Making Reservations

Well seeing as I’m having issues getting the entirety of the old posts online, I figured it was time to start making some new posts on here, and after hopping onto one of my favorite server sites these days, If You Can’t Afford to Tip, I saw something that was a great starting off point.

I’m confused. My wife and I had a short notice opportunity to eat out at a favorite restaurant. She called and easily got a reservation for 7:30 PM, two hours hence.

When we arrived the restaurant was running a little late but we were told we would be seated ASAP. I understood and we waited. Meanwhile, a couple of other parties entered the restaurant and were seated before us.

When I asked the hostess when those parties had reservations, I was told 7:30 PM, the same as me. When I questioned her why they were seated first, she stated it was because they had made their reservations two weeks prior.

Now, I could understand if we had arrived at the same time that they should get the first seating, but we were first. Am I wrong in being upset or is this normal practice?

(Submitted Anonymously)

Now I’m not going to go into all of the comments people left there so far, but here’s the link because some of them are pretty good (including mine!). I am going to explain some things that might make some diners out there a little less..hateful and bitchy.

First, I want to point out that what Mrs. Anonymous had was not a reservation, something a lot of you people out there need to realize. Calling a restaurant a couple of hours before you want to eat and having them take your name down just gives you a better shot at getting a table if the restaurant is busy. It’s damn sure not a guarantee. Mrs. Anonymous did what’s called a Call Ahead. I know that might seem like you’ve got a guaranteed table when you and your wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, husband, or hooker get there but all a Call Ahead does is let you know that they’re gonna try and have you a table.

Reservations in most restaurants, at least for small to semi-small groups, in most restaurants have to be made 48+ hours in advance in order for the guests to have a guaranteed table. When making a reservation, the host(ess)/manager/unlucky server who happened to answer the phone, will usually take down the basics: Name, phone number where you can be reached, number of guests, and time. Managers will always explain the restaurants policy on reservations when taking one, but many hosts and hostesses don’t because a lot of times they just don’t wanna  go through all that talking. One of the things that tends to get left out when it’s not a manager explaining the policy is that even though your reservation is made, you have a responsibility to be on time, or within 15-20 minutes if you don’t want to risk losing that table to other guests. It’d be nice if just making a reservation was a total guarantee of a table but unless you’re somebody famous, they’re not gonna hold the table for you if you’re taking your sweet ass time.

If you’re making a reservation for a larger party, by larger I mean large enough to take up more than a couple of tables, the restaurant can be a little more anal about it while at the same time being a little more lenient. For one thing, there’s often a larger grace period for being late. Sometimes the restaurant will want a monetary deposit, which is understandable if it’s a party that’s going to potentially take up 3-4 or more tables, especially if they take forever getting there, or don’t show up at all. At least then the restaurant can still make a dime.

Something a lot of you tend to forget is the server. First, the table or tables for your reservation have to be held, meaning that until you and your group arrive, no more tables for them. If you’ve made a reservation for a group of 6, and the server only has a 3 table section, those tables are closed until the group arrives, cutting into our money. Some restaurants contribute to the assholery and will not even open those tables, which helps to fuck us. What I’m getting at here is if you make a reservation for enough people that the server has to close more than one table and you know not all of your group is going to come, call and let the restaurant know so whoever your server is can reopen that table. If you’re going to be late, call the damn restaurant and let them know. Keep the lines of communication open.

Now, let’s get to something that really pisses me off. Some people, when they make reservations (especially at fancy, hard to get into places) tend to think that because they managed to get an actual reservation at that place it makes them some kind of hot shit, shit who’s shit smells like roses. Let me tell you now, having a reservation doesn’t make you special, it just means you got lucky when you called; don’t be a dick to your server.

Reservations can tend to piss off the regular guests as well as the Call Ahead people, especially when the restaurant is on a particularly long wait. The problem comes from the “open” tables.

Guests who are put on a waiting list when there are open tables can be sorted into two groups: Assholes and Angels. The Angels accept that there are things outside of their control. Their minds are advanced enough to understand that there might be reasons for the waiting list with those open tables, like reservations or being short staffed.

The Assholes, however, tend to be entitlement junkies of the first degree. They’re the ones who won’t accept any explanation as to why they’re on a wait when there’s tables everywhere. They’re annoying enough for a server to have to deal with because they’re already pissed off, but they’re nothing compared to the Call Ahead Assholes.  This rare breed of Asshole makes the regular Asshole look like a dainty delicate daffodil.

Not only do they believe that because they called ahead they should get first priority over EVERYONE else in the restaurant, real reservations included, but should those tables be open because they are being held for someone who reserved them further in advance than that night, they can be a little unpredictable. Judging from the information Mr. Anonymous provided, he and wife were fairly stable, either accepting or letting the anger simmer beneath the surface.

They’re the rarity. For the most part, the Call Ahead Asshole isn’t going to accept any explanation. Always be prepared in situations like this for this breed of guest to lose their temper, ask to see the manager, get something free on their check, get almost everything free on their check, bitch at you and curse you with more words and flair than even me in my classic RagingServer days could pull off because they couldn’t get their Amaretto Sours for free, then leave you a dollar on that check that was originally almost 60 dollars for that party of two.

Ok so that’s the worst case scenario. Either way, if they have to wait when there are open tables after they called a couple of hours in advance, especially if those tables are for reservation holding guests, they’re going to be upset from the start, and 9 times out of 10 they’re going to take it out on their server.

Getting back to the advice portion of the post.. Hosts and Hostesses, when these call ahead guests start to get pissed off because you can’t give them a particular reserved table, you people have got to remember to stay calm, no matter how mouthy and bitchy they get, because the second you start getting an attitude back with them you make them harder for us to deal with.

Make sure you calmly explain why you can’t seat them at the reserved tables, and if possible remind them about the reservation policy. If you were the one who answered the phone and stupidly guaranteed them a table the exact time they came in, then you are the fucking morons that should have to deal with their attitudes. Explain to them as politely as you can that while you can’t allow them the reserved tables, that they are FIRST on the waiting list, and get them to a table as soon as you can without screwing the server in the process (that’s another post).

Guests, please just remember that no matter what restaurant it is, the Call Ahead is in no way equal to the actual reservation, no matter what the little 16 year old hostess told you when she answered your call. Despite your having made a “reservation” a couple of hours before your visit, expect to have to wait at least a little while.

That’s all on the topic of reservations vs. call aheads for today.

I’d like to thank you all for coming back to the RagingServer archives, and assure you that I will be back on a domain soon, with server space and hopefully the backups will be up in full then. I would also like to thank my new readers, and to everyone, I apologize for how long winded and disjointed this post is. It’s my first actual blog in a few years, so it’ll take a little time to get into the swing of things.

If you want to help get the new domain and space, or at least help advertise, I could really use it, and you can donate here: Help Resurrect RagingServer

Until next time,



Slow nights…

It’s been slow at work. It’s been slow at work all week long. I’m tired of going to work to make no money. I know the economy is slow, but come the fuck on. Not only is it slow, but the only trash that is coming out to eat is trash that doesn’t want to leave me a tip.

Tonight, in the bowling alley, it was a swirl of ghetto redneckyness. I had a couple of really nice lanes, ones that tipped me around 35%. Those two lanes didn’t make up for the other 7 I served that didn’t leave me jack shit!

First we have Deflanaqueesha and her kids. “Hey you!” I hear while I’m at another lane. “Is you our waitah?” I still don’t know who is yelling at me so I choose to ignore it and keep taking my order. Then I feel the tapping on my back. Within seconds, the tapping becomes a light beating and I finally turn around. “What the Hell is your problem?” I yell before actually seeing that there’s a little boy standing behind me.

“My mommah wanna know if you is our waitah. She say if you is ta come ovah here.” The little brat ran down to the next set of lanes and proceeded to yell to his mother, “Dat man yell at me mommah.” This little fucker couldn’t have been more than 6-7 years old. Knowing what I was about to get myself into, I chose to continue taking my time.

When I finally did get to their lane, Deflanaqueesha didn’t give me a chance to talk. “Who da Hell do you think you is yellin at my baby like that? How the fuck dare you?”

“First of all, ma’am, your child came to me while I was with another guest. Your child didn’t let me finish doing what I was doing before he started yelling at me. YOUR CHILD chose to start beating me in the back rather than wait for me to finish doing what I was doing, so yes ma’am, I yelled at your child. I apologize, I lost my temper, but I’m not going to have some little kid beating me in the back when I’m busy doing my job!”

“How is you gon’ talk to me like that? I am the customah, you need to treat me with respect.”

“Well how about this, ma’am. I won’t disrespect you, and you keep your kids at your lane with you and supervised, like they’re supposed to be. What can I get for you to drink.” She muttered under her breath about me for a bit but I had to keep her from going off on me somehow. She ended up getting half her food comped for being “cold” with steam coming off of it, and left me a dollar on a 30 dollar check. Fucking dirty assed snatch licking whore.

Then we come to the rednecks in the pool room. I hate rednecks. I hate them with a passion. I walk into the pool room which my co-workers had been neglecting for the most part, and I see a group in the corner. They have drinks and food, so I don’t think anything about checking on them. They weren’t my guests. I walk past them and go on to the people I was already serving.

Once again, I hear yelling. “Hey boy.” I ignore it, not sure if they’re yelling at me or not. I hear another yell, this one more centralized and much closer to me. “Hey waiter!” Fuck you, bastard, I don’t respond to the names ‘boy’ or ‘waiter’. I turn around, and I see a tall, maybe 6’6 or so, and stocky white guy wearing a red and white striped polo. He’s got an empty beer bottle in his hand. “I need anotha beer, boy.”

“I’ll make sure to tell your server you need another one then.”

“We done paid her, why don’t you go get me one. Brang us some shots uh Jager too.”

I can see just how drunk these mother fuckers are already, so I just kind of smile and nod and walk away. Less than a minute after I get back into the bowling alley, Big Red comes around the corner yelling, “Wheres da Jager at?”

I think maybe his girlfriend was embarrassed at how he was acting out in public, because when I finally rang in an appetizer sampler for them, 15 dollar check, she tips 5 bucks and writes “Sorry bout everythin” on the bottom of her credit card slip. I personally think that Big Red was a bit abusive with how she was cowering every time he came close to her.

Apparently he and his friends got a little pissed off at how much their pool tab came up to because they were pissed as hell when it came time to pay for it. The door “bouncers” and manager made sure they were escorted out afterwards.

This is the kind of shit that happens on a slow night. This, and the 38 bucks I made before tip out on an almost 600 dollar night of sales.

And people wonder why I hate working in the bowling/billiard area where I’m forced to serve nothing but trash. I don’t know why I keep getting screwed over there, but it’s really starting to piss me off. The game room is where I’m strongest, and where I make actual money despite having to serve trash within the great people.

If you’re going to act like you’ve caught the dumbass, if you’ve caught the dumbass, or if you’re just plain stupid, don’t bother coming out in public. Your actions cause people to plot your deaths….vividly.


As an add on to the original post, I’d like everyone to take the time to visit the RagingPartner’s site, FrontDeskBlog.

The Singers for Jesus

Have any of you heard of the Dove Awards? These are the people I got to deal with at work today and tonight. Those who sing for Jesus..

The Jesus Singers are evil people no matter how “Christian” they claim to be.

They came in like a swarm, starting around 2:30 today, once I was the only person left on the floor in my area. They swarmed the dining room. They swarmed wearing nice clothes, and ID badges to get them backstage. They also slammed our skeleton crew kitchen today, ordering hundreds of dollars worth of food and then bitching when it wasn’t out in 5 minutes or less like a fucking Burger King.

I had lots of complaints, and lots of bad tips today. I had a few good ones, not enough to make it worth staying for a full double shift, but what can ya do.

First table: “We’re singing at the Dove awards later. Please pray with us that we do a good job, it would mean so much if you would!” I didn’t have a chance to tell them I was a sodomite Pagan infidel before heads were bowed and they were invoking the names of various Biblical Prophets and Jesus Himself.

Second table: They seemed to be dressed in their Sunday best, however, their Sunday best was truly Redneck Chic. The mother of that demonic horde of groin spawn was extremely large. Think of the “Dark-Sided” Woman from Wife-Swap…


As I walked to the table, I was greeted with the sight of her holding a baby….to her…breast. The memory still makes me want to puke. She wasn’t just holding the baby, her other hand was forced to hold the breast….it’s size, it’s blubbery size…she had to pinch out the nipple for the baby because it was surrounded by the fat. She let her nip go as I walked up, startling her, and like one of those parasites that burrow into the skin of kitties and people alike, it wriggled back into it’s hole. I turned away, said “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” as quickly as I could, and barely made it to the bathroom. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem seeing boobs, but that was just about the sickest thing I’ve ever seen. They stayed for 3 hours playing games, then tipped me 10%. They too, chose to include me in prayer without my consent.

Table 3: By far the best table I’ve served in a while. Party of 7. Attendees of the Dove awards, but not singers or anything. Just people who were going to watch. They didn’t ask me to pray with them, they didn’t ask to pray for me, they didn’t even pray! They did however treat me like a person and not a slave. They did however talk with me, and they were very nice people. They tipped me a very nice rate of 50 on 200. I hope to see them again this weekend. Hopefully, they weren’t leading me on like some of my guests do.

Table 4: This particular table overheard me talking with my friend about the RagingPartner, and they figured out that I was a homosexuadaggah. They chose to pray for me for having a “perverse heart”, before requesting a different server. I made sure to inform them that not only did I have a “perverse heart”, that I was also a Pagan Infidel as well. They ended up leaving.

I had to endure more singing of praise than I ever had to deal with as a child, or on any Benny Hinn show. I’ve said it before, I don’t like dealing with religion at work, and now you all know the truth. I am a Pagan. I’ve been called a “godless infidel”, and a “western infidel”, and “Satanist, devil worshiping bastard”, and none of those things are true, especially not the devil worshiping part. It’s not that I disbelieve all Christian beliefs, it’s not that I don’t believe in Jesus and in God, I just have other beliefs too. Those don’t involve listening to the songs of worship while I’m at work. I don’t care if it’s the mighty Gospel awards, Gospel gets on my nerves even more than hymns!

With the exception of my 50 dollar, 25% tip that I got today from the one group, I never once got anything more than 10%.

So much for the generosity of hardcore Christians. It’s the Christians that don’t force it on ya that are generous. They’re the ones that understand that God just doesn’t pay the bills, no matter how hard they believe otherwise.

I don’t hate all Christians, I don’t even hate most of them. I just hate having praise forced on me!