Inner Monologue Take- Over

It was almost closing time at the restaurant. I had been up since 6, getting Maddie ready for school, me ready for work, going to work and school, picking up Maddie from school, meeting Justin for an early dinner and me going to my second job of the day/night.

I was tired.

Really tired.

I was waiting for one table to finish up their dinner and then, I was outta there. Enter four tables at the same time. 30 minutes before we closed.

I stayed to pick up a table. No big deal. I thought they would be in and out in no time.

Fast forward to an hour after we closed. My table was still there. With no intention of leaving. My friend and I made every effort to make them see that it was time to go. Lights were dimmed. Music was off. Every dish was off the table.

"Um, miss?" What? Don't ask for anything. The bar is closed. The kitchen is closed. WE ARE CLOSED. LEAVE!

"Can you call us a taxi?" Are you planning on tipping me more?

"Sure. What time should I tell it to be here?"

"Whatever time you want us to leave."

And this is where my inner monologue took over my mouth and I said the first thing that came to mind.

"I should have called a long time ago then, huh?"

They didn't tip nearly as well as I thought they might. Wonder why?

My Last Post About Work, For A While- Promise

Last night, the unthinkable happened. I cried at work. That's not me. I can handle myself under the most stressful of situations. I may get flustered, I may get angry, I may ask for help, but I. Don't. Cry.

I had several tables- no big deal. I screwed up a big tables check- nothing that couldn't be fixed. I ordered the wrong food- table never even knew it, again, no big deal.

I lost my server book- REALLY BIG DEAL.

My server book had all of the money I had made that night. It held all of the money I had made for the restaurant, and was expected to turn in at the end of the night. It held all of the credit card slips, proving how much money I had made through credit cards. It held my favorite picture of Maddie.

I first noticed it around 8ish. By 8:30, almost all of the servers knew about it. The entire restaurant staff was helping my look for it. People were digging through trash cans. Others were going through all of the menus, hoping that it had been accidentally mixed in with them. Like I said, it was a big deal.

By 9:30ish, everyone had pretty much given up hope. We were all still keeping our eyes open for it, but didn't hold out much hope of finding it. Conspiracy theories were floating around- Who took it? Probably the new chick. I bet a customer saw the cash and grabbed it. Did you notice the new busser?

In all honesty, I have no idea what happened to it. And, that's not like me. At all. I may randomly wash money in the washer. I may forget the $20 bill in my jacket and leave it there, until the next season. But, I don't lose my server book, with around $300 in it. Ever.

And, then, after I thought I was done crying about it, the manager had another server bring me to the front of the restaurant. Lots of the servers were there, and I thought it may have been one great big joke, and someone had been hiding my book the whole time.

Nope.

Something nicer. He handed me a wad of money. "Here. This is from the servers. They collected money and wanted you to have it. Consider this your tip money for the night. We'll worry about the other later."

Pretty awesome, huh? What is even crazier about the whole thing is that it came from some people that I can barely tolerate. Don't get me wrong, I have lots of friends that work there. But, some of the people, I don't have anything in common with, and well, quite frankly, they get on my freakin' nerves. And, they chipped in so I would have money at the end of the night.

It was totally unexpected and I'm extremely grateful to each one of them. If it were to ever happen to one of them, I'll be the first one to toss in money. The manager on shift, helped me out and I'll be paying back the money over the next week. Just a little at a time.

I had a hard time sleeping last night. Did someone I work with take my money, without any second thoughts? Was it a customer that knows how to steal identities, b/c it also held my check stubs with my social security number on it? Did I, gasp, throw it away? Oh, crap, I forgot to look through that one trash can. That's where it has to be. I know it.

If someone did steal my server book, I hope the money was well spent. I hope they enjoy the pictures of Maddie on the front cover. They were my only copies of them, and my favorites, so I hope they value them as much as I did.

I hope they have a conscience and return my server book, money intact. So I can give back all of the money that the servers worked their butts off to make.

Because, you see, I cried last night. And, I don't want them to tell anyone.

Help Me Spend Two Dollars

If you ask any server what the worst part of being a server is, the answer would be universal- bad tippers. No one can figure out 15% like a server.

Last night, I waited on a table of two young people. Their bill was around $76. Guess how much they left me. . . Are you ready for this? $2. That's right. Two freakin' dollars. And, trust me, I provided them with exemplary service.

So, I started asking around. What can you buy with two dollars, these days? Here is the list we (the other servers and I) came up with:

2/3 of a gallon of gas
1/2 latte from Starbucks (if they offered halves)
4 cans of Natural Light
2 Trojans from the machine in the gas station
1 donut with sprinkles from Krispy Kreme
1 20oz soda
1 pack of Hannah Montana playing cards (she has playing cards?!?!)
2 Double Cheeseburgers from McDonalds
4 stamps with a little change left over
1 king size candy bar

Can you add to this list? How should I spend my $2?

Since I'm headed to Memphis this weekend, I'm thinking of driving down to Tunica, MS.

After all, I could get 200 pulls on the penny slot machine.

My Sincere Gratitude

Since I work in a restaurant, Valentine's Day is one of the several holidays that I am required to work. And, since I think it is a made-up, stupid holiday, that forces couples to spend money on unnecessary things, I don't mind. Let them spend their money- tipping me.

And so, tonight, since I am too keyed up to go to bed, I am writing some thank-you notes to the people that made my night a success.

To the man who removed his screaming child from the table, thank you. The other patrons didn't want to hear him and this, in effect, made everyone happier. Thank you, also, for telling your wife as you were leaving, that you would be getting a babysitter next time.

To the lady who was giving a toast to her man, thank you. Thank you for not causing a scene when he, in the middle of your toast, asked for more ranch dressing. And, to the man, thank you for making me appreciate the allure of ranch.

Thank you to the 90ish couple that held hands. It made my night, seeing you still in love. And thank you for leaving waaaay before me, so I didn't have to be on the road while you were driving home.

I would also like to thank the Nashville Metro Transit Authority for putting a bus stop in front of the restaurant. It sure helps with our clientele. It also helps knowing that they are eating on a schedule, and we can hurry them out.

Thank you all of the customers who believe that nothing says romance like some Red Lobster garlic biscuits.

And, last, but definitely not least, to the little busser girl with bright blue eye shadow, thank you for stealing my last table's tip. I'm thankful because now, I know to keep an eye on you and I have told all of the other servers to do the same. I realize that you probably stole someone's social security card number, in order to get this job, but please, don't touch my money. We are on to you. Short translation: No robe mi dinero otra vez. Got it?

All In A Day's Work

Justin is a self- proclaimed snoop. Got a rash, that needs cream? I probably know about it. No medicine cabinet is safe. If you have pre- plastic surgery pictures in the guest bedroom, he will find them. And tell me. There is no maliciousness involved, he's just, well, nosy.

With his job (cleaning carpets) he meets lots of different people. And goes into lots of different houses. But, out of professional courtesy, he doesn't snoop in customers' houses, only acquaintances. You see, it would be bad for business if he got caught going through someone's bedside drawer.

And the crazy thing is- he doesn't even need to snoop through his customers' houses. They leave some of their most private possessions in plain view. He has had to kick a battery operated "friend" under the bed. He has seen compromising pictures from Mardi Gras, right next to a man's pair of leather pants. Eew.

Today, he cleaned an elderly lady's apartment. She was blind. Not a just a little blind, either. When she wrote him a check, she had to bend over until she was about 6 inches from the table- and still didn't write on the lines. Justin was casually looking around and spotted something crazy. No- not another "friend". Get your mind out of the gutter! It was something scarier.

It was an application for a driver's license. In her name. Great.

Oh, and it De- Lurker day! I didn't know anything about it, but every blog I've looked at today is doing it, and I'm always looking for a bandwagon to jump on, so- do it, show yourself, it won't hurt (promise), leave a comment. De-Lurk.

Where Is Kramer When You Need Him?

Anybody a fan of Seinfeld? Remember this episode? It's the one where Kramer's phone is the same as the movie hotline. The same thing has happened to us.

Last year, Justin and I decided to buy a carpet cleaning franchise. We bought the rights to one specific area, while one other man owned the rest of the county. Well, to make a long story short, the other man- who is also a preacher and a real estate agent tried to sell his area. He wasn't able to and told Justin that he felt led to just give it to us. How cool is that?

Since they had different phone numbers, for the different areas, we had all of the other man's phone calls forwarded to Justin's phone. No big deal, right? It really shouldn't be.

Enter the movie theater. There is one number that is different in our number and the theater's number. Guess which number is listed on the internet as the movie hotline? THE WRONG ONE.

So, every single day, we get calls for the movie theater. At first, it was funny.

"Hola, this is Rosa."
"Movie phone, Kramer speaking"
"Nope, Back to the Future is not showing at this theater"

But, then it got old. Really old.

"No, it's 451, not 452. I know it's not listed correctly."
"They are right across from Kroger."
"Do you want your carpets cleaned or not?"

And the crazy thing is this- the correct number is in every phone book. If you are smart enough to look up the phone number on the internet, why not go ahead and see what time the movie starts.

The little button that says "Movie Times" should help you out. After all, I'm no Kramer.

What Happens When My Inner Monologue Takes Over Mouth

Sometimes, it happens and there is no stopping it. It can get pretty ugly. But, sometimes, it's just plain funny.

Man at table: "We're ready for the bread. Right now.
Me: "Well, sir- if I lived in a bottle and my name was Jeannie, you'd have your bread. Right. Now."

Thankfully, his daughter recognized the humor in what I said and laughed. She took care of the tip.

An Open Letter

Dear Restaurant-goer,

Hi, It's me. Your server from last night. After a grueling, thankless night, I spoke with my fellow servers, and we decided that the only reason some of you are so rude is because you are sadly uninformed. I elected myself to give you a few hints. This may not apply to all of you, so if you treat servers like people and tip well- you may want to skip this post.

When your server approaches your table, greets you, and asks you how you are doing, please do not a.) ignore them b.) demand drink or bread c.) wave them away like a pesky fly d.) laugh when your child says, "chop chop" and waves you away. It's rude, and we will talk about you.

When your server repeats your order back to you, please do not a.) sigh and roll your eyes b.) ask us why we didn't listen in the first place c.) change your order completely. We do this because we want to make sure that everything will be correct when it comes to your table.

If your food comes out to your table incorrectly, please do not a.) yell at your server, it's probably the kitchen's mistake b.) suffer in silence c.) eat it and then want to get it for free. There is a polite way to address a problem. Yelling does no good, but then neither does not making the server aware of the issue.

If you need something, please do not a.) whistle for your server b.) slurp your drink as loud as you can until someone notices c.) assume that your server knows what it is you need without asking. I promise that if you whistle or slurp your drink, people will notice and the servers will not be the only ones talking about you.

When it comes time to paying the bill/tipping, please understand that a.) we make $2.13 an hour b.) we work for the same reason you do- to pay the bills c.) $1.01 tip on an $88.24 is not good (that one is for the table I had last night). Servers remember good tippers. We also remember bad tippers. And we have an uncanny knack for spotting both. And treat them accordingly.

I think that just about covers it. I will leave you with this advice. Just. Be. Nice. It won't hurt. Promise. Oh, and do you really want to be rude to the person that is in control of, well, your food?

I hope this helps, Chelsea and the rest of the staff at RL