Thursday, November 10, 2011
Friday, February 26, 2010
No harm, no fowl
MANDY:
As Katie mentioned, I am currently substitute teaching. However, when I saw my first pay check, I realized after simple calculations that I was making less than minimum wage. I took a deep breathe and prepared myself for the inevitable realization that I needed to get a second job…
I first entered the restaurant world in 2003 as a hostess for Oggi’s Pizza & Brewery, and in college I worked at Applebee’s. I’m sure Katie will agree that the unbelievable experiences and people we encountered made us alarmingly….aware. Aware that most people suck. Yes, I was more than a little naïve, but waitressing served its purpose: disillusionment.
Aside from my brother and his friends, I had several regulars. Some I liked more than others. A high school golf team from Canada came through Cleveland quite often and always stopped to see me. In fact, I don’t know how, but I always seemed to meet Canadians while I worked at Applebee’s. They left great tips. Speaking of great tippers, I must mention my dearest regular, Steve, who would tip me at least fifty to a hundred percent. Unfortunately, most customers think that being kind to their waiter suffices as a tip. It is alarming to me how many individuals don’t know how to tip. What I love especially is when guys leave their phone number and a ten percent tip, or ask for your phone number and explain that they only have enough cash to cover the bill. Yeah.
Thus, when I graduated college, I swore to myself that I would never again become a food service slave. I can hear that French pigeon from An American Tail in my head, singing, “Never say never, whatttevver you do.”
Last night was my first night of training at Tokyo, a Hibachi and sushi restaurant where tips are shared, but whatever, I need the money and no one else is hiring. Getting sushi at discount wasn’t a determining factor at all. A couple came in with their daughter. He orders a Budweiser, and she a frozen margarita. Alright! No problem. I bring the beer out and explain that it will be a short wait for her margarita. The man responds, rudely, “Why?” I say, “Well, dumbass, a frozen margarita is a mixed drink which entails preparation unlike your bottle of booze.” No, I didn’t say that. I said, sweetly, “Our bartender is swamped, but I assure you she will have it out as soon as possible.” Next, he orders the Tokyo Special with 10 extra shrimp. I say to him, “There are only 6 shrimp in a side order. Would you like to have two orders and have 12?” To this he replies, loudly, “What the HELL?! I always get ten shrimp.” Anyways, shortly after that the kitchen ran out off eggs for the fried rice and they left at the news, not without making a scene, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Kim own Tokyo and tonight Mr. Kim was at their other restaurant. Mrs. Kim is a little waif of a woman and barely speaks English, but her appearance shouldn’t fool you because she is constantly pointing and making demands which you can’t understand. So the couple asks to speak to the owner, and after this bitchy woman bullied Mrs. Kim to her satisfaction, they left to “go get Jack-in-the-Box.”
Katie’s experience in the food industry was for a longer duration…
KATIE:
Amanda, I have to applaud your sarcasm in the last post. I am truly proud. But what the hell is An American Tale and why are you quoting a French pigeon? And why would a movie with the title, “An American Tale” feature French animals? I am completely at a loss here.
Yes, I worked in the restaurant industry for about six years. I consider the customers I used to wait on to be about the same caliber of human being as the criminals I will be arresting in the coming years. There were exceptions, of course, but the literal comparison between the two types of individuals is uncanny. Allow me to explain my reasoning with the following points.
1) Customers always are looking to get something for free. Larceny, robbery, embezzlement, anyone? Go ahead and eat 80% of you meal then complain it was terrible to the manager. Bring in fake coupons/bills/receipts and try to pass them off for free food. Pretend you’re smoking outside and make a run for your car. Karma, baby. I hope God strikes you down with a lightning bolt.
2) I dealt with drunks as a waitress and guess what? I deal with even more drunks now. Once I even had a woman request a to-go cup for her beer. Yes, ma’am, I will certainly risk losing my job, being sued, and assist you in killing yourself on your drive home.
3) Addicts keep coming back for more. They cannot resist. Sweet tea is the equivalent of crack cocaine. There was a woman (who weighed, eh, close to 400 lbs.) that I called, “the sweet tea lady.” Not creative, but I could spot her a mile away. Literally. She would come into the restaurant and sit at a low table near the bar. I do believe this is because she didn’t quite fit in a booth. Without fail she would order a sweet tea with raspberry syrup and before I could walk away from the table she had downed the entire glass. She would run my butt off re-filling her tea for hours at a time and leave me a dollar for my trouble. Oh, and the caloric content in the massive amounts of tea must have tripled that of the low-fat food items she often ordered. Great diet plan.
4) I made no money waitressing. I make no money as a cop. People are cheap, cheap, cheap. You have no idea the sheer number of customers who order all-you-can-eat ribs and split them. Then, they order a to-go box and attempt to feed their family for a week. I’m certain Crapplebee’s- I mean- Applebee’s loses money when they feature that promotion. Furthermore, servers make about 2 to 4 dollars an hour. All of their living comes from the money they earn from the service they provide you. 20% is now the norm. If you can’t afford it then go to Mickey D’s.
5) And lastly in the list of comparisons: Customers treat you like crap. Criminals treat you like crap. The lack of manners displayed by the average Joe entering a restaurant is something I have always found astounding. There is something about having the power to control your food purchase while determining the amount of money your waiter makes that turns everyday people into raging psychopaths. They lose all sense of propriety, barking orders and demanding their every whim be satisfied. I’m all about making the customer happy, but grabbing waitresses’ butts, cursing them out because the kitchen is out of boneless wings, or stiffing them on a tip is never okay. Get control of your home life and stop trying to take out your anger on the wait staff. It’s monstrous. And guys, here’s a tip: writing your phone number out in sugar packets on the table and foregoing leaving cash will get you nowhere. It’s like being a criminal scum in the cesspool of society. One day you will wind up very, very lonely and surrounded by men who are most likely losers like you. It’ll be bubba or nothing. Take your pick.
As Katie mentioned, I am currently substitute teaching. However, when I saw my first pay check, I realized after simple calculations that I was making less than minimum wage. I took a deep breathe and prepared myself for the inevitable realization that I needed to get a second job…
I first entered the restaurant world in 2003 as a hostess for Oggi’s Pizza & Brewery, and in college I worked at Applebee’s. I’m sure Katie will agree that the unbelievable experiences and people we encountered made us alarmingly….aware. Aware that most people suck. Yes, I was more than a little naïve, but waitressing served its purpose: disillusionment.
Aside from my brother and his friends, I had several regulars. Some I liked more than others. A high school golf team from Canada came through Cleveland quite often and always stopped to see me. In fact, I don’t know how, but I always seemed to meet Canadians while I worked at Applebee’s. They left great tips. Speaking of great tippers, I must mention my dearest regular, Steve, who would tip me at least fifty to a hundred percent. Unfortunately, most customers think that being kind to their waiter suffices as a tip. It is alarming to me how many individuals don’t know how to tip. What I love especially is when guys leave their phone number and a ten percent tip, or ask for your phone number and explain that they only have enough cash to cover the bill. Yeah.
Thus, when I graduated college, I swore to myself that I would never again become a food service slave. I can hear that French pigeon from An American Tail in my head, singing, “Never say never, whatttevver you do.”
Last night was my first night of training at Tokyo, a Hibachi and sushi restaurant where tips are shared, but whatever, I need the money and no one else is hiring. Getting sushi at discount wasn’t a determining factor at all. A couple came in with their daughter. He orders a Budweiser, and she a frozen margarita. Alright! No problem. I bring the beer out and explain that it will be a short wait for her margarita. The man responds, rudely, “Why?” I say, “Well, dumbass, a frozen margarita is a mixed drink which entails preparation unlike your bottle of booze.” No, I didn’t say that. I said, sweetly, “Our bartender is swamped, but I assure you she will have it out as soon as possible.” Next, he orders the Tokyo Special with 10 extra shrimp. I say to him, “There are only 6 shrimp in a side order. Would you like to have two orders and have 12?” To this he replies, loudly, “What the HELL?! I always get ten shrimp.” Anyways, shortly after that the kitchen ran out off eggs for the fried rice and they left at the news, not without making a scene, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Kim own Tokyo and tonight Mr. Kim was at their other restaurant. Mrs. Kim is a little waif of a woman and barely speaks English, but her appearance shouldn’t fool you because she is constantly pointing and making demands which you can’t understand. So the couple asks to speak to the owner, and after this bitchy woman bullied Mrs. Kim to her satisfaction, they left to “go get Jack-in-the-Box.”
Katie’s experience in the food industry was for a longer duration…
KATIE:
Amanda, I have to applaud your sarcasm in the last post. I am truly proud. But what the hell is An American Tale and why are you quoting a French pigeon? And why would a movie with the title, “An American Tale” feature French animals? I am completely at a loss here.
Yes, I worked in the restaurant industry for about six years. I consider the customers I used to wait on to be about the same caliber of human being as the criminals I will be arresting in the coming years. There were exceptions, of course, but the literal comparison between the two types of individuals is uncanny. Allow me to explain my reasoning with the following points.
1) Customers always are looking to get something for free. Larceny, robbery, embezzlement, anyone? Go ahead and eat 80% of you meal then complain it was terrible to the manager. Bring in fake coupons/bills/receipts and try to pass them off for free food. Pretend you’re smoking outside and make a run for your car. Karma, baby. I hope God strikes you down with a lightning bolt.
2) I dealt with drunks as a waitress and guess what? I deal with even more drunks now. Once I even had a woman request a to-go cup for her beer. Yes, ma’am, I will certainly risk losing my job, being sued, and assist you in killing yourself on your drive home.
3) Addicts keep coming back for more. They cannot resist. Sweet tea is the equivalent of crack cocaine. There was a woman (who weighed, eh, close to 400 lbs.) that I called, “the sweet tea lady.” Not creative, but I could spot her a mile away. Literally. She would come into the restaurant and sit at a low table near the bar. I do believe this is because she didn’t quite fit in a booth. Without fail she would order a sweet tea with raspberry syrup and before I could walk away from the table she had downed the entire glass. She would run my butt off re-filling her tea for hours at a time and leave me a dollar for my trouble. Oh, and the caloric content in the massive amounts of tea must have tripled that of the low-fat food items she often ordered. Great diet plan.
4) I made no money waitressing. I make no money as a cop. People are cheap, cheap, cheap. You have no idea the sheer number of customers who order all-you-can-eat ribs and split them. Then, they order a to-go box and attempt to feed their family for a week. I’m certain Crapplebee’s- I mean- Applebee’s loses money when they feature that promotion. Furthermore, servers make about 2 to 4 dollars an hour. All of their living comes from the money they earn from the service they provide you. 20% is now the norm. If you can’t afford it then go to Mickey D’s.
5) And lastly in the list of comparisons: Customers treat you like crap. Criminals treat you like crap. The lack of manners displayed by the average Joe entering a restaurant is something I have always found astounding. There is something about having the power to control your food purchase while determining the amount of money your waiter makes that turns everyday people into raging psychopaths. They lose all sense of propriety, barking orders and demanding their every whim be satisfied. I’m all about making the customer happy, but grabbing waitresses’ butts, cursing them out because the kitchen is out of boneless wings, or stiffing them on a tip is never okay. Get control of your home life and stop trying to take out your anger on the wait staff. It’s monstrous. And guys, here’s a tip: writing your phone number out in sugar packets on the table and foregoing leaving cash will get you nowhere. It’s like being a criminal scum in the cesspool of society. One day you will wind up very, very lonely and surrounded by men who are most likely losers like you. It’ll be bubba or nothing. Take your pick.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Our Introduction
Mandy: With all this newfound time on my hands, I decided what better way to invest my time than create a blog? A blog -some tangible piece of evidence for err, myself so that this stint of time spent in the middle-of-nowhere, TX need not be in vain, and not only to myself will I be accountable, but to the wide expanse of cyberspace and the plethora of people who will undoubtedly marvel at my currently humdrum life. Accountable for what you could ask? Well, for pushing my thoughts to the outermost edges of my mind in hope that I will create new boundaries to challenge, of course.
I was always afraid to blog, even after a roommate encouraged me to do so and praised my writing skills (thanks Lindsey), because though I am contemplative much of the time and enjoy personal journaling, I felt having any direction in my writing would elude me. With that being said, I realized that embarking on this journey called for a companion. With that, let me introduce you to the oh-so-talented, Katherine Mary.
Katie is my cousin and best friend, my sister. Even though Katie and I grew up in two markedly different geographical locations (she in Ohio and I on the West Coast), we were always close. We spent summers together in Ohio watching fireworks on the 4TH of July at Firestone Park, cherry-bombing on the teeter-totter in her backyard, and catching fireflies on dusky warm nights. Sure, when we put on circuses in the backyard she made me the clown, complete with face paint and a pink leotard, but I forgave her. In 2004, Katie graduated high school and started college at Lee University in Tennessee. Graduating a year later, as much as I wanted to stay in my Golden State, I knew that I would join her there in the South, the land of sweet tea and everything fried. Even though we are now both graduates (how time flies!) and living in different states, we are forever close at heart. Katie is my role model and confidant, my shoulder to cry on. She is currently finishing up basic law enforcement training to become a special agent and lives out in North Carolina. However, this training is a piece-of-cake in comparison to the previous 12-week boot camp she endured. Katie is the perfect mixture of feminine and fierce. She is my encourager and sounding board, my fellow lover of poetry.
I’d introduce myself, but I’ll leave that to Katie.
So, if you can’t appreciate or understand sarcasm, I would recommend you forego Katie’s posts, and if you enjoy coherent thoughts, I’m sorry, but I can’t promise any form of continuity in mine. I hope our words evoke in you, the reader, emotion or thought, which is, I believe, the point of all correspondence.
Katie: Oh, Lord. I am now officially a blogger. When Mandy texted me and asked me to start this up with her, she was too excited for me to say no. It would have been the equivalent of stealing a kid’s candy or microwaving a kitten. The unthinkable.
To start, I have to clarify a few points. Number one: Mandy is prone to puffery. Thank you Mandy for the flattering introduction, but I am not a perfect combination of anything and certainly have never been described as fierce. Number two: she was completely on point with the fact that you should avoid me at all costs if you dislike sarcasm. Number three: Yes, I admit that I tortured Mandy as a child, but in all fairness, my older sister tortured me. Mandy then turned on her younger brother Steven. This cycle of persecution would have just kept going, except for the fact that Steven really had no one old enough around to pick on. Thus, Steven is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, though I think he may have a bit of a twitch. He flinches easily. I will have to find an old circus picture to post at some point. The pink leotard was hilarious. My only regret is that we never forced Steven to wear it.
Moving on… Mandy, or Amanda Hope, is my little cousin/sister/head-in-the-clouds other half. She is difficult to describe, but I would say she is the ditziest smart person I’ve ever met. When she walks into a room she meets and becomes friends with every person there within 5 minutes. She is genuine, though, and has a huge heart. She currently substitute teaches kids of all ages and used to work with a teenage boy with autism during college. She is patient. Ha-ha, I am not.
That said, we balance each other out. We enjoy a lot of the same things, like little-known coffee shops and understanding foreign cultures and discovering new bands. Wow- I just re-read that and please allow me to clarify: I am not emo. Not that Mandy is, either, but she’s a little closer to that side of the spectrum. She enjoys being herself, and if that includes headbands bedazzled with feathers and drinking bubble tea then I say more power to her. She turned me on to the writing of Stephanie Meyer, and for that I am eternally grateful… Yes, I like vampires.
So the downside of the balance is that we sometimes fight like siblings because we rarely see eye-to-eye. You’ll see. Or at least the one reader that I know we have will see. (Hi, Scottie.) And I guess you’re officially introduced.
I was always afraid to blog, even after a roommate encouraged me to do so and praised my writing skills (thanks Lindsey), because though I am contemplative much of the time and enjoy personal journaling, I felt having any direction in my writing would elude me. With that being said, I realized that embarking on this journey called for a companion. With that, let me introduce you to the oh-so-talented, Katherine Mary.
Katie is my cousin and best friend, my sister. Even though Katie and I grew up in two markedly different geographical locations (she in Ohio and I on the West Coast), we were always close. We spent summers together in Ohio watching fireworks on the 4TH of July at Firestone Park, cherry-bombing on the teeter-totter in her backyard, and catching fireflies on dusky warm nights. Sure, when we put on circuses in the backyard she made me the clown, complete with face paint and a pink leotard, but I forgave her. In 2004, Katie graduated high school and started college at Lee University in Tennessee. Graduating a year later, as much as I wanted to stay in my Golden State, I knew that I would join her there in the South, the land of sweet tea and everything fried. Even though we are now both graduates (how time flies!) and living in different states, we are forever close at heart. Katie is my role model and confidant, my shoulder to cry on. She is currently finishing up basic law enforcement training to become a special agent and lives out in North Carolina. However, this training is a piece-of-cake in comparison to the previous 12-week boot camp she endured. Katie is the perfect mixture of feminine and fierce. She is my encourager and sounding board, my fellow lover of poetry.
I’d introduce myself, but I’ll leave that to Katie.
So, if you can’t appreciate or understand sarcasm, I would recommend you forego Katie’s posts, and if you enjoy coherent thoughts, I’m sorry, but I can’t promise any form of continuity in mine. I hope our words evoke in you, the reader, emotion or thought, which is, I believe, the point of all correspondence.
Katie: Oh, Lord. I am now officially a blogger. When Mandy texted me and asked me to start this up with her, she was too excited for me to say no. It would have been the equivalent of stealing a kid’s candy or microwaving a kitten. The unthinkable.
To start, I have to clarify a few points. Number one: Mandy is prone to puffery. Thank you Mandy for the flattering introduction, but I am not a perfect combination of anything and certainly have never been described as fierce. Number two: she was completely on point with the fact that you should avoid me at all costs if you dislike sarcasm. Number three: Yes, I admit that I tortured Mandy as a child, but in all fairness, my older sister tortured me. Mandy then turned on her younger brother Steven. This cycle of persecution would have just kept going, except for the fact that Steven really had no one old enough around to pick on. Thus, Steven is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, though I think he may have a bit of a twitch. He flinches easily. I will have to find an old circus picture to post at some point. The pink leotard was hilarious. My only regret is that we never forced Steven to wear it.
Moving on… Mandy, or Amanda Hope, is my little cousin/sister/head-in-the-clouds other half. She is difficult to describe, but I would say she is the ditziest smart person I’ve ever met. When she walks into a room she meets and becomes friends with every person there within 5 minutes. She is genuine, though, and has a huge heart. She currently substitute teaches kids of all ages and used to work with a teenage boy with autism during college. She is patient. Ha-ha, I am not.
That said, we balance each other out. We enjoy a lot of the same things, like little-known coffee shops and understanding foreign cultures and discovering new bands. Wow- I just re-read that and please allow me to clarify: I am not emo. Not that Mandy is, either, but she’s a little closer to that side of the spectrum. She enjoys being herself, and if that includes headbands bedazzled with feathers and drinking bubble tea then I say more power to her. She turned me on to the writing of Stephanie Meyer, and for that I am eternally grateful… Yes, I like vampires.
So the downside of the balance is that we sometimes fight like siblings because we rarely see eye-to-eye. You’ll see. Or at least the one reader that I know we have will see. (Hi, Scottie.) And I guess you’re officially introduced.
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