Showing posts with label New York Post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York Post. Show all posts

Monday, March 4, 2013

New York Post Writer, Kyle Smith, Tips 11%

Every once in a while, an article gets shat onto the Internet about servers and so often it is written by someone who has probably never waited tables before. Correction: maybe they waited tables for a few weeks in college and think they have all the answers because they have "been there." The latest case is that of a New York Post article called "You Got Served" by Kyle Smith.

Where to begin, where to begin?

Basically, Mr. Smith is complaining about being "held hostage" as a diner and being forced to be nice to a server that he sees as a servant. According to his article, he likes the servers in France a lot better than those in the United States and he also announces that he tips a paltry 11%. My first piece of advice to Mr. Smith is to swim your cheap ass right back over to France and live it up over there. Shove a couple of croque monsieurs up your ass and leave a Euro for your tip. No server in this country is going to miss you one bit.

I want to look at several of the points he makes and respond to them individually:


"I’m not here to make friends. I don’t even need to know your name. By the time you tell me about the specials, I’ve already forgotten it." - That is a two way fucking street, sir. No server wants to announce his name to their table. The ones who do that are more than likely required to do so because of some stupid ass training that came down from the corporate office of Applebee's or Fuddruckers. If servers are constantly announcing their name to you, it might be because of where you are dining. And we don't want to be your friend either. Don't try to shake my hand or tell me your name because I care about that about as much as I care about whether you have the french onion soup or the crab cakes.

"After taking my order, they disappear and give way to a series of surly busboys who do the food delivery, the clearing, the refilling of the water glasses."- Don't assume that is happening to everyone because in my experience, I only delegate those tasks to the busser when I think the customer is an asshole, asshole.

"The worst part of dealing with American waitrons is we’re forced to be nice to these creepy ex-darlings of their high-school theater departments because of the unspoken hostage drama that’s taking place behind the scenes with our food." - It is also the worst thing for us; having to be nice to these creepy present-day dickbags of the New York Post because of the unspoken hostage drama that's taking place between their wallets and my bills being paid.

"And what’s with the squatting while you’re telling me about the specials?" -I agree. It's stupid. Stop it, servers.

"Stand up and be a man. As much of a man as it’s possible to be while enthusing over whipped-feta crostini." - Are you saying that a real man can't talk about whipped-feta cheese? That's like saying "be as much of man as it's possible to be while rocking a gingham button-up shirt and being a ginger."

"And in France, I’ve been baffled to get turned away from an entirely empty establishment at 6 p.m. because all tables are already reserved — for diners who intend to show up at 7:30 or 8 or 8:15. Don’t they want my money in the meantime?" - My thought is that they recognize you from the last time you dined there and they don't want to serve you again, stupide Americain.

"Enjoy my 11% tip."- I will enjoy your 11%tip  and I hope that by putting your picture up here, more servers in New York City will know what to expect from you. Maybe that way they won't sneak up behind you and ask you how everything is and you can eat in peace. However, we all know that if a server didn't ask you how everything is you would use that as your excuse to leave a shitty tip. You can't complain that servers are checking up on you. It's our job. If you're going to leave an 11% tip, I dare you to tell that to your server as soon as you sit down. I guarantee if you do that, he won't be there to see how everything is. 

I wish there was a place to leave comments on this article, but there isn't. However, Mr. Smith does have a blog that you can leave a message on and I think you should do it: leave a comment here!!
Don't use profanity or it will not get posted. Tell him The Bitchy Waiter sent you.



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