The Server's Advocate: Can I get some?

Tonight I went to work. Mother's Day, of all the days there are. The one day moms get a meal or some stupid treatment. I helped out in the yard. Mom appreciated it.

But, at work, it was utter chaos. Fucking people everywhere, moms and their families eating our fine, fine food. I don't blame 'em but it was just a pain in my ass.

Let me explain: I work a double on Fridays, a late shift on Saturday and then Sunday night. My week is far from over but the hump is Sunday nights. This night, unless last Sunday which was downright depressingly slow, was busy as hell. Unfortunately, for me, it was kinda slow. Sure, busier than most Sunday nights but no easier. Two things didn't help me much.

The first was one of my tables sitting for a couple of hours. Didn't order right away, didn't leave right away. This sucks because a server likes to "turn and burn." Not on this table. Lost about $150 in sales from them not moving. And, of course, they only left 15 percent. Oh, if they only knew...

The second was my party of eight: My first one. Two families, combined at one table, decided that, after they got their bill, which has a standard gratuity, they didn't like it. Now, if you eat $100 worth of food in a restaurant you should realize a server worked to earn your gratuity. Did this table appreciate it? Not at all. The manager, who is supposed to support me and my fellow co-workers, actually took the gratuity off the table, thus leaving it up to the eaters to pick what they wanted to leave. And what did they leave me for all my effort? $6... Total. Not $6 for each $50 tab but $3 from each person.

Half the reason I work where I work is to avoid the cheap ass holes that would come in and eat, gripe and not leave anything. I had plenty of that at Applebee's seven years ago. Now I work in a mall that caters to the spoon-feds and kept people of lovely Edina. People who come to my mall have money and lots of it. They drive Mercedes and other fancy imports. They wear $100 jeans and $5,000 watches. They know how to make money and how to spend it.

Most people who eat at my restaurant know that a server is doing all the work for them aside from eating the food. They realize that, when they ask for something, they get it, and quickly. But to crap all over a server because either you don't know better or because you are cheap, then you might as well stay home. Eating out is for those with money, not a right.

Truth be told, I have come to expect a degree of respect from my tables. I am quick and efficient. I rarely make mistakes and rarely take a long time to do anything for people. That is why I usually get good tips.

My managers seem to have forgotten that they were once in my shoes. Instead they cater to the big picture: The machine. They prefer the machine over the gears. But good gears, when they are gone, can make a well-oiled machine squeak. I'm not saying I am abandoning ship anytime soon (I wish!). No, I just don't think I can stand for this much longer. I think it might be time for some changes. One server suggested that we tell the party that there will be a gratuity before they seat them. If we make that a standard, then they don't get to question it.

I'm done bitching. Got to sleep... Peace.