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We didn’t have a busboy at the restaurant this morning. That can be fine, as long as everything runs smoothly.
It didn’t.
I had the first table, so I was the one who discovered that our computer had crashed. The kitchen manager had a very worried look on his face as I tried to calm him: “Hey, we’ll just do this ‘old-school,’ I waited tables back in the day before we had restaurant computers. It won’t be a problem.”
I tried to clearly write all the orders (appetizer, entrees, etc.) on pieces of scratch paper for the cooks, and everything ran like clockwork. Perfect.
There was another waiter working with me, but he was bogged-down with a bridal shower banquet. So I would have to absorb the jolts of multiple parties arriving at the same time all by myself.
My next table was easy - they were low-maintenance and they all knew what they wanted. I wish every table could be like that! But as I was greeting them, the hostess sat a large party of eight, and then a couple with an infant. Bang, bang, bang! Being ‘triple-sat’ is rarely good.
I should have served the party of eight before the couple, but I also knew that larger groups can sometimes take an absurd amount of time. So I decided to help the couple first, while trying to ‘appear’ to be serving everyone in my room in the order they’d arrived.
I took drink & appetizer orders from the G-8, and then from the couple, before returning to the kitchen.
As I was writing-out all my appetizer orders on separate pieces of scratch paper (one paper per table), I heard the cheers as our computer returned from the dead. So I sent the appetizers ‘21st century style’ and began pouring drinks.
Delivering G-8’s drinks off my tray first left me standing at the couple’s table when I delivered their’s last – able to take their order, get it to the kitchen first, and knock them out of the way before tackling the G-8. The couple special-ordered a lunch plate for their toddler, but it wasn’t difficult (with the computer working).
Then, immediately after I finally sent the G-8’s order, the computer froze again. (And no, I wasn’t smart enough to check if their order had reached the kitchen!)
The low-maintenance table was happy – their food came out quickly.
I eventually realized that the kitchen didn’t have a ticket for the G-8, so I had to write-out their order and wait.
The couple’s meal also came out relatively quickly, including the special-ordered child’s portion. But this left the G-8 wondering when and if they’d be eating this morning.
Basically, everything that could have gone wrong with G-8 did go wrong. Half of their entrees arrived later than the first - none of them came out together.
I also forgot about one of their refills: I’d taken the lady’s glass to refill it, but was distracted and forgot about it. “Uh, she’s still waiting for her Coke.” Damn. I returned with an apology and a goofy explanation, “Sorry about that ... I can’t find your glass anywhere – it must have escaped, so here’s a new one.”
They actually were relatively good-spirited about the whole experience; even with my constant explaining that the rest of their meal is “on the way,” “almost here,” and “should be here any day now.”
Once all the orders were out, everything appeared to run smoothly. I cleared & reset my first table, took the payment from the low-maintenance customers, wrapped-up the leftovers from the couple (who’d ordered entirely too much food) and ran their credit card, and greeted my next table when I noticed something ...
The father at the couple’s table wasn’t just signing his credit card receipt – he was writing a little message for me. That’s rarely good. I couldn’t immediately think of anything I’d done wrong or forgotten.
So I told my new table, loud enough for him to overhear, “Let me go ahead and take your whole order if you’re ready, so I can quickly put it in the computer – our computers have already crashed twice this morning, its been a nightmare.” I hoped that would provide an explanation for any complaint he might have had.
After entering their order and making their drinks, I returned to the room and found that the message-writer had already left.
The receipt: First off, he didn’t just put a $0.00 in the tip line. Nor did he leave it blank or draw a line or an X through it. He took the time to write out “Zero.” Ooooh.
Beside it he wrote, “Service was an ‘F’ – will not return.” (Actually, the way he wrote it, it reads “Service ‘F’ was an ulll not Retun,” but I think I know what he’d intended to write).
And his signature was funny-looking; not just illegible, but like a two-year-old child had scribbled it. Perhaps he was afraid I’d copy his real signature and use it for some identity theft crimes. (Did he think he’d done something to make me - or anyone - that angry?)
I wasn’t angry. Actually, I was confused. What had I done wrong?
I spent the rest of the day trying to think of what I could have done that was awful enough to warrant such a nasty comment (and no tip).
I’d checked-back with them after the entrees were delivered – everything was fine.
Was it because I didn’t bring out their child’s special-ordered meal? Our hostess delivered it to the table before I’d returned to the kitchen to check on it. They should be happy about that!
Was it because their entrees were delivered by the other waiter? They should be happy about that too – it means that their meal wasn’t getting cold waiting until the next time I passed through the kitchen!
Besides, their meal arrived long before the G-8 entrees started trickling out of the kitchen ... and the couple had been seated AFTER them.
Was it because I brought him a refill of his drink, but not one for his wife? His was almost empty, while hers was over half-full!
Was it because I didn’t immediately take their leftovers to wrap up? I already had both hands full of plates when they asked!
Was it because I took his credit card and charged the meal before handing him the check? He just handed me his card – if you want to see the check first, wait/ask for it BEFORE giving your waiter your credit card!
I just don’t know.
What a weenie.
I went around the restaurant showing everyone my prize ... beginning with the Kitchen Manager.
“Look – someone left me a love note.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know – that’s the one table I DIDN’T screw-up!”
“Oh ... I saw him run out of here,” the manager remembered.
Yes, the guy had waited until I was out of the room to leave, then quickly ran out – so I wouldn’t see his note before he could escape.
What was he afraid of? That someone might ask him what went wrong? That he might actually have to explain why he was so upset?
The G-8 finally finished their meal. They really hadn’t ordered much food; their check was only about $110. That’s why I was surprised when they left me a $25 tip.
So the table I completely screwed-up left me a 23% tip, while the other table whose complaint is still a mystery to everyone left me nothing AND a nasty note. Amazing.
I’m actually not going to criticize the guy for leaving me nothing. That’s just the kind of person he is. But to make up some excuse for not tipping ... that’s just pathetic.
It didn’t.
I had the first table, so I was the one who discovered that our computer had crashed. The kitchen manager had a very worried look on his face as I tried to calm him: “Hey, we’ll just do this ‘old-school,’ I waited tables back in the day before we had restaurant computers. It won’t be a problem.”
I tried to clearly write all the orders (appetizer, entrees, etc.) on pieces of scratch paper for the cooks, and everything ran like clockwork. Perfect.
There was another waiter working with me, but he was bogged-down with a bridal shower banquet. So I would have to absorb the jolts of multiple parties arriving at the same time all by myself.
My next table was easy - they were low-maintenance and they all knew what they wanted. I wish every table could be like that! But as I was greeting them, the hostess sat a large party of eight, and then a couple with an infant. Bang, bang, bang! Being ‘triple-sat’ is rarely good.
I should have served the party of eight before the couple, but I also knew that larger groups can sometimes take an absurd amount of time. So I decided to help the couple first, while trying to ‘appear’ to be serving everyone in my room in the order they’d arrived.
I took drink & appetizer orders from the G-8, and then from the couple, before returning to the kitchen.
As I was writing-out all my appetizer orders on separate pieces of scratch paper (one paper per table), I heard the cheers as our computer returned from the dead. So I sent the appetizers ‘21st century style’ and began pouring drinks.
Delivering G-8’s drinks off my tray first left me standing at the couple’s table when I delivered their’s last – able to take their order, get it to the kitchen first, and knock them out of the way before tackling the G-8. The couple special-ordered a lunch plate for their toddler, but it wasn’t difficult (with the computer working).
Then, immediately after I finally sent the G-8’s order, the computer froze again. (And no, I wasn’t smart enough to check if their order had reached the kitchen!)
The low-maintenance table was happy – their food came out quickly.
I eventually realized that the kitchen didn’t have a ticket for the G-8, so I had to write-out their order and wait.
The couple’s meal also came out relatively quickly, including the special-ordered child’s portion. But this left the G-8 wondering when and if they’d be eating this morning.
Basically, everything that could have gone wrong with G-8 did go wrong. Half of their entrees arrived later than the first - none of them came out together.
I also forgot about one of their refills: I’d taken the lady’s glass to refill it, but was distracted and forgot about it. “Uh, she’s still waiting for her Coke.” Damn. I returned with an apology and a goofy explanation, “Sorry about that ... I can’t find your glass anywhere – it must have escaped, so here’s a new one.”
They actually were relatively good-spirited about the whole experience; even with my constant explaining that the rest of their meal is “on the way,” “almost here,” and “should be here any day now.”
Once all the orders were out, everything appeared to run smoothly. I cleared & reset my first table, took the payment from the low-maintenance customers, wrapped-up the leftovers from the couple (who’d ordered entirely too much food) and ran their credit card, and greeted my next table when I noticed something ...
The father at the couple’s table wasn’t just signing his credit card receipt – he was writing a little message for me. That’s rarely good. I couldn’t immediately think of anything I’d done wrong or forgotten.
So I told my new table, loud enough for him to overhear, “Let me go ahead and take your whole order if you’re ready, so I can quickly put it in the computer – our computers have already crashed twice this morning, its been a nightmare.” I hoped that would provide an explanation for any complaint he might have had.
After entering their order and making their drinks, I returned to the room and found that the message-writer had already left.
The receipt: First off, he didn’t just put a $0.00 in the tip line. Nor did he leave it blank or draw a line or an X through it. He took the time to write out “Zero.” Ooooh.
Beside it he wrote, “Service was an ‘F’ – will not return.” (Actually, the way he wrote it, it reads “Service ‘F’ was an ulll not Retun,” but I think I know what he’d intended to write).
And his signature was funny-looking; not just illegible, but like a two-year-old child had scribbled it. Perhaps he was afraid I’d copy his real signature and use it for some identity theft crimes. (Did he think he’d done something to make me - or anyone - that angry?)
I wasn’t angry. Actually, I was confused. What had I done wrong?
I spent the rest of the day trying to think of what I could have done that was awful enough to warrant such a nasty comment (and no tip).
I’d checked-back with them after the entrees were delivered – everything was fine.
Was it because I didn’t bring out their child’s special-ordered meal? Our hostess delivered it to the table before I’d returned to the kitchen to check on it. They should be happy about that!
Was it because their entrees were delivered by the other waiter? They should be happy about that too – it means that their meal wasn’t getting cold waiting until the next time I passed through the kitchen!
Besides, their meal arrived long before the G-8 entrees started trickling out of the kitchen ... and the couple had been seated AFTER them.
Was it because I brought him a refill of his drink, but not one for his wife? His was almost empty, while hers was over half-full!
Was it because I didn’t immediately take their leftovers to wrap up? I already had both hands full of plates when they asked!
Was it because I took his credit card and charged the meal before handing him the check? He just handed me his card – if you want to see the check first, wait/ask for it BEFORE giving your waiter your credit card!
I just don’t know.
What a weenie.
I went around the restaurant showing everyone my prize ... beginning with the Kitchen Manager.
“Look – someone left me a love note.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know – that’s the one table I DIDN’T screw-up!”
“Oh ... I saw him run out of here,” the manager remembered.
Yes, the guy had waited until I was out of the room to leave, then quickly ran out – so I wouldn’t see his note before he could escape.
What was he afraid of? That someone might ask him what went wrong? That he might actually have to explain why he was so upset?
The G-8 finally finished their meal. They really hadn’t ordered much food; their check was only about $110. That’s why I was surprised when they left me a $25 tip.
So the table I completely screwed-up left me a 23% tip, while the other table whose complaint is still a mystery to everyone left me nothing AND a nasty note. Amazing.
I’m actually not going to criticize the guy for leaving me nothing. That’s just the kind of person he is. But to make up some excuse for not tipping ... that’s just pathetic.
Really, I'm not that hard to please; I was just kidding! I hope he didn't write about me here . . . 
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