Clang, Clang, SMASH! Dishes are breaking. Rap music is blaring. Servers are complaining, “Where’s my food? You forgot my macaroni and cheese. We are out of glasses in the back. We need ice in the front. Who took my coffee pot? I need a runner.”
Ah, the sounds from the kitchen of the restaurant where I work.
Oh, I have a new table. Maybe I can get some relief from the craziness in the kitchen.
My new guests look sane. I approach the table smiling and say, “Hi, how are you doing today?” only to hear the reply, “SWEET TEA!”
I think to myself, “I’m glad to hear that, can I get you something to drink?” but I keep smiling and say, “Yes, sir.”
Wherever you eat, your server is not someone whom you want to treat rudely. As an experienced server of four years, I know.
Your server has a fair amount of control over the speed at which you get your drinks, your order is placed and your food delivered.
Some things are out of control of your server, however.
“What do you mean you’re out of meatloaf? Isn’t this a restaurant?”
Yes, it is a restaurant, a restaurant run by humans, and as we all know, no human is perfect.
Sometimes I think it is a small miracle a restaurant works at all.
First, the guest must relay his order to the server, which often results in a scenario similar to the Sprint commercials in which one thing is said and another is heard.
In restaurants, people say they want one thing and wait until their food is brought to them to say they really wanted something else.
This often can be avoided by reading the menu or clearing up any details with your server.
The weirdest thing I ever heard in four years of waiting tables is the comment a lady who ordered a pork barbecue plate made.
Now, I assume if you order pork barbecue, you have no qualms about eating pork.
Well, when this lady tasted the pork barbecue, she said, “This pork came from a male castrated pig, and I can tell the difference; I want something else.”
First of all, what does a male castrated pig taste like, and how can you tell the difference?
And second, if you are that picky about pork, why would you order it at a restaurant where you don’t know from where the meat came?
More confusion comes when a server sends an order to the cook.
First, the server prays the cook gets the order, understands it, has the ingredients needed to prepare it and doesn’t let it go for a swim in the pinto beans for 20 minutes before noticing it.
Then, when the food comes out, the server hopes no other server really needs the same exact thing you ordered and sneakily steals it, the food is not dropped on the floor before it leaves the kitchen and it somehow reaches the correct table in edible condition.
So the next time you dine out, realize it is a small miracle to get what you want on the table.
Realize servers work hard in stressful conditions for $2.13 an hour plus tips.
So, if the service is halfway decent, tip at least 15 percent and always leave more than $2, because, really, what can you buy for $2?
The extra dollar won’t make a big difference to you, but at the end of a crazy night, that extra dollar will make a big difference to your server.