Really, I wanted to call this episode "Sunday Shitty Sunday" but These American Servers has a policy against using titles that couldn't be published in a mainstream daily newspaper. In the unlikely event that anyone actually reads the pseudo-pornography contained herein, well that's on them. Of course, if I flog your blog, I'm pretty cool with just about anything, which will no doubt make the author of the delightful Fuck My Table breathe a little easier.
Anyway, the end of my third full week after training at the new PM gig was tonight. It's the first Sunday I've been scheduled there. It was a pretty shitty evening.
I got there a few minutes before five, checked my station and clocked in. Shortly after, I got sat with an attractive lady, I call her Mrs. MILFord, and three children, none older than seven. They were all nice but kind of ran me. I got four dollars on an $18.00 ticket. Not that bad, but it got worse.
Then two of my fourtops got pulled together for an eight. They rolled in slowly, one couple at a time. They requested our secret Sunday two-for-one Happy Hour. I fucking hate two-for-one, whichever side of the bar I'm on. To me it's a big "Fuck You!" from management to their service personnel. But we offer if it's asked for, so they got it. I rang 'em in and the bartender made a tall double cocktail and I got duals of all their wines and drafts, just like I wanted. No problem.
Some of the guests ordered another round and I rang that in. The other bartender, Jenna, poured my double cocktail but made just one of everything else. I asked for the rest of my order, and eventually got it, but not before being lectured and scolded by the snotty little bitch.
The clients finished up and paid. After they left I saw that I'd gotten 15 to 20% on each of the four tickets, which would have been fine if they hadn't sat at the table for well over an hour after settling up. These people are from the wealthy suburb where the store is and I'll remember them fondly the next time I refrain from voting for any Republicans. "Ha ha, this ballots for YOU, bitches!!!"
A little later my new nemesis Jenna was at a register. I needed a check presenter and she had one next to her. I was pretty busy, but of course still said, "May I?" I wouldn't snag it if she had just hunted it down for her own clients.
She said something smartass, I don't recall what. So I went and sought a book elsewhere, even though Jenna hadn't needed the one that had been next to her.
Some other crizzap happened tonight. I got two really shitty tips, for example, and a manager said some stupid, unhelpful, irritating shit to me while I was kind of weeded. I'm composing this a couple of days before it'll get posted, so I might edit or add to it. But right now I've got to stop. Telling y'all about tonight's shittiness is a little like reliving it and it's bumming me out too much!
Woah! That's a little more rantageous than usual for These American Servers, but it's all true, so there ya go. Just so you'll know, Monday and Tuesday were a lot better and I'm off tonight. Now I just need someone to pick up my Saturday (8-13-'11) PM shift. Any of y'all want it? I mean, it can't hurt to ask, right?
Have a good one, everybody! ☺