The Thought process of every Waitress

September 5, 2014 – Food & Drink

‘Every’ you question? Yes, every! I use ‘waitress’, being gender specific, because I am a female. If you haven’t waited on people in a restaurant well ain’t you just the lucky one and also a snob!

It’s one of those jobs that you repeatedly say ‘I promise myself after this restaurant I won’t ever have to serve again’. I think I’ve thrown in the towel four times now. It’s the easiest and quickest job to get if you have the experience in and even if you don’t, just chance the fib and pretend you have such skills.

Skills needed:

1.To use your initiative. 2. Carry more than two plates at a time. 3. Don’t scream at customers.

A majority of waitresses are doing side projects and freelance work that doesn’t quite pay the rent yet, but chin up!

Did I mention the constant earning of minimum wage even if you are forty-five years of age? Yes, the majority of restaurants hourly rate is minimum wage so next time you have your waitress in sweat mode, sometimes it’s so bad you can feel it run though your crack! That’s not an exaggeration or maybe I’m just a really good worker? Bearing in mind I have a sweat patch on my bottom due to constant running around, I think ‘oh dear customer would you be so kind as to leave a flippin’ tip?’  That’s the entire reason we’re on minimum wage you jackass! Last week a girl told me the man on her table said ‘I’m going to leave you a ten cent tip’ was he lying? No he wasn’t but he surely got a kick out of it. When this happens, smile and be proud. People who do this are rude.

I once heard that a fella dipped his testicles in someone’s teacup then he watched in awe as the ole fella drank his tea merrily. ‘Excuse me waiter, I seem to have a curly hair in my tea?’ Don’t piss your waiter off.

Next time you begin to order ‘half and half’ cultchies term for half rice and half rice chips, just don’t! For the love of God just choose either one. Nine times out of ten you won’t need those extra carbohydrates; the proof being that missing button on your shirt.

Friday seems to have all the crazies out and about? Why? If I knew why then I wouldn’t have the question mark on the first sentence!

You see a buggy or pram coming towards your table and that white light that people speak of, well it’s there and beaming against your face. ‘Oh, would you like a high- chair for your mini-nark? Oh I meant infant’. ‘Certainly Madame, I will go fetch that for you right away.’ The sachets of ketchup in the middle of the table, yes the red ones! They are for oral consumption not for your child to squeeze the living day lights out of  and not to paint the walls a runny red colour. *This makes one not want to have children* ‘Oh you’re finished? Thanks goodbye!’ Did you forget to clean your child’s mess up? Oh that’s okay I’ll clean it all up, after all I am earning a whopper €8.65. I forgot to say have a nice day, yes that was deliberate.

That gig that you really want to go to, that family function you have, that fun sunny bank holiday that all your friends are drinking and having a wobbly session straight through the day, Christmas, you name it, we’re working. It’s a 24/7 industry.

Prepared to be ignored! Oh if you could please just stop ignoring me that would be great and I can take your order. Ah hem, get off your phone and communicate like God intended us to. It’s not as if I don’t have four tables behind me throwing me daggers as they too are waiting.

Everyone knows it; no, the customer is not always right!

Hot plates a’coming! ‘Please Sir, don’t touch the plate as it is quite hot. What does he do? He touches it. Whether or not it’s out of curiosity or stupidity I will never know. But the scar on your index finger will live to tell the tale. He obviously failed to see me practically power walk through the restaurant floor because my hands were about to drop off even though it’s burning through the tea-towel.  Oh you want ice for your poor little boo boo? Yes indeed I’ll get that for you right away. Upon arrival, again, you’re off on another mission to get him a fork because he just dropped his clean one on the floor. In moments like this, I’m really glad I know how to meditate.

What is that sticky thing on my finger? Oh it’s just someone’s disgusting chewed up gum neatly rolled into a ball and placed on the middle of the table. How kind of that person to leave it for me, you prat!

It’s 10pm and the last man sitting won’t leave. By the last man I mean a group of Spanish friends who come in and order one meal between fifteen of them.

Are you ready for it again tomorrow?

Words: Seana Henry.

Illustration: Sarah Cunningham.