CAPT. JOHNATHAN HILLSTRAND
COMMERCIAL FISHERMANYou want high-paying danger? Work a Bering Sea crab boat."There's like a ninety-nine percent injury rate," says Captain Johnathan Hillstrand, 45. "We've got a guy onboard who already broke an ankle. I hurt my arm really bad. There's so many ways to get hurt out here. A lot of ways to die, too."Based out of Dutch Harbor, Alaska, on the Aleutian Islands, Hillstrand captains the Time Bandit, a 115-foot crab boat that has a crew of six and was featured on the TV show Deadliest Catch. They work in any condition-roaring seas, wicked winds, snow squalls-to haul up and empty crab pots, steel cages about the size of a collapsible camper that, when full of squirming king crabs, can top 1,000 pounds. It's treacherous work. But on a good boat, a crew member can make $20,000-a month.

Broken bones? Real common.

"We've lost fingers, too," Hillstrand says. "But nothing big. No broken backs, anything like that."

Last Saturday, that is, December 1, my restaurant got mobbed. Every table was reserved, and we took more reservations than we have tables (to account for no-shows), which meant we were 3 - 4 tables short. The hostess, on her second day on the job, literally gave up half way through the night. We had to turn away all walk in costumers and some reservations were bumped to the bar.

It was the wrong date for Fearless Leader, the owner and general manager to experiment - She decided instead of the 5 servers (we had one no show) drawing up 38 tables into sections, everyone would "work together" and we would pool tips. Fuck that. By the end of the night $300 in cash was missing (no one knows if you swipe the cash from the tables - after all, there was no way to link it to you - the computer system was open)... There was poor service; No one knew what each table was up to and the lead-bus boy called in sick. This left us with two food runners who didn't know the table numbers and poor service all around. I have never seen so many 0 - 5 % tips in my life. Ironically, two tables told me if it were not for me, they would walked out. More on this latter.

The night was a complete disaster. We had one bar tender, it was her first day. Because she was so slow and didn't know where anything is (which is understandable on the first day. She is actually a good bartender), I had to make all of my drinks plus some for other people. Unreal. I am demanding a large cut of the bar tip out. Because of the missing cash and the poor all around tips, all five of us made $$72 after tip out and tip pool. After my cut of the bar, I will be right above $100.

This Saturday was different. We were packed yet again but we had real sections. Two waitress did such a terrible job that I had to take care of their tables for them. One table, an 8-top are some of my best costumers. Although I did not get the tips from their table, the threats to walk out turned into wanting private party information, two good bottles of wine and a huge thank you by the time I was done with them. Another table of my favorite guests had similar complaints and left with an equally positive smile and sense of satisfaction on their face. I was in my groove - up selling food and wine - quick fast service (although I did drop and break a glass of wine - a first for me).

I told "fearless leader," "You owe me." And I mean it. If not for me, the place would have fallen apart, about $500 less would have been spent not including people walking out and the computer would not have been fixed (I am the only one who knows how to program the POS system).

Despite this, I was told I didn't give good service. The reason: I did not help the other servers enough. This turned into a 4 minute lecture from Fearless Leader. I made $305 after tip-out of about 5% of my sales (on $1848 in sales - we had 6 servers working the floor and total sales were $7400, so you do the math - I had only 3 more tables than the lowest yielding server and 1 less than the second highest).

Not only was the only one to arrive early, but I was the only one not to arrive more than 20 minutes late. I saved the day and in return was told the dropping of the ball my everyone else was entirely my fault. Unreal. Fearless Leader itemized every professional fault of the entire waitstaff, including not speaking English, not knowing the menu, inability to sell wine, inability to open wine/champagne bottles, inability to understand guest needs, inability to communicate with the kitchen and inability to to use the POS system. This is my fault because I never showed them, to the tee exactly how to have the INTUITION and skills needed to their job. That is called incompetence not poor training. Some people were born to be doctors. Some people were born to CPAs. These people were not born to be servers. Period. I will not take the blame. At least not until I get my 200% raise.

This week was a great week financially. Before tip-out and tax and with my wage I hit $1,000.00. However, the politics and stress of my job (not the serving part, but the politics of the restaurant and the ups and downs of Fearless Leader) are getting to me emotionally, mentally and physically. I had SIX tables tell me I am the only one allowed to serve them on their next visit and three people tell me I am one of the best servers they have had. I am quick to act on requests and know how to have fun with my guest and make them feel good about their meals. After all, this is a sales job.

I will post, sometime this week, some funny stories from the dumber costumers. The tale of the drunkest table of age 50+ costumers I have ever seen, and other humor filled stories. Probably tomorrow or Tuesday after golf. I have had so little time to myself that I have decided to play some golf - alone - in the silence on Tuesday.

I will leave you with this - a costumer called in wondering if they could bring their own alcohol to the restaurant. I replied that they could not, as it would violate our liquor license. She then asked, "well, can we buy alcohol there?" "Yes of course you can." Why are some people so dumb? Yes, we will also let you bring a picnic lunch too. Hell, enjoy the entertainment, but please do not buy anything...

Other than standing outside of my boss's back gate throwing the office key at her with my dog in hand at 11 pm on Wednesday, I have never quit a job with great dramatics. However, I know many, especially in the restaurant business have.

So, I want to know, what are the best quitting/ getting fired stories that you have?

Leave them in the comments section!!

I arrived to work at 3:00pm, a little bit early, and was out and about running errands for the restaurant. I had to go to the liquor warehouse and buy some booze, go to Wal - Mart and a lots of other small stops along the way. I don't mind running these errands, as I get paid to goof off and drive around town. It's not like I am missing anything, because we do not open for costumers until 6:00 p.m. anyway. Once I am back, I find my fit from last week about people being late for work had, at least, some effect. By 4:15, I am told, all but two employees had shown up for work - the other two arrived by 5:00 p.m., a new record! (Note: we are supposed to arrive by 4).

At 7:30, I was getting nervous. No one was in the restaurant. The chef was complaining that all of the food would go bad and two of the servers went across the street to get some food to much on. It was looking grim.

Then, at 7:45, the flood gates opened and they came pouring in. I was first in the rotation and got a table of 3 - I know these people, they were born in a barnyard or raised by wolves or something along those lines. Lady number one is 5' 1" and easily 350 lbs. Despite this, she always insists on walking around in public in low-cut tube tops, letting her jelly rolls flap freely in the wind. This is complemented by her coke-bottle glasses and knee-high, high-healed stripper boots. Never mind we are a 4-star establishment and that we have a strict dress-code after 5:00 pm (which is "waived" when you spend ungodly amounts).

She was accompanied by this squirmy middle aged man who never says anything - other people have to order for him. That is until the bill comes. He always pays and always questions everything. "We didn't have four glasses of wine - only three." "No, sir, we brought four to your table." Are you sure this dish is $27.00? I thought it is $23.00" "No sir, I will bring you the menu and show you it is $27.00." "Maybe the menu I had was different?" "No sir, they are all the same."

The third woman is the black sheep. She is easily 6" 7' and slender with short blond hair. I suppose the paparazzi was after her last night, because she worse big black sun glasses - inside at 8 at night - a long black trench coat and long black leather boots.

Jelly roles decided to finish everyone's plate and, literally, lick the plates clean. Despite the tongue- driven dish-washing job she preformed on our plates, she asked for seconds on dessert.

The bill arrives for $210. Tip: $38.00.

The next table was the best one: The were quite, never asked for anything once they ordered and we happy with both the food and the atmosphere. It looked like three friends in their early 40s who wanted to enjoy a quiet high-end meal together. They ordered a cheaper bottle of wine and expensive food and were always smiling and saying "thank you" when I, or a busyboy, came to their table. On busy nights, these tables are a God-send. No, they do not tell you jokes or make you laugh or think differently about life, but they make the night go by easier without problems or over-loading you with marginal and trivial tasks. Bill: $187. Tip: $35.00.

My third tableresembled my second. A party of four, what looked like two couples, who wanted a quick, but elegant meal. They mentioned they had theatre tickets and were unfortunately a bit rushed. I do appreciate when tables tell you they cannot linger. Despite this, they did not rush me or get snippy or rude. I just made sure to deliver everything to the table as soon as I could. They weren't demanding nor were they unreasonable. They were in and out in an hour or so (fast for our restaurant). Bill: $134. Tip: $25.00.

Table Four was the 10-top from Hell. When I found I was next int he rotation at 8:35pm, I was very happy. When a ten top was sat in my section, I was delighted.

The ten top included 5 girls in their mid 20s, 2 older couples and a gay guy in his mid 30s. How or where they found each other, I have no clue. What they have in common or why the dine together is beyond me. However, after 10 minutes, I realized they all have one big thing in common: they are all ass-holes and bitches. Pardon my language.

The table orders 2 bottles of cheap wine and a two shots of tequila. At this point, I asked if they would be paying together or separate. Of course, this ten top wanted 6 separate checks. No problem. I was working with a new waitress in training on the ten top and showed her how to split one table 6 ways. On our POS system, a 6-way split is not an easy endeavor and takes planning and a strong will.

Once the wine and tequila is out, I go back and take orders. Old man, sitting at the end of the table says to me "I want a Cesar salad and a T-Bone Steak." Never-mind I was taking the women's orders first or that I never actually asked HIM what he wanted, he decided to bark orders out of turn. I ignored his first request, as another member of his party was midway through her order. She finishes, and he barks the order again, this time with the preface "Listen up!"

I reply, "I am sorry sir, I was talking with the woman seated next to you, I did not want to interrupt her as she explained her order. What can I get for you SIR and THEN I will take the ladies' orders."

"I want a t-bone - you understand? T - Bah. Own. Steak. And a Cesar salad."

"Sir, we do not have t-bone on the menu. Perhaps you would like to try our --"

"No! I want a T. Bah. Own. Steak. Is it that hard to understand?"

"Yes sir, it is. We do not have t-bone steak. As I said, I can bring you a --"

"Listen you little dictator. I will not have you tell me what I can and cannot eat and when." Who said anything about when? "I want a steak and that is all there is too it or I will never eat here again. I will make other plans for tonight as well if the service remains this bad."

"Yes sir, feel free to make plans elsewhere."

I take the orders for the rest of the table, and then go back to the computer. Old man runs up to the manager. I really don't care. If he has terrible things to say about me, then so be it. I don't need him or his money.

My manager tells me he has eaten here before and is always an old jack-ass and not to worry about him. To me, this is a license to have a good time.

I go back to his table:

"Sir, have you made a decision or will you be sitting on the sidelines tonight?"
"I will have the fish. Rare."

"Sir, there is a sushi bar next door."

"I said rare!"

"Yes sir, but if you become ill from eating rare fish, please do not blame us."

I go back to the computer: Fish, well done.

Three women ask for more "sauce." They don't tell me which sauce they want, so I ask "which sauce are you referring to?" "You know, sauce. What are you, stupid?"

"No, ma'am, I simply need to know which sauce you want. If you insist on calling me names, I will not bring you the sauce."

The woman points. She wants vinaigrette dressing.

I go to the back and bring one vinaigrette dressing.

"Do you have another one?"

"No, no I do not." I walk away and ignore them for a good 20 minutes.

The food runners/bus boys deliver the food and the waitress in training volunteers to sell them another bottle of wine, which they accept. The plates are removed and dessert is ordered. I made a point of getting the order while old-man was in the bathroom. No dessert for the foggey.

As I go back to the computer, the bar tender tells me that one of the men at the table - the other old man - ordered a bottle of wine at the bar. I go to the table to verify that the bar tender brought and opened his wine and he tells me, "yes and I paid for it at the bar. I shall ask them sir." "What! You don't believe me. Don't be an ass hole." "Sir, please don't use that kind of language. I am here to make you night enjoyable, not be subject to humiliation." Hmmm... that just sounds too fishy for me.

I go to the bar tender and ask "Did the man in the blue shirt at table XX pay for his wine here? Or did he want me to put it on his bill?"

Bartender: "No, he did not pay here."

I put the wine on his bill. If he wants to argue when the bill comes out, fine. But I'll let him think he scammed us out of a chardonnay for the time being... As they ate their food, I made a point to check on my other tables, refill water and smile and laugh -- but ignore this 10-top from hell.

I split the check 6 ways, and in doing so I add 18% to each check. After all, it is a 10-top. So, 10 people spent $700. That should be a good $120 or so for my troubles. Fair is fair. Rules are rules. Fuck you ten top.

Each of the bitches pays except one. She said to me that $24.03 (18% of her bill) is too much gratuity and she has never paid that much in tips before in her life. I explain I do not have the authority to remove this from the bill and there is not much I can do about it without the manager, and it might take upwards of 30 minutes to get her to fix the bill, if in fact she agrees to break the policy."

The woman, with a devilish look on her face says "I am in a hurry" and makes a shoo-shoo motion with her hands. I reply, "Ma'am, if you feel you do not need to tip, in the future, I will not wait on you and I will not hurry with your bill. You will have to wait and I am sorry if that is inconvenient for you. You have been nothing but inconvenient for me." I really don't care if I tell her off or lose her business.

I reply that because she was in a table 10, the tip is added into her bill and that is our policy. She complains and tells me that she is only in a party of two. After all, she is simply paying for herself and her husband (The wine scammer, by the way).

I explain this problem to the manager who tells me that she has pulled this before, trying to get out of paying for her bill a few weeks earlier on the grounds that she did not like her food - this despite her finishing her plate. The manager, who is as mild-mannered as a person can be replies "She's just a bitch and a pain in the ass. I don't care if she ever eats here again. We don't need her business."

The manager comes back and tells me the woman now feels she should get a 50% discount on her ticket because she did not enjoy the food and should not have to pay gratuities. The manager, no fuming, takes the gratuity off of her bill and taks on a $15.00 corking fee to the wine (which, by the way is on the menu if a table of 10 only orders wine.) She tells me to keep the corking fee as a tip.

I go back to her table, sans ticket book, with her bill. The woman is dancing on the dance floor, and, in front of everyone else at her table, I place her check deep inside her dessert, a slice of cake, with a fork. In other words, I have wedged an 8"x 2" sheet of paper into her cake - which by the way, I expect her to pay for. If she claims I did it, I will simply deny it. She has no credibility with the manager, and I think she might actually find the situation somewhat humorous. The woman pays cash and leaves a $5.00 tip on her now $165.00 bill - hence, I made $20 off of her.

One the way out, old man tells me how terrible our service and food is and that he might not come back. "Well sir, it sounds like everyone wins. Have a good weekend anyway."

The gay man, who had a bill of $84, including a $12 gratuity was a bit embarrassed. He left $45.00 on top of the $12.00. Later, he ordered two shots for him and a friend - $14.50 -- and tipped $10.00 on the bill.

Around midnight, my favorite costumers arrived. They simply ordered a cheap bottle of sparking wine. I brought them some bread and cookies and corked their bottle, always making sure their glasses were full and pulling out their chairs when they got up to dance. They only spent $32.00, and the $8.00 tip, although my smallest of the night, was the most appreciated. It is always wonderful after a long busy day to see a friendly face. They walked in, shook my hand, and asked for my section. With the all of the name calling and other mishaps of the night, a friendly face makes the night feel better.

In other news, the new guy I hate was yelled at by the owner for being rude to costumers. He was so rude a table walked out on him and another complained and complained. It turns out, he told the table to "fuck off." I have served that table before. I found them to be very sweet and easy going people. The manager took $25.00 off their bill and explained to new guy that the costumers' needs come first: It turns out the dispute was over their beverages. They wanted refills and the new guy replied that he was too busy. They explained that they would simply like a water refill to go with their expensive $100 wine and that his reply was inappropriate. He replied with "fuck off." This is good. He may be his own worst enemy.

In all, I did not get home until 4:00 am - a 13 hour day, However, the $300.00 pay-day made it worth while.

I need my rest.

I need my energy not just for the guests, but for the politics and the bull shit.

As you know, I keep this blog as anonymous as possible. However, from here on out, I am going to be a little more straight-forward. I will drop some hints as to where I work. If you can figure it out, or think you already have, post a comment with a return email address asking me to e-mail you. I will let you know if you're hot or cold.

Sweet dreams.

Despite the trend, one table came to spend. Here's the problem:

As I mentioned in previous posts, serving Europeans are absolute crap shoots. I always feel slightly uncomfortable around Europeans. For example, in Europe, you do not remove plates, take orders, bring the check or do or say anything unless you are asked. In other words, the American fast food approach of checking up on your table and intruding into conversations to take orders does not apply in Europe. In fact, it is often seen as rude.

The biggest fear I have when it comes to European tables is that, in their home land, the tip is either included in the bill, or is irrelevant (servers are paid a salary or a fixed percentage of sales).

It comes to time to greet the table and I ask what they would like to drink. No joke, a beer and two bottles of water.

Ordering bottled water in a restaurant is a scam unto itself. I will charge you $5.00 for a 12 oz. bottle of water. Yes, it is from Italy, or France or Fiji - but you can easily buy the same bottle at the gas station for $1.49.

Nevertheless, this starts the table off with a $15.00 bill. By the time the food orders were in, the bill came to a firm $141.00.  I had given superior service during the meal. Every fork was placed at the exact correct spot. The food was served in perfect form and I made sure to pour the bottled water into the wine glass as needed. In the end, the meal went well and the head of the three-person table informed me that I had given him the best service he has had since he came to America four years ago. In all honesty, I smiled and thanked him sincerely. In my mind, a verbal tip is really an insult - a fuck you to your face in nicer words. However, he seemed sincere and I appreciated that my work did go noticed. I almost forgot to think about the important thing: the tip.

So, when I delivered the bill to the table, one of the European women rummaged through her ubber-expensive handbag, which was sitting next to her couture jacket... All I saw was a $100 bill, so I knew it was cash payment. I went to the table and she replied "Plis kip the chenge. Th-ank youah so a-much for making this a loovleah meal, sir."

I thanked her back and went onto the back expo after refilling their glasses and removing some butter plates, etc. $200.00, cash - a $59.00 tip on a $141.00 table. A 41% tip only comes so often - cherish it.

 ___

The next night, Wednesday, is also usualy slow. In the case of last night, it was so slow, I had only one table. Again, Europeans, again a three top. They had made a reservation two weeks earlier. I have to tell you, this was one of the most needy tables I have had to work with in a very long time.

It started out with the drinks - they wanted a wine list. Fine. But they also wanted a half a bottle of expensive liquor - no problem. I can sell liquor by the shot, or by volume - 250mL, 500mL or 1L. In this case, they opted for 250mL of liquor - a $60.00 purchase. In addition, they wanted a bottle of wine - $68.00 - no problem. And then the time came for appetizers; the table decided they wanted 7 - yes 7 appetizers. Suspicious, I read the order back -- sure enough a fight broke out in some God-forsaken Third World language and the order was changed - only 3 appetizers -- and the vodka is to come out before the appetizers and the wine along with the appetizers. No, the wine now. No, the wine latter. Ok, fine - everything was worked out. I told the table I would be back in a few minutes with the vodka and and to take the order for the main course. During this time, I sent the bus boy in with glasses of water and bread - and they gave the order to him. Oh well. So the vodka comes out, I pour shots and then the food - followed by dish after dish after dish.

But that's not all, every time I went to the table I feared the next request - some soft drink here - another fork there - a condiment that is not even remotely related to the dish here and another pepper shaker there (don't ask, I have never seen anyone use so much pepper in my life - and don't ask what brown, not yellow, mustard has to do with shrimp, or what potato broth has to do with veal).

In a way, I was relieved this was my only table. They had me running around in every direction for every imaginable item that a restaurant may have - they wanted two candles, but they wanted it lit with a match, not a lighter - extra napkins, different shaped plated and bowls (yes, we had to re-plate the food before they like oval - not round or squared off plates).

By the end of the meal, I brought out the dessert, hot tea and bubble gum (yes, they ordered bubble gum - not Mint gum or Wintergreen gum - bubble gum, thank god I had some). Once these were delivered, I was asked to walk two of the three individuals to the restroom one by one. No, there was nothing wrong with their legs, they were not blind nor illiterate - they just wanted an escort.

All of these fine items were followed by the bill -- $346.00 for three people. In my mind, I would have been happy with $50.00. Them walking through the door was worth far more than money.

Sure enough, I was again happily surprised - $89.00. Another +30% tip. It almost made me feel ok with only having one table for the night. Sometimes, only having one table can be a blessing in disguise - you can devote 100% of your attention to them and have it pay off in dollars and cents.

____

In other news, speaking my piece to management did not go over so well. If anything, it caused a rift between us. Great. More news on my paycheck latter.

First, a word about our European friends: Those of us in the food service industry have our stereotypes, and Europeans fall in the "get away from me" category. Because the food at my particular establishment has European influences, and could be described as Euro-Fusion, we do get many through the doors.

The other night, I had a European one top. This particular fellow was a scruffy, 60-something year old man. He walks in at about 5:00 p.m., an hour before prime-time. He choses a table in a dark corner of the empty restaurant, as if to get away from the non-existent crowds, and make me navigate the entire empty restaurant to get to him.

The man orders an iced-tea - simple enough, and would like a bowl of olives. But, he does not want any old bowl of olives...

Old Man: "I vant a bull of oleefs. Bus, let me ask-a-you: Are zey the natural kind?"

Me: "Well, I'm not sure. What do you mean by natural?"

Old Man: "Do zey comes with daz sids?"

Me: "Sids - sir?"

Old Man: "Yes. Sids in ze mivvle."

Me: "Oh! Seeds in the middle! Yes sir, they are pitted olives."

So, I bring the man a bowl with about 12 olives - green - with pits - from the bar... The old man finishes them and pours the juice into his tea. I suppose he wanted a dirty iced tea up with a lemon...

Old Man: "Ze oleefs vere ok, but zey were not natural."

Me: "Did they taste alright to you? The only other olives we have are turned into pastes by the chief for cooking, and unfortunately I do not have access to them, but I can see what I can do, if you would like, sir."

Old Man: "Vell, I dunt know. But zey vere nut natural."

Me: "Honestly, sir, they come from a jar."

Old Man: "You only leef once. I'll take anuber bull."

Me: "Yes sir."

As the place filled up, the old man quietly ate his seafood dinner ... for 2.5 hours... His bill came to $39 and he left a 50-spot and told me to keep the change. Nice enough man, but I have never had anyone so interested in olives before...

-----------------

Today at lunch, some sort of women's association decided to have lunch at our restaurant. They called two days in advance and reserved a table for 11. The women, all middle aged with an old-foggey mixed in the bunch arrive at the same time and are escorted to their table.

They arrive one by one and begin to chit-chat, dissecting everything from our lighting, menu font, chair foam thickness and my tie.

Just as everyone is seated, a 12th individual arrives. The busboys and I busily make room for her by adding a table on to their already elongated 3-table chain-link.

Two women order wine, some others iced tea. I bring them their drinks while they devour the bread and butter as if they had not eaten in weeks.

Finally, it comes time to order. Despite 11 women ravenously devouring five baskets of bread, upon ordering, all but 4 order egregiously cheap lunches. Two only order a bowl of $7.50 soup and water. Finally, the salads arrive for 4 of the women (the four who ordered actual lunches, not just a few side items). The other women bitched that they wanted salad and it's not right for me to serve some people salad but not others.

Two women comment that the salads do not taste right. "Is there a problem?" I ask. "Yes, it tastes too fresh..." Well, we all know where this is heading. Sorry, we don't use preservatives. So, the women dump salt on their salad to remind them of Applebea's of McDonald's or some other processed food factory. The soup was too hot (ugh!) and the wine glasses too heavy (???) and the door is ugly, can we change the color of the glass from clear to "something pastel?" Yes, this is in my control. I am also asked if I will give them a group discount (we do have group discounts on parties of 30 or more without alcohol and 20 or more if they are ordering from the bar, but not for 12, sorry). "But we have 20 people in our club!" Well, where are they?

Meanwhile, Miss Piggy, eater of 2 baskets of bread, while ordering a second glass of wine and taking her first bite of salad looks up and says, "Would you ladies like a salad? I am sure he can bring more out."

I remind the women only full lunches come with salad, but I can have more made rather quickly for $6 each. The women look like they have just witnessed a ghost walk in the restaurant and decline the offer.

Two other women order wine and the meal is served. I notice one women did not receive food - I check back to the expo and notice that it is empty. I run out to her and apologize... her meal is taking longer than expected to cook..blah blah blah. Her table mate explains that she is very very hungry and wants it now - Sure, I would be happy to serve her raw meat. No, really, I would!

The chief cries out a certain expletive and the meal is delivered about 7 minutes late. Miss Piggy, now on her third wine, is finished with her lamb and sampling other dishes. With a mouth full of food she asks for SEPARATE CHECKS!!!!!

***NOTE: Separate checks are the worst thing EVER to ask for when eating out. I would rather follow you to the bathroom and wipe your ass than split your check. It takes too much time and effort.

I explained to the women that the policy, as it is written on the menu, is that I cannot split a check more than 2-ways, but I would be happy to run multiple credit cards for various amounts.

No. They each wanted their own itemized bill.

"Sorry, but ---" My manager interrupts. "Of course, we would be happy to split the ticket any way you would like."

Fuck me.

Just as Miss Piggy thanks the manager for the separate checks, a 4 top of some of my best and most loyal costumers sit down, asking for my section. They walked in off the street a few weeks ago and have been coming to us about once per week either for dinner or lunch since. They are two couples who tip well and are very friendly.

I great them and have a busboy take their drink orders. I apologize that the table next-door is giving me the run around, and I might be planted at the computer for about 10 minutes. If they need anything, let someone know and I will bring it for them, and I will send out an appetizer on the house for the inconvenience (I am allowed to comp so much food per day for to compensate for these situations - usually about $20 - $30 per $1,000 in sales). Usually, I don't use these comps, but for loyal costumers (2x/week + and 19% + tippers), I will often send out a free desert or small appetizer just because... You spend $7.00 and you make a lot more in return - business is business.

After some time, I split their check. The 12 women spent a whopping $190.00 and leave me a collective $28.18 - three of whom tipped me in change - one left $2.84 in coinage. Think of all the sodas and candy bars I can buy from machines this weekend!!

The women, of course, complained that it look me 16 minutes to divide the checks. I explain what splitting checks entails and why it takes so long, and thus why we have our policy. I explain we made an exeption, but understand the amount of time needed to split checks is why our policy exists as it does.

"But, it's all computerized." One woman reminds me. The concept is lost on her.

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After work today, I decided to go on an excursion.

A friend of mine told me about snuff he uses for work. It's small, minty and spitless. Because busy nights hinder one's ability to engage in nicotine goodness, especially when it is needed the most, I decided this might be a worthwhile use of my money.

The first 3 gas stations did not carry it. So, Hell bent to find this stuff, I decided to hit up every store in sight. 19th time is a charm...

And now to enjoy my evening off...

Scammers, part III will focus on the impact of scammers on the restaurant industry as well as its employees.  In the perfect world, you sit down, order, eat, pay and tip and leave promptly unless you "paid" to camp out (many individuals will tip very generously if they intend to stay far past their meal-time). However, many individuals, as we have discussed at length, have realized that by bending the rules, they can scam the establishment out of product and/or money.

Often, I am asked to void or take items off a ticket or access other areas of my POS (point of sale computer system) that I do not have access to. Once you order an item, I am unable to remove or alter it. I need the general manager to "void" the item (most restaurants give this power to any manager).

The reason for this is two-fold. If friends of mine walk in, I could theoretically send hundreds of dollars worth of food and bar orders out, but not charge full price. However, most managers will tell you the real threat is patrons making hasty demands on servers. If given the power, the server would be able to bend to the whim of the costumer in a way that severely hurts the pocketbook of the restaurant.

There is far more competition in the food service industry than ever before. I am sure you can think of 10 new places in your area that have opened in the past 6 months, and 10 more that have gone out of business or moved to another location.

With this competition comes a desire, almost  paranoid fear, of keeping the guest happy. If it were legal, some managers would have servers help wipe the asses of our patrons when they journey to the restroom.

Because  of the competition, management does not want to say "no" to, or piss-off the patron in any way. Guests are not stupid and many take advantage of the score. They know their every desire, no matter how irrational, stupid or costly will be met. So, patrons demand and demand and demand until they have gotten more than their fair share - corporate and/ or the owner(s) see this as a way to get people back through the door.

In the perfect world, the manager would scold parents of misbehaving children. But the threat of parents being too offended to grace the door frame again is too daunting. We would love to say, "Sorry you don't like it, but you ate it and you have to pay" but that's telling the costumer "no."

Despite this, everyone makes mistakes, and often, we do have to void items off of our tickets. I spend over an hour per week finding or waiting on manager  to correct a problem.

In my current establishment, I cannot send open food or drink orders. In other words, I cannot ring-up anything that is not on the menu. I need a manager for this. The reason is simple - go back to my "oyster and shrimp sandwich" story. Restaurants want to control what goes out of the kitchen and bar as much as possible. At my current place of work, this is Hell, as costumers often order specific dishes or add-ons unique from the menu.

Although scammers cost us time and money we don't have or want to spend, the fear of losing business is enough to keep us saying "yes." It's a vicious little cycle - you scam, and we keep giving in.

Unfortunately, I don't have the time nor energy to post tonight. I'm far too tired and want to try for 5 hours of sleep.

So, I will leave you with a teaser: fuzzy math.

Tonight was slow. Dinner on Tuesday tends to be on the slow side. Anyway, I had three tables (PS this is at the 4 1/2 star place)... 2 top, $142.00; 3 top $153.00 and 3 top $148.00.

$142.00 ticket leaves me $30.00

$153.00 ticket leave me $30.00

$148.00 ticket leaves me $17.00

Now, I know what you're thinking: table three sucks - and yes, despite A+++ service, they do. BUT, let's look at it a different way:

In sum, I made 17% overall tip on total sales.

17% of $150.00 is about $25.50. This means, if each table left $25.50, every server would be satisfied. However, because one table left 11.3%, the server would call it a bad night. It's all perception. Either way, I would have made $77.00 in tips, which would have been fine on $450.00 in sales. But, because one table "stiffed" me, the night is viewed poorly. Any thoughts??

Computers should make the scam impossible, but high turn over in today's establishments (and many other industries) means wait staffs are often less educated about the menu and specific company procedures than they should be, or at least were, in times gone by.

The most common scam is menu manipulation. Here, the costumer takes advantage of lack of menu knowledge, or our inherent inability to say "no" to get free food.

Example:

A few months ago, at lunch, a costumer ordered a fried oyster sandwich. The sandwich itself is very big, very good, and only $8.00. A la carte, an order of mini-fried shrimp would cost you $3.50. This costumer got smart,
"I want the fried oyster sandwich, but instead of fries, I want fried shrimp, and I want the shrimp on the sandwich."

Shrimp are more expensive than fries. An order of fries costs about 15 cents; shrimp about $1.25. If everyone made this substition, the restaurant would not make a profit on this menu item. If you want to substitute, ok fine, but understand you will be charged. By adding three bucks to the bill, I may get an extra 50 cents, if anything, insofar as tip - in other words, I could care less if you eat baby panda bears on your sub, but my boss does care.

I have also seen costumers ask for extra chicken on a cobb salad, and give it to their kid as a meal to save money (kid's meal is $4 or $5, but extra chicken is free).

Servers care simply because it means doing extra work with the net result of smaller sales, and, over time, a smaller tip. This is is in addition to managers asking 20 questions every time a modified menu item leaves the expo.

Often times, guests will argue they did not receive a part of their order. A few weeks ago, at FamilyFunTime, a woman insisted her order come with a side of steamed veggies (sauted in heavy butter and oil). It did not. This side is available, for $2.95. Again, I'm not too worried about three dollars, but my manager is. I can't bring food out of the expo without a ticket, and I will not risk my job because you made a pouty face.

And now for my favorite scam - and the funniest!!

The funniest scam is something I like to call "Homemade Lemonade." On more than one occasion, I have had the costumer (almost always a white, middle aged man) brag about this genius way to save $2.00. It reminds me of something a homeless drug addict would do.

Here's how it works: Even though I have lemonade, with free refills, on the fountain for around $2, some innovative individuals decide 15 minutes of their time (and mine) is worth far less than two One-spots.

The scammer will order a glass of tap water (free), 8 or 9 lemon wedges, and extra sugar (free, free, free). He will proceed to squeeze the juice out of every lemon and then pour 8 - 10 sugar packets into the glass. Let's ignore the giant citrus mess and endless trips to the kitchen and expo and store room our friend has sent me. By the end of this cheap-skate scam, the gentleman, a la Fred Mertz of "I Love Lucy" fame, has created a free soft drink. Many restaurants score servers on the amount of liquid sales they achieve (a Diet Coke or Iced Tea, even with three refills, still reflects a $1.50 profit, and liquor is liquid money). Although I do not expect our friend the scammer of knowing or caring about such policies, it would be nice if he cleaned his own mess or at least took our countless trip to the lemon bin in account when leaving his gratuity.

Greasy Chicken scam

A while back, I was sat a table with the quintessential 21st century nuclear family. Remember, these tables, though harmless at first, are often scammers. I guess when the second itty-witty-bitty-childwen popped out, Mommy and Daddy's wallet weren't ready for another mouth to feed - so they come to my table.

This family included the Mom, 35 lbs. overweight, poor bleach job, wearing way way too tight skimpy clothes - and a $5,000 necklace and matching tennis bracelet. The Dad, emailing via Blackberry the entire time, and the bratty kids who bang their silverware on the the table and spill their drinks, sauces, food, menus, my dignity, all over the booth and floor. Usually, this behavior is undertaken by children under the age of five. These kids seemed a bit old to be reviewing the kid's menu, which clearly states "for 7 and under." If I had to guess, I would put the children's ages at 8 and 11.

So, it comes time to order... This was the foreshadowing of a bad table... The bratty children, banging anything they can find in their comfy Pleather booth, in unison, sing "We - want - chick - en - fin - gers, we - want - chick - en - fin - gers." As much as I appreciate a musical review of the kiddie menu, a song and dance number was not needed.

"Well," Daddy Blackberry replied, "My princesses have spoken, they will have the children's chicken fingers." No shit Sherlock.

So, the chicken fingers arrive, dripping with oil and God knows what else - the product of the blood, sweat and tears of America's most surly and lazy illegal immigrants. About 60 seconds after the food arrives, I check up asking how everything tastes.

The little Princess Brats put on their finest pouty face, a move their mother duplicates. I am sure she has already begun teaching her little crum-crunchers how to seem distressed, in hopes of finding that dashingly rich husband of tomorrow, or at least some free chicken.
The father looks up from his Blackberry. "We have eaten here before and the kids' chicken had more chicken last time. Are you trying to rip off my daughters? What kind of scam are you running here?" Yea, right sir, who is scamming whom?

"This isn't enough chicken - " I try to interrupt with some phony canned 'I'm sorry, I will see what I can do' routine.

I am pretty sure he mentioned that the dish is not worth the $3.00 he is expected to pay. You can't get much for $3.00 anymore, let alone a meal fit for a prince(s).

Before I can do anything, in my hands, I feel some greasy, slimy fried chicken... No Way!! The man handed me the chicken nuggets! He then demands I show them to my manager (my pleasure). He then asks me to bring a toy, or some extra crayons for the kids while they wait for "me to get it right."

With the chicken still in hand, I drop off some crayons and state "I am not the cook. The chicken nuggets are frozen and pre-weighed at some central wholesale food distributer and I cannot control the portions. I would be happy to put in three more orders of chicken fingers."

I decided to be firm. No way am I comping their two kiddie meals, despite the noticeable problem of them being in my hands and not on the kids' plate. Moreover, if they want food, they can pay for it. It's not my fault $6 worth of fried dark-meat was handed to me.

Of course, the manager catches wind of this and brings over a big basket of chicken nuggets, free of charge. I was told that he brought THREE portions of kid's chicken nuggets.

Oh, here is the irony!

When it came time for the check, I commented, "Well, after all of that and they couldn't clean their plates! Maybe two orders was enough after all." Any time time I can get the last word in, especially when it's a fuck you to your face, I am happy.

The family wanted free chicken, and crayons, and a toy (what is this, Burger King???) - and Mr Blackberry wasn't too interested in paying for entertainment. Just because you think you have cute kids doesn't mean I care - don't expect free stuff because you forgot to wear a condom a few years ago...

Some observations: First, the portions are small - but the chicken nuggets, with drink, are $3.59. Your kids are a little too old for this menu. Second, handing me greasy chicken is only going to make me want to throw them at you, not resolve the problem. Third, pouty faces don't work on me - I get at least one per day. They're just stupid. Don't do it!

A simple and very ineffective scam is the "I didn't order this" scam.

Jerry Seinfeld, in an earlier episode, describes going out to eat. Everyone is jovial and "more" is the only word you know. And then, the bill comes in a little black book - it's the "story of your meal." Everyone looks around; they are sure they did not get what they are being charged for.

I may be busy, but yes, you did order that second margarita - no, we don't upgrade to Patron for free. No ma'am, Patron is NOT the well tequila. Yes sir, your son did order chicken on his salad and he did get chicken on his salad. These are all questions I have been asked when the bill arrives.

Finally, the "I didn't like it scam." If your food is wrong or bad, tell me after you have had 2 or 3, or even 5 or 6 bites, and I will send it back to the kitchen. Don't finish your entire plate and then demand it free because it wasn't right - sorry! I am not a soup kitchen, if you eat it, you bought it.

A few months ago, a couple all ghetto-fied out in fake designer sunglasses, handbags and jeans decided to go out and celebrate. The girlfriend, wearing a rubber band for a top with Doir (that is, to be confused with Dior) sunglasses on her head demanded a new Hurricane. A Hurricane costs $8.00, I am aware. If the bartender made it wrong, I will have him re-do it, for free. But, when I serve you a 12 oz. glass filled with liquor and you give me an all but empty glass and say "it was too sweet. Make me a new one and I ain't payin' because this one wrong [sic.];" don't be surprised when I charge you. The bartender that night was an idiot and fairly incompetent bartender. I agree. But, don't swallow down $6.92 worth of booze and demand a free re-fill, sans sugar. In the end, my manager overheard the complaint and comped a free drink from the bar (thus telling me to charge for the first drink, but comp the second).

The table was happy with the second drink - a free Patron Margarita on the Rocks - an $11.00 concoction. Needless to say, the man pulled the "I didn't order no salad" scam (yes sir, you did - Don't you remember? I had to bring you not one, not two, not three, but four re-fills of blue cheese dressing!). PS, leaving $5.00 on your $63.00 tab is real classy, kind of like your Doir shades. I'm sure your Little Kim wanna-be girl was impressed by your mad tipping skills and Green Dot Master Card.

In the next day or two, I will post Scammers, Part III. In part 3, I will detail how scamming has changed the restaurant industry and the outlook of the restaurant guest. Warming: I have a double-shift for the next 139,084 days, so I hope to have the post up ASAP. However, don't yell and scream if it is more than 48 hours between updates.

In the B-Rate Sigourney Weaver/ Jennifer Hewitt** movie Heartbreakers, a mother/ daughter team scam unsuspecting rich men into marriage only to divorce within days and take half their money. Along the way, the pair of nit-wits run a minor scam or two on the side. When eating out, Weaver's character brings a small vile of glass shards and pours them onto her dish, then insisting to speak with the manager. Any spineless manager, afraid of lawsuits, or worse, a costumers not coming back, would do the same: comp the meal (And I'm sure women like this leave 20% on the value of their meal, too!). This is an example, though slightly far fetched, of a restaurant scammer. Remember the finger in the chili scam at Wendy's? Same thing.

**(You may be thinking, "but every Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Hewitt movie was B-Rate or worse." You would be correct!)

All too often, guests decided to manipulate the system to score a free salad or save $5.00. In my experiences, scammers come in all shapes and sizes. They are of all races, though noticeably, black women (NOT a racial slur, but a verifiable observation) are most likely to scam a waiter/manager/ restaurant. Note: black women rarely want money taken off their bill, they just want extra food/alcohol they did not order for free. Families with small children are the number two culprit followed by yokels and then finally, foreigners. Perhaps it is a culture of entitlement, ego, poverty, or dishonesty, but these crooks seem to come out of the woodwork and show up at my tables at least once per night.

Running a scam is simple enough: You claim you didn't like your food (even if it's 3/4 eaten), didn't receive what you ordered (you did, but you want more for free) or claim certain items come with certain sides which you did not receive. Sometimes, scammers, will complain at length to a manager in hopes of a comped meal. Other times, they will simply leave before it's time to pay. But the most common type of scam is manipulating the menu to get more bang for your buck (this is a fun one!).

I will elaborate in Part II on the types of scams and how they are run. We will cover the "I didn't like it"scam, the "this is not what I ordered" scam and the "Dine and Dash" and the Menu Manipulation scam. Each will be have a detailed explanation and anecdote. I'll try my best to get Part II up tonight, but it might be tomorrow afternoon.

At the new job, the European joint we will call Eurofood (to ensure anonymous posting), business is slow, but picking up. The restaurant opened in the middle of the week, and costumers are starting to trickle in. Many ate at one of the neighboring restaurants and drop in for a drink or six at our bar.

My bosses are wonderful people. It's the first time I have enjoyed more than 4 seconds talking to a GM.

Right now, there is only one other server. Mind you, over 10 have been hired, however, only two of us are working right now while business picks up. The other guy is an absolute nightmare. He's condessending, rude, and picks fights with everyone.

He's the type who lecture you on how to do your job while ignoring his own. He complains that his tips are poor (around 11%) and wonders why. He will ignore his tables while he lectures the dish washer on proper scrubbing techniques. This behavior has already caused him to be banned from the expo area by the executive chief. He also feels he doesn't need to tip out the bar or bus because they are "unnecessary" jobs.

Today, he dropped and broke some very expensive crystal all over a woman sitting at a 7 top (a table running up a $1,300.00 ticket, by the way!) I laughed and laughed! The world's best server dropped sharp glass all over a 60 year old woman nibbling on caviar!

After being scolded on Wednesday, I finally took the time to know the menu inside and out. "Know thy menu" is the third commandment in waiting tables. It hit me Friday, when I was complimented by the owners and E.C. that I now know the menu (full 4 course meals from $75 - $200), I realized I am the only front of the house employee who knows the menu, let alone the POS (Point of Sale) computer.

The bussers are A++ and I have been tipping them out very well. Although we are slow, I make about the same money here as I do in the casual dinning restaurant - serving 4 tables instead of 15 to make the same money. Once business picks up, I will need a wheelbarrow to carry my money in. This is every server's dream.

Speaking of tipping out, I do about 10% of my tips to the wine stewards and 10% to my bus boy. At ShitHole Family Cafe, the POS tells us how much we have to tip out - 3.5% of our sales; 1.5 to the bar and 1% each to bussers and host.

On Thursday, I worked lunch, and we were without bussers or a hostess. However, I still had to surrender 3.5% of my $120.00 sales (slow slow day, but I made $34.00 in tips, so that made up for the lack of costumers in some senses). This means I paid $4.00 of my $34.00 and left with $30.00. No big deal right? It's only 4 clams... BUT WAIT!! There was no busboy on duty, no hostess .... Who is getting that $2.40? It doesn't sound like a lot, but if you had to surrender $10.00 a week - that's $520.00 per year to a non-existant person (other than the IRS, a matter for a different post), you would be calling the state faster than you can say "check please."

I brought this up with the manager. I was told that the restaurant is all about "Team Work" and I shouldn't complain about 2 smackers. However, I really want to know who gets my $2.40. I spend 35 hours per week being degraded, patronized and abused by my GM and manager, let along the costumers, all for very little money. I want my damn two bucks! I was told he will "look into it" which is code for "I'm pocketing everyone's $2.40 this afternoon."

On Monday, I am going to give two week's notice and focus only on my new job. I will be scheduled for a 50 hour week (which in due time will mean $1400/week). As a result, I have little time to myself. In the past 3 weeks, I have only had 2 days off. My next day off is 9/19, and believe me, I am counting the seconds...