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Let me tell you about my day yesterday. After all, they say misery loves company.
First, I need to tell you that the hotel I work at has two bars and a bar/restaurant, the bar/restaurant currently undergoing renovation. Since it is undergoing said renovation, the hotel is running the restaurant out of the upper lobby. Since no one can see the upper lobby from the street, the typical day with this shift is one where I get to do a lot of reading, occasionally (okay, RARELY) being interrupted by a stray patron or a room service order. We call it The Death Shift.
With that in mind, yesterday I was just settling in to The Death Shift, getting ready to get some reading done in my current book, when a group of seven wanders in. No problem! Hey, some actual business, right? Um, no. They were there to have a meeting, and occasionally order something. They were there for almost four hours, and their bill was under $60. For seven people. Add to this frustration the annoying fact that one of the guys told me--didn't ask, but TOLD me "give us the locals discount." (Being in a tourist town, many places offer discounts to locals.) Fine. I did. Also, I should note that this same guy was the kind of guy that made a lot of comments he thought were hilarious, but really weren't, and was demanding as hell, and saw no problem with it.
It being seven and not eight people, I could not add on the gratuity. So. Throughout their meeting, I was doing other stuff (more on that shortly) and they could plainly see I was taking care of other matters, setting up stuff for another event elsewhere and taking care of the occasional room service, etc. And they were fine with that. I had even told them that I was going to be running around, but I would make sure to check in on them from time to time. Since they seemed completely unhurried in their meeting, taking up not only their tables but others as well (don't ask...I have no idea why), this did not seem to be a problem. Well. As I was coming back from dropping off a room service order, my manager comes on the radio to tell me that said group needs to pay their check and go. NOW they are impatient. Great. As I was on my way back anyway, no big deal. Got the check, brought it--with the locals discount--to the one guy left waiting.
SC: "Is already included the...." [that is what he said, actually]
ME: "No, it's not." [knowing he meant the gratuity.]
SC: "Here you go. The rest is for you."
He handed me $66 to cover the just under $60 bill and my tip. Even for a regular meal, that 10% tip would have been bad. After I had taken care of their every need and want for almost four hours, and put up with all of it with a smile? Grr.
I!
Hate! These! People!
So, midway through my day, while dealing with Satan's Meeting above, my boss comes up to me. "Jester, I have an opportunity for you." Uh oh. What does he want me to clean? "It 's a chance for you to make some extra money." Crap, it must be really gross!
Actually, it wasn't what I thought, thank goodness. It is currently Biker Week here on my tropical little island, and he proposed setting up a mini satellite bar in front of the hotel, since we aren't making much money on The Death Shift these days. Heck, why not? And money I did make. But...and this is important...with bossman's approval, I made the bar extremely minimal. Three types of beer. Three types of booze. (All clearly and prominently displayed.) Minimal mixers. Cheap prices.
And yet I got to deal with a number of nitwits. I understood the people asking if I had this or that, even though I was vocally (and loudly) proclaiming my wares. My response to this average curious patron was "You don't see it, I don't got it." Which was true. But one guy astounded me. After I told him that, he asked, and I quote, "Do you have any Hennessy?" Hennessy? At a minimalist street bar, after I just told you we only have what you see? Urgh.
Another nitwit, who I shall call Local Dirtbag, rolls up to me and asks me the prices. Which I tell him. Now, some people didn't like my prices that day, and said they could get a better deal elsewhere, to which I encouraged them to do so. Hell, these people are probably not tippers anyway, and frankly, the prices I was charging was less than our standard prices, and quite reasonable for this expensive tourist town. But this guy figured since he was a local, he should get a really special deal. I think, basically, he wanted me to offer him a Jack and Coke for free. Because he kept trying to haggle with me. Even when I made it plain that there would be no change in prices. "Well, this just sucks!" he said as he wandered off. Bye, pal. Don't come back soon!
Now, this is the kind of rant that should end on a sour note. But not this time! Because, not only did I make money, afterwards I ended up meeting and talking to a very lovely young lady, exchanging numbers, and getting a good feeling about it all. Extra work from the boss, while USUALLY an anvil on your noggin, can sometimes result in good things. In this case, a somewhat fatter wallet and potentially increased social life. All in all, life is not too shabby for the Jester!
First, I need to tell you that the hotel I work at has two bars and a bar/restaurant, the bar/restaurant currently undergoing renovation. Since it is undergoing said renovation, the hotel is running the restaurant out of the upper lobby. Since no one can see the upper lobby from the street, the typical day with this shift is one where I get to do a lot of reading, occasionally (okay, RARELY) being interrupted by a stray patron or a room service order. We call it The Death Shift.
With that in mind, yesterday I was just settling in to The Death Shift, getting ready to get some reading done in my current book, when a group of seven wanders in. No problem! Hey, some actual business, right? Um, no. They were there to have a meeting, and occasionally order something. They were there for almost four hours, and their bill was under $60. For seven people. Add to this frustration the annoying fact that one of the guys told me--didn't ask, but TOLD me "give us the locals discount." (Being in a tourist town, many places offer discounts to locals.) Fine. I did. Also, I should note that this same guy was the kind of guy that made a lot of comments he thought were hilarious, but really weren't, and was demanding as hell, and saw no problem with it.
It being seven and not eight people, I could not add on the gratuity. So. Throughout their meeting, I was doing other stuff (more on that shortly) and they could plainly see I was taking care of other matters, setting up stuff for another event elsewhere and taking care of the occasional room service, etc. And they were fine with that. I had even told them that I was going to be running around, but I would make sure to check in on them from time to time. Since they seemed completely unhurried in their meeting, taking up not only their tables but others as well (don't ask...I have no idea why), this did not seem to be a problem. Well. As I was coming back from dropping off a room service order, my manager comes on the radio to tell me that said group needs to pay their check and go. NOW they are impatient. Great. As I was on my way back anyway, no big deal. Got the check, brought it--with the locals discount--to the one guy left waiting.
SC: "Is already included the...." [that is what he said, actually]
ME: "No, it's not." [knowing he meant the gratuity.]
SC: "Here you go. The rest is for you."
He handed me $66 to cover the just under $60 bill and my tip. Even for a regular meal, that 10% tip would have been bad. After I had taken care of their every need and want for almost four hours, and put up with all of it with a smile? Grr.
I!
Hate! These! People! So, midway through my day, while dealing with Satan's Meeting above, my boss comes up to me. "Jester, I have an opportunity for you." Uh oh. What does he want me to clean? "It 's a chance for you to make some extra money." Crap, it must be really gross!
Actually, it wasn't what I thought, thank goodness. It is currently Biker Week here on my tropical little island, and he proposed setting up a mini satellite bar in front of the hotel, since we aren't making much money on The Death Shift these days. Heck, why not? And money I did make. But...and this is important...with bossman's approval, I made the bar extremely minimal. Three types of beer. Three types of booze. (All clearly and prominently displayed.) Minimal mixers. Cheap prices.
And yet I got to deal with a number of nitwits. I understood the people asking if I had this or that, even though I was vocally (and loudly) proclaiming my wares. My response to this average curious patron was "You don't see it, I don't got it." Which was true. But one guy astounded me. After I told him that, he asked, and I quote, "Do you have any Hennessy?" Hennessy? At a minimalist street bar, after I just told you we only have what you see? Urgh.
Another nitwit, who I shall call Local Dirtbag, rolls up to me and asks me the prices. Which I tell him. Now, some people didn't like my prices that day, and said they could get a better deal elsewhere, to which I encouraged them to do so. Hell, these people are probably not tippers anyway, and frankly, the prices I was charging was less than our standard prices, and quite reasonable for this expensive tourist town. But this guy figured since he was a local, he should get a really special deal. I think, basically, he wanted me to offer him a Jack and Coke for free. Because he kept trying to haggle with me. Even when I made it plain that there would be no change in prices. "Well, this just sucks!" he said as he wandered off. Bye, pal. Don't come back soon!
Now, this is the kind of rant that should end on a sour note. But not this time! Because, not only did I make money, afterwards I ended up meeting and talking to a very lovely young lady, exchanging numbers, and getting a good feeling about it all. Extra work from the boss, while USUALLY an anvil on your noggin, can sometimes result in good things. In this case, a somewhat fatter wallet and potentially increased social life. All in all, life is not too shabby for the Jester!
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