Get some Bitchy Waiter in your email!

Friday, October 26, 2012

Bitchy Waiter Horror Story

Something happened at work that scared the living hell out of me. Chills crept down my spine and a cold sweat came over my entire body making me damp and sticky and not the usual honey mustard kind of damp stickiness I normally have.
Moments after clocking in, my manager walks up to me with purpose. I know he has something to tell me and I brace myself.

"Hey," he says. "I got an email the other day and it was about you."

"Oh, really?" I squeak out. "What did it say?"

My mouth goes dry, my eyes widen and my knees buckle. The hair on my arms stands up and my pulse quickens.As I try to keep from swallowing my tongue, my brain begins running through every possible scenario that would cause someone to write an email about me and send it to my boss.

Oh my God, did that woman two weeks ago see me stick my tongue out at her baby because that baby totally had it coming. It was so rude, that baby, the way it kept laughing at the top of her lungs and shrieking with delight. Or maybe the email is about that time I told the man at booth 7 that I couldn't vouch for the Cabernet but the glass of Chardonnay that I was currently enjoying in the sidestand was quite delicious. Could it have been about me playing Words With Friends in the bathroom when that lady knocked on the door and I screamed out "occupado" and then when I came out I told her I was very busy trying to create a seven-letter word? Is it about this post I wrote about my regular who never shuts up? Maybe it's from the two-top who saw the raccoon on the patio last week. I stood there and watched it with them but told them not to tell my manager because if he knew about it he would call the exterminator and have him come and trap it and take it away like he did earlier this summer to that little baby raccoon who ended up being dropped off on Long Island somewhere.Sure the raccoon we saw last week could have been rabid or mad with grief and still trying to find its offspring that we shipped away, but she was so cute sitting there on the fire escape that I didn't want to rat it out and see it get trapped. Did someone see me on television and didn't appreciate my attitude so they felt compelled to alert my boss that he has an asshole on his staff? Or maybe the email is from a customer who saw me box up some food to-go after that piece of steak may or may not have fallen onto the floor before I placed into the box with care
Oh, the horror! This email could be about so many things! I see my job slipping from my fingers and I imagine myself traipsing up and down Ninth Avenue dropping off applications at restaurants that only want to hire young waiters who are just filling time between their modeling gigs.

"Yeah, I've never gotten an email about you before, but I guess there's a first time for everything," says my manager.

"Heh, heh. Yeah, sure..." I mumble. "So, what'd say?"

Long pause. It feels like the lights are getting dimmer but they may be because the blood is flowing from brain and right down to my feet.

My manager smiles. "They wanted to compliment you and your service. They said you were so friendly to them and that your shirt and apron were nicely pressed. They just wanted me to know how great you were. Good job."

A sigh of relief escapes from my mouth releasing with it all the fear that had crept into my body within the last fifteen seconds.

"Oh, that's cool," I say. "But duh, what else would someone have to say about me?"

Yeah, that was truly fucking scary.

Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.


anne marie in philly said...

oh my dog, it was good news! YAYZ for bitchy! have a good weekend!

Sam said...

I know that feeling! My heart sank to my toes at the thought of myself getting an email!

Idris v said...

it seems like a bitchy waiter fan copied and pasted from a post about how to please your boss

Rennifer said...

I used to work at a corporate restaurant with strict rules that barely anyone followed. We all made good money there and had reasonable schedules and benefits there so the ongoing joke was that if you worked there for more than 3 years, the only way that you were leaving is if you were fired. Many of us carried lists that detailed every rule that we had broken so that when we got fired someday for some dumbass offence, we could look back at the list and remember the 58 things that we had done that we SHOULD have gotten fired for. Eating 9 breadsticks....drinking a kid's cup of 3 different sangrias...not lighting a customer's cigarette for them (most were happier with a free lighter)...forgetting to ring up a soda. You brought back some good memories for me Bitchy.

Anonymous said...

I really enjoy reading you blog and page. There is something I've been wondering do you keep your boss from knowing who you are? You're like the superhero of the restaurant industry..."The Bitchyman". Do you wear your distinguishable, awesome hair? Or do you have to disguise yourself like Clark Kent and slick it back? Seriously, you should know better than anyone, that if you work in the restaurant business, that even if you fart someone will start a nasty, exaggerated rumor about how you have chronic flatulence and make your life hell for a day or so. So, how do you keep unidentified? How do you keep your coworkers quiet if they do find out?
I really enjoy reading your blog before I have to put on my remarkably, uncomfortable "shoes for crews", make it to work on time to do prep work that I'm only paid a servers wage to do, followed by keeping the customers as happy as possible to ensure the managers can get their lunch breaks in and "chill". It's work, but someone has to do it, and I appreciate your words of encouragment that help us get through the day!!!

The Bruce said...

Oh yeah, real nice email. Mentioning how nicely pressed your apron and shirt were but not one word ABOUT YOUR HAIR. Ungrateful bastards.

Anonymous said...

Love your blog. I would never have the patience to do your job. Especially, when I think about a story I read a few days ago that I just can't forget (and believe me, I've tried very very hard to remove the image from my brain). Here's the link, I'd love to know if anything like this has ever happened to you or how you'd deal with it in your restaurant:


Jill said...

If you're human and have EVER had a job, every person out there can relate to this! And that "feeling". The lights seemingly going dim was my favorite line.

My supervisor did this one time to me. "Can I see you for a minute?" *gulp* And it turns out it was, "I'm going in for eye surgery. I'll be taking about a week off." Whew!