A man points to appetizer called ‘Rock Shrimp’ on the menu and asks Cheer, “Is this shrimp?”
Cheer: “The rock shrimp?”
Man: “Uh-huh.”
Cheer: “Yes. The rock shrimp is shrimp.”
Category Archives: Restaurant
H2O
Party size: 2
Customers: Two mid-twenties women, gussied up. Americans with Midwestern accents. Sober.
Cheer: “Do you prefer Pellegrino, Fiji, or ice water tonight?
The two women stare wide-eyed at each other.
Woman A: “Oh. Um. I… uhhh…”
Woman B: “I… uhhh… I don’t know.”
Woman A to Cheer: “Those are wines, right?”
Cheer: “I’m sorry, I mistook you for native, English-speaking, Americans.”
Women: “We are.”
Cheer takes a moment to hold back facial expressions representing her horror.
Cheer: “Water. What kind of water do you want?”
Women: “Uhhhh…”
Cheer: “Bottled or tap?”
Women: “Uh?”
Cheer: “Bottled. As in, it’s in a bottle. Or tap. As in, we get it from the faucet and poor it from a fancy pitcher.”
Woman A: “Oh! Bottled!”
Cheer: “OMG we’re making progress. Sparkling or still?”
Women: “Huh?”
Cheer: “Fucking shit, seriously? Seriously?! Water that is sparkling, carbonated, which has bubbles, con gas. Or water that is still, flat, not-carbonated, non-bubbly, sin gas.”
Woman A to Woman B: “Oh! Fizzy water. Do you want fizzy or no?”
Woman B: “Oh! Fizzy water, please.”
Cheer: “OK. I’ll bring a bottle of Pellegrino.”
Women: “Huh?”
Cheer: “Oh. My. God. Fizzy water. I will bring you a bottle of fizzy water!”
Ivory
Cheer: “Does anyone have any questions about the menu?”
Lady: “You need to go to the beach!”
Cheer: “Excuse me?”
Lady, bewildered: “Your skin, it’s…it’s like ivory. You need to go to the beach!”
Cheer: “Oh, OK. Wow. Yup. You had two full chances to process that before speaking, and both times you decided that that was an acceptable thing to say.”
Lady to companions: “Look at her. She’s just so ivory white.”
Lady to Cheer: “You need to get out in the sun.”
Cheer: “Yeeeeahhh…about that. It doesn’t matter how much time I spend in the sun. If I go to the beach, I will freckle and burn. There’s no fighting this awe-inducing pastiness. I will never, unfortunately, look like you.”
Lady: “Well, my, my, my…”
Cheer: “OK then. If we’re done with this totally inappropriate topic, I’d love to take your order so you’ll stop staring at me.”
I’m Not Making This Up: Questions Diners Have Asked Me
Serving exposes one to a barrage of stupid people. One requirement of being a server is to keep a straight face while calmly answering questions like the ones below, in order to make the diner feel as though it were a perfectly reasonable thing to ask.
What kind of underwear do you have?
The chocolate torte… Can I get that, but vanilla instead?
On the grilled calamari salad, is the calamari grilled?
So, the prix fixe set-up here, it works just like the prix-fixe at Applebee’s, right?
Is the tuna tartare cooked pretty well done?
Can I get the tuna tartare, but cooked?
(In Grand Central Terminal) Is this a train station?
Breakfast
Cheer: “Do you have any questions about the menu?”
Lady: “Do you have breakfast?”
Cheer: “Shit no! Do you really think I’d work somewhere that required me to serve breakfast? It’s hard enough for me to be here at 10:30 to set up for lunch.”
Lady: “See, I haven’t had breakfast yet. And I have to have breakfast before I can have lunch.”
Cheer: “Well, you’re weird, and you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Lady: “Don’t you just have some toast? With butter? And jelly? That’s what I’d like. Just some toast. With butter. And jelly.”
Cheer: “OK. That’s lovely. I’ll just waste a bunch of time talking to the kitchen in order to get them to make fucking toast, without a toaster, because we’re not a breakfast establishment, and don’t have a goddamn toaster, just so you and your requirement for breakfast before lunch, even though it’s 1pm, will be fulfilled. While I’m talking to the kitchen, sending my busser to find your stupid jelly, and entering toast as an open food item in the computer, all my other tables will suffer, because your obnoxious desires threw off my rhythm. I will do this because it’s my job. It will result in a $4 bill. I hate you.”
Lady: “Oh, perfect! I’d like some coffee too.”
Cheer: “OK. Your bill is up to a whopping $6.50. Let me just step to the side here and do a happy dance.”
Lady: “But, I don’t want the coffee right away. I want it at the exact moment that the toast arrives at my table. So it’s still nice and hot. And though you will send the order for the coffee just before the toast arrives, I will send the busser and the coffee away for bringing it too soon. He will come to you and tell you I wanted it with my breakfast, not one minute before. He will hate me too. You will punch me in the face in your mind.”
Cheer: “I wouldn’t be so sure about the ‘in my mind’ part.”
Gnocchi
Party: 4 suits
Customer: Alpha. Lacks respect from betas. Moron.
Cheer: “What would you like?”
Moron: “I’d like the ricotta gnocchi, but, can I have it as an entrée?”
Cheer: “Sure. No problem.”
Moron: “Oh, good. So, that will be a nice light meal, right?”
Cheer: “Uhhhhhh….”
Moron: “What? No?”
Cheer: “If cheese filled pasta doused in cream sauce and sausage is your idea of a light meal, then yes. And sure, super sizing it from appetizer to entrée will only lessen the weight of the dish.”
Moron: “Well, kshhh. Can’t they like, put less cream in it or something?”
Cheer: “Sure. That’s your biggest problem here. Cause if we just take away the cream sauce, it’s like eating celery and lettuce.”
Moron: “Hmmph. Well, fine. If you’re not going to accommodate my insanity like these 3 people who dine with me out of job requirement, then forget it. I’ll just have the mixed greens. But as an entrée. And no onions.”
Cheer: “I’ll have that right out for you.”
Don’t Drink the Water
Party size: 2
Customers: Married couple from Scotland. Early 70s.
Cheer: “Do you prefer Pellegrino, Panna, or ice water?”
Woman: “Can you drink the tap water here?”
Cheer: “Actually, New York City is known for having really good tap water. I find it to be quite quaffable.”
Woman: “Well, they say when you travel abroad, you shouldn’t drink the tap water.”
Cheer: “OooooooK. Sorry, I thought we were having a different conversation.”
Woman: “I mean, I know you can drink it in Scotland, but they say you shouldn’t while abroad.”
Cheer: “Is this what has become of the United States’ reputation? Other First World countries think we’ve spiraled so far out of control, that they consider the States to be a country where it is inadvisable to drink the water?”
Woman: “No. It’s just that I take in information at face value. I don’t delve any deeper or reach out for more information. So, in order to go along with recommendations given by the ethereal “They,” I shouldn’t drink the water abroad, but I couldn’t tell you why.”
Cheer: “Well, you can drink the tap water anywhere in the States. Just like in Scotland.”
Woman looking worried: “Are you sure?”
Cheer: “Yes.”
Woman to husband: “Do you think it’s OK? Should we get a bottle?”
Husband: “I’m just tuning into this conversation. Water? It’s all the same. Yes. No. Whatever you think.”
Cheer: “How about I bring you some tap. You try it, and if you die, I’ll get you a bottle.”
Woman: “OK.”
Unemployment: Craigslist
Searching for a restaurant job = Craigslist. I really don’t understand how people got jobs before Craigslist, and fuck, I can’t even fathom a job hunt before the internet. Newspapers? Phone calls instead of emails? Gah! The past was a scary time, my friends.
During my unemployment in the past 5 months, Craigslist and I have become great frienemies. Craigslist makes it possible to remain lazy and nocturnal while job hunting, and provides listings for an abundance of available jobs. Yet, I want to strangle every person who posts an ad. Typically, Craigslist restaurant ads can be categorized as one of three types:
Type 1: The Mystery Ad
We are an establishment. We might be a restaurant, or a bar, or a restaurant-bar. We may or may not mention what neighborhood we’re located in, but we’re certainly not giving you the name or address of our establishment. Please email all highly sensitive, personal information. We may or may not respond. We may or may not steal your identity.
Type 2: The Semi-Mystery Ad
We are also an establishment. Unlike mystery ads, we’ll give you the address of our establishment, but never mention the name. We do this for unknown reasons. Perhaps we are afraid of the internet. Perhaps we don’t understand the internet. Perhaps we want you to take that extra time to prove your dedication. That extra 2.4 nanoseconds it takes to match our address with the name of an establishment via the internet. Come to the address listed with your resume.
Type 3: The Straightforward Ad
We are such-n-such restaurant. We demand a lot. Not just a lot, but everything. You must be available 24 hours a day and be superhuman. Please send your resume and cover letter so we can laugh at you and never respond.
All of these ads are up to no good. None are above severe typos. None sound like someone of any intelligence posted them. None appear to be places anyone would like to work.
Despite the degrading manner of this process, I send out resumes in response to all of these types of ads. To cope with the pain, I try to convince myself that maybe just one of my emails will actually reach another human being. The outcome is dismal, yet, I trudge on.
Unemployment: Applications
Filling out applications for restaurant jobs is a worthless activity, commonly classified as torture. Here’s how it works:
You go to a restaurant which has announced its need for employees. You bring your resume, because you have to. If you don’t have a resume, you’re not trying to get a job.
At the restaurant, there may be 100+ other desperate, jobless losers to keep you company.
You get an application from the hostess. It will have a number on it designating your place in the wait-an-hour-for-a-five-second-interview line. While you wait with application #137, you fill out its multiple pages, with multiple sections, which ask the following:
Basic Info:
Please fill out your name, phone number, email, and all that other shit that is clearly typed on your resume. We only know that you’re truly ready to be a slave if you give us this information again in your best I-hate-this-and-I-hate-myself handwriting.
Not So Basic Info:
Please give us more information about yourself than is even close to being necessary.
Your real name. C’mon. We know you’re a dirty criminal and you changed your name.
Social security number.
Have you committed a felony? Please explain, as if there is any explanation for a felony that would result in us hiring you.
Mother’s maiden name.
Can you legally work in the United States, you damn dirty foreigner?
Bank account passwords.
Have you ever applied here before? Please tell us so that we can reject your application even faster this time.
Blood type.
Have you ever been fired from a job before? Please explain why exactly we shouldn’t hire you.
Superhero identity.
Previous Employment:
Please continue to prove your slave dedication by entering your employment history, which is also clearly typed on your resume. And, yes, we really do want the name of your supervisor and his phone number from the place you worked 5 years ago.
References:
Please list names and phone numbers of people who like you so we may call them and make them not like you after we harass them.
Education:
Tell us every school you ever attended and what degrees you earned. Yes, we really did ask for your elementary school and whether or not you graduated from it.
Skills:
Nunchuck or otherwise, you better have some, cause like girls, we like people with skills.
The Exam:
This is the part of the application which no one, no matter their schooling or experience, can complete perfectly. It is a test. You will be graded harshly. We know you’re a raging moron, so please prove it now so we may throw away your application.
Questions:
- List the five most obscure wine varietals you know. Give a geographical location where the grape is commonly grown, and mention what the soil smells like. Describe each wine as you would to a master sommelier.
- Name and describe three types of Sicilian grappa.
- What are the ingredients of an Exploding British Gumdrop cocktail?
- What is 2 + 6?
- List every ingredient in the following sauces: Remoulade, Bernaise, and Financière.
- Name 16 spices used in Tibetan cooking.
- Which of the following words are misspelled? Potatoe, Cheeken, Suk, Mai, Cocke
- If a customer asks for a flying tulip with his ribeye steak, what do you bring him?
- Name and diagram every possible cut of steak. Explain the flavor characteristics for each as you would to Jean-Georges.
- If a customer urinated on you, what would you do?
And finally…
Sign Your Life Away:
Sign and date under a series of clauses that say things like:
When you sign this, you promise you’re not lying about anything and have never lied, like ever, in your whole life. And if we find out you lied, we can, like, not hire you.
And:
When you sign this, we have the right to stalk you. In every way possible. If there is a way to get information about you, you give us permission to do so. This includes stalking you on Facebook and Twitter and wherever else you may have posted personal information about yourself. We can stalk you and we will use it against you. And again, not hire you.
Click photo to enlarge.
Upon completing your application full of lies, you must wait. And wait some more. Finally, #137 will be called and you will hand your application and resume to a suit, who, like a bad one night stand, won’t look you in the eye, and says he’ll call you but never will.
You leave feeling worthless and abused, and you will repeat the process at the next restaurant.
Management II
Pre-shift staff meeting:
Manager: “So, we know it’s been a little hot in the restaurant lately.”
Staff: “It’s not a little hot, it’s I-don’t-want-to-be-outside-unless-I’m-naked-and-swimming-while-eating-a-popcicle hot.”
Manager: “I’ll allow you to feel that way, but it doesn’t mean I verify that statement’s absolute truth and I will actually disagree with you on principle.”
Staff: “Riiiiight.”
Manager: “Anyway, it’s been a little hot in the restaurant and we know it can be a wee bit, tiny bit uncomfortable.”
Staff: “We have heat rash between our ass cheeks.”
Manager: “We know that you’re sweating profusely and panting due to your rapid dehydration, but, we really want to hide that from the guests. So, please don’t fan yourself, or wipe your brow. We’d really love it if you could just pretend you’re a superhuman that doesn’t produce fluids.”
Staff: “So when we don’t wipe our brows and we drip sweat on to the tables, food, and customers, you want us to pretend it’s not happening?”
Manager: “Ideally.”
Staff: “Just to be clear, you don’t consider us humans, but annoying, sweating machinery.”
Manager: “Yes.”
Staff: “What about our customers? They want to physically beat us in the face until we get you to close the goddamn doors and turn the AC the fuck on.”
Manager: “Well, we’re very willing to give the guests free prosecco or sorbet.”
Staff: “What about us? We’re wearing twice as much clothing and running around. Can we have a glass of prosecco or some sorbet?”
Manager: “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Staff: “Why don’t we just put all that free beverage and cold sugar money toward fixing the AC?”
Manager: “We’re working on it.”
Staff: “You’ve been working on it for 3 months.”
Manager: “Yeah, when we say we’re working on it, it really means we’re waiting for winter.”
Staff: “Is schadenfreude a requirement for being hired as a manager here?”
Manager: “Yes.”