit nervous. I said yes, because it was. She then continued to tell me that the flavor I chose was a “very Asian flavor” and I “probably wouldn’t like it” because it was a mixture of milk and sweet potato.

What I wanted to say was: “Okay, but I chose this, so do you want my money or not?” What I actually did was: nod and listen to her explanation further.

She explained to me, in a tone that made me feel like a child that’s being lectured for drawing on the walls, that I basically wouldn’t like it and told me to just follow the step by step menu. I nodded again and choose some things, but she never once thought: “Oh, she asked for my recommendation before, maybe I should help her out.” even though she saw me struggle.

I ended up with a teeth rotting sweet drink that I only drank because I was thirsty and because the bubbles pop in your mouth and it’s just so much fun.  But the actual taste was shit.

My friend told me after we left that that woman was the owner of the shop and told me she also thought she was acting mean towards me.

I might not be the best waitress the world has ever seen, but I’ll never lecture a guest like that. Why would you do that? It only scares people off.