Sometimes you just have to do it yourself.

Over the past couple of months, theres been a couple of our cocktail staff that pretty much refuse to do anything at all for sidework. “K” and “T”. I can’t give names, anonymity and all, but let’s just say, they are horrendous when it comes to sidework and running sidework.

Any of you readers who have worked as servers or anything else in the restaurant industry, know that sidework is a part of the job, whether we like it or not. Now at my job, at least in my department, our sidework is basically nothing. We roll silverware…a staple of serving. We stock, clean, and reset our stations, and our server stations. Again…a staple. My question is : WHY DO THESE PEOPLE THINK THEY”RE BETTER THAN DOING SIDEWORK? We all have to do it, whether we’re closing and the ones who assign it, then get stuck with the extra, or we’re the early out people who have to do it so the closers don’t. I’ve been in the restaurant industry for over a decade now. I don’t particularly like to roll silverware, but I do it because it’s part of my job. I don’t particularly enjoy cleaning my tables, but I do it because it’s part of my job. I don’t particularly get turned on by stocking my sugar caddies and salt/pepper shakers, but I do it, because it’s part of my job.

The two servers in question don’t think they have to do any kind of work whatsoever, besides standing with their arms crossed bitching about how they’re not making money, whilst they ignore their tables and refuse to help anyone out. Why either of those people still have jobs is beyond me.

I ended up rolling a bin of silverware tonight just so I wouldn’t have to listen to “K” whine about it as he/she (once again, anonymity for those who read my blog) always tends to do. This person nicked their finger on a knife a few weeks ago while sorting silverware, and has been scared to do it ever since. The finger didn’t even bleed. The server was sent home in agony. Maybe one of you in the mediblog industry had this person come to your ER for their hurt finger!

On a much lighter note, other than the sidework, I actually had a great night. I got my ass kicked for a bit, but I didn’t really have many rude or obnoxious guests sitting in my section. Had a couple toward the end who decided they were too good to tip after running me like a dog, and just staring at me like i was a weird looking lesion. I get that I’m not all that pretty, but I’m also not trying to impress a couple of lesbians either. Damn dykes, giving us homosexuals bad reps for tipping. We generally tip pretty damn well, specially those of us in the service industry. But these two were just…..dour? No, not the right word. Maybe snobbish. Anyway, they just were not fun at all, and didn’t talk to me. Pointed at the menu, and didn’t tip. Oh well. I had some people who really made up for it.

I had two awesome ladies in tonight, who sat for about an hour and a half, two hours or so. I sat with them as they drank, had them both giggling. They were both pushing about 40 or so, and I have a way with making those women feel special, especially when they come in looking like someone just flayed their cat alive like they did. By the time they left tonight, they were laughing, smiling, and giving me hugs as they walked out the door. 15 on 70 between the two of them wasn’t a bad tip either. Not the greatest I’ve ever gotten, but the fun I had with them made it worth it. I did end up doing pretty well with my tips tonight, so I left happy.

To the two ladies who made my night, thank you. I really hope you were honest about coming back and seeing me, because ya’ll put me in a great mood. You both know who you are, because I gave you both the address =).

To the bartender that lost my ticket and claimed you didn’t pull it: drink some coffee, stop running your mouth, and work. Don’t deny pulling the ticket and not making the drink just because you lost it, that’s just rude.

To everyone else, have a great day, and remember, it’s Sunday now, there’s always good shit for me to write about after a sunday night shift.

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