Back to the ex-work-wife story finally

Previously, on Guy's Work Blog...

I defined and offered examples of some "work-wife" relationships I've had in the past. That story is here http://guysworkblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/shes-gone-and-im-sad.html btw. You should read it first if you haven't. Seriously, I'll wait here. You go now.

She's Gone, and I'm sad Part 2

Cassie (my nickname for her) is one those rare co-workers who is almost never at rest. She makes everybody else almost look bad in fact, because (for instance) while some are standing around talking or just generally lolly-gagging during slower moments, she's weaving in and out of the assembly of the bored cleaning the counters that you're trying desperately to lean on.

She's also the type that - during busier periods - as you turn the corner planning on approaching your table with a full tea pitcher, she's leaving your table with an empty one, a few dishes, and a maybe a desert order for ya, to boot. You see, if you're generally a slacker, that could come across as perhaps a little too helpful. But as I said previously (on Guy's Work Blog...) those whom competence, high work-ethic, and teamwork are those whom I get along with best, and try to be myself. The reason that such a scenario doesn't make me look bad is that it's in context of a reciprocal relationship, and your tables (sorry - that's the word we often use for you people) - your *guests* generally pick up on the rapport you have with your co-worker, and have a better overall dining experience because of it.

A recent example: Cassie is removing an appetizer plate from one of my tables, and I (for the sake of the type of improv "performance art" we servers sometimes do) say - with mock indignation - to the guests "Now I just tried to take that away not 60 seconds ago, and you nearly slapped my hand!" They laugh :) Then Cassie chimes in "It's okay, I slap him at least once every day. Right on his bald head." and walks off. You see? Rapport. Relationship. Good times. Smiling guests. Cha-ching.

Now there's almost no one I currently work with that doesn't - occasionally - pick up a plate for you when walking by, or refill some teas for you. But it's more incidental to the fact that my current job only hires really good, experienced servers to begin with. (And two servers have "washed out" of training just in the few months since I've started here in fact, because it turned out they interviewed better than they actually worked.) Some of my co-workers I'd say do stuff like this routinely in fact, but not quite in the same personal and symbiotic style I discussed previously (on Guy's Work Blog - you have read it by now, right?). Some do it because they're good workers who know they're serving the guests. Some do it because there's a manager nearby and they want to be seen looking like a good worker (Guilty!). A few in my time, I'd say do such things specifically to make YOU LOOK BAD to that same nearby manager in fact - maybe because they think you get better sections or shifts than they. For some, their method of "moving up" requires pushing others down. I'm sure you know the type.

Well anyways, to wind this down before the darn story becomes a trilogy, it's rare to find people whom you work so well with that you honestly do stuff simply for the other person's benefit. I was enjoying seeing such a priceless relationship forming already at my new job. Perhaps Cassie saw in me the type of work-ethic I described previously (...). I also went to her with a lot of questions early on. You might say she maybe saw me as worthy of taking under her wing. She explained a lot to me about the place - the procedures (she designed all the "sidework" duties - a term for another time - herself in fact), regularly offered helpful hints, and even insights about our main boss-man, which has proven helpful.

And then we worked a party of 20 together.. and we aced it. (Large parties are where the money is, btw.) She later told me that that same "main boss-man" asked her "How'd Guy do on the party?" And she told me "I told him you sucked. You were nowhere to be found half the time, and stuck me with all the clean-up" Ha ha. Then she told me she told him I did fine, and that I should be put on more large parties. And I have been since. Thanks Cass.

The last night I saw her, I was given my first "12-top" (a party of 12 guests, duh) by myself ever here. We had the kind of thing going where I went immediately to her and said "I need to recruit you. I'm getting my first 12-top and I don't want to go down in flames or screw it up somehow and never get another one. Will you drop by and help me to make sure everything goes okay?" She says, "You'll do fi-i-i-ine. But yeh, I'll help you" and smiled. In this case, I felt the need to hand her $20 before the group even got rolling to show my appreciation (and to buy her guaranteed assistance ;) which she appreciated too. And yuppers, she was refilling drinks, pulling plates, etc, etc, etc, as if it were her own table, and as if her own income and job security depended upon it.

Well anyways, turns out she was actually discontent with the place. While my two stories above were happening, it was with the knowledge that she had found another job, and had given her notice (and tried to recruit me to come with). I told her that if I were the manager and she gave me notice, Id've handed her a pen and said "write down the exact schedule that you want, and let's talk money" just to keep her. Obviously, he felt differently. And that was the last night we worked together. Next time I worked, her shifts were all crossed out, and just like that, my budding work-wife was gone, and I was sad for a couple of days there.

It's probably for the best tho. She *was* starting to get a little clingy.

Bleep My Waiter Says dept - Potty Humor

No seriously, this is just humor relating to the potty, but not anything fowl.

Yesterday a little boy (maybe 8, maybe 10 years old) asks me "Do you know where the bathrooms are?"

One of my strengths - but also faults - is that I'm very specific when it comes to wording. I live with the curse of not always hearing what people really mean, but instead sometimes answering them according to what they literally say.

"Do I know where the bathroom is?" he's asking me? Seriously?

After maybe a second, I replied "Well, that would make me about the dumbest waiter ever if I didn't, now wouldn't it?"

The whole family laughed (thank God). But after that one rolled around in my head a few seconds, I was thinking of what else I could have said, like

"No... Actually, I don't. I've worked here 4 months and they STILL haven't told me." Kinda wish I'd said that actually. Eh. Maybe next time...

Wayyy back when I really was a totally smart-aleck waiter (and sooner or later I'll share here the singular incident that finally curbed me into toning myself down a few notches) one of my favorite "auto-replies" to a similar common guest question went like this:

"Where is your bathroom?"

Dramatic pause, direct eye contact, sly smile... 

"Right next to my bedroom."

Laughter usually ensued, but I found it was always from others at the table, laughing at the expense of the person who'd inquired. So I don't use that one so much these days. But I do remember it fondly.

I'll get back to Part 2 of the other thing I was telling you about soon, God willing. Just wanted to share that.

By the way, Orlando is a Big Time, World Class city people. Expectations are high. You can't just point people in the right direction when they ask about the location of your restrooms here. You want to know what the actual, official, in writing, according to the manual, policy is - when someone asks me where the bathroom is?

The correct answer is

"Follow me. I'll show you."

In this business, it's the personal touches that really matter. And that's one I really like.

Classy, huh?

She's Gone... and I'm sad

No, not that "she" people...     

I'm talking about someone I recently worked with. My "work-wife." But now she's taken another job, and just like that, she's gone. And I'm sad.

I... ummm... Guess I better first unpack this "work-wife" term of mine a bit, huh? It's a term I coined lonnng ago, but one I've actually not used - esp outloud - since getting *REALLY* married (and that's probably a good thing. But any of you public and "prolific" poo-poohers of mine out there, don't read too much into my use of the term here today, okay?)

For the rest of us, firstly, it's not a term or a relationship based on anything to do with attraction, or emotions, or any sense of flirtatiousness or inappropriate behavior. Nor is it a long-term commitment, either, ha ha! In fact I've had several work-wives over the last 25 or so years. If you knew me at Cattle Baron, most recently for me the term would have applied to Marlena, obviously. Kim before her, and Jennifer before her. And it's not that I always have a work-wife either. No, just like in real life, a good one is quite hard to come by in fact.

The relationship I'm speaking of starts with respect of the other one's character AND their proven ability on the job. I don't steal from my employers for instance, and could have absolutely no respect or meaningful relationship with someone whom I thought did. Also, I strive for excellence and have developed a pretty good skill-set over the years. And male or female, those are the people I tend to most like and gravitate towards at work, and whom I get along with the best. In short, I can have a great relationship with almost anyone at work if I know they're there to work, who aren't slackers or back-stabbers, who are MORE than competent, who DO MORE than is required of them (a lot of the time, anyways) and who put the immediate needs of our guests above their own short-term gain. Those people are unfortunately kind of rare to begin with, but not totally uncommon either.

For me tho, this "work-wife" relationship evolves when your schedules regularly overlap, and - just as good teammates and professional people - you come to seriously depend on knowing the other one almost always has your back, and will take as good care of the guests in your "section" as they will of their own. They likewise trust that you are doing the same for them. You are acutely aware of one another's needs as well, and are often helping that person do their job when they haven't even asked; it's just that one of you overheard the customer ask for something - or that you've accurately discerned what your teammate needed based on simple observation - and got to work on it because the other was busy... 

You're easily handing your co-worker things just as they were beginning to look for them. In some ways, the relationship I'm talking about here is not solely based on the guests' needs, but often-times based more and more on your co-workers needs. In short, the relationship becomes - and even seems to outside observers to be - truly symbiotic. Seriously, there were times at my last job where regulars didn't even automatically know who was actually waiting on them - Marlena or myself. They just knew that they got two servers for the price of one, and could ask anything of either of us freely, whoever was waiting on them. 

In fact, one time (just for giggles) we actually traded positions - Marley took the bartender slot, while I was the "cocktail waitress". This switch went unnoticed by our manager for almost three hours, because he was just that used to seeing seeing us taking care of each others' guests and responsibilities. Funny thing was, once our "ruse" was discovered, the manager laughed and let it be. Marlena then commented, "You know, I think we get away with entirely too much around here!"

This relationship goes beyond symbiosis as well tho of course. This relationship evolves into the dynamic that if a co-worker is talking bad about one of us for nearly any reason, the other will defend them. If one has to smoke, pee, change tampons, spend five minutes solid at one singular table for any variety of crazy reason, or just take a rare but seriously urgent personal call, the other so easily covers their absence that you (as a customer) wouldn't have a need that wasn't met - even if my/her own customers suffered for a minute or two. Beyond that, the rare customer that mistreats my work-wife, has to deal with me (in all my bald-headed, broad-shouldered bouncer-if-I-need-to-be glory).. But rather than throw a paying customer out for personal reasons, it's more likely that I'd just "switch out" and become their server, put up with their abuse all the while knowing they're not going to tip me, and it's worth it to me to keep her from having to deal with them. It gets very personal, in that you both know a lot about each others' outside lives, and care for one another's personal well-being, but also remains above all else professional. Keeping such relationships almost solely "inside the workplace" is probably a key component as to why it's worked so well for me, in fact. 

Just as examples, beyond the most recent fond memories of Marlena (see my current FB pics, that's her), I think of Kim sacrificing and working my shift when I wanted to stay out of town at a conference an extra day, and me "running off" her would-be-suitors whom I know she did not care for - and also telling her of those who dropped in that I knew she did care for - or might. And Jennifer - who was scheduled in before I was - and used to order food for me every day to make sure I ate something mbefore going on, because she'd learned that some days I'd be too busy at ARHQ and often would not take the time to eat a good lunch before my night shift. I came to depend on her for this, and she never let me down. She even watched my dogs for me once when I was leaving town, so I wouldn't have to pay to board them. (We meshed so well together at work, I used to say that one us couldn't fart on the clock without the other knowing it!) Her husband would occasionally come in, and once I remember him thanking me for taking such good care of her at work, and watching out for her. "Oh yeah?" I thought.. "and all this time I looked at the situation as her taking care of me." 

You see, I'm describing the kind of relationship you actually talk about, outside of work.  

Hummmmm. Hrrrrmmmmm. Ya know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking, that all of the above introduction/definition of the term has been long enough. Too long for typical blog entry standards.

So with all of that out of the way, I'll catch you more up on what I intended to write about here, next time.

Thanks for hanging with me so far

-g-

Why you MAY not want to order a bottle of wine from me today

...

Late last night, my cats and I got into a very serious philosophical debate, over wines.

One prefers Pinot Noir with her chicken and fish flavored cuisines, while the other (a purist, to be sure) still insists on white wine to go with his white meat (flavored!) dishes. Tell me what you think, below.

What? You fell for that? I'm talking about CATS here! Okay, more truthfully now...

Late last night, my two cats and I got into a very physical debate over whether my wine opener is more suitable as a devise for scratching them with, or is best used simply as a chew-toy. Let's just say the whole debacle ended with a split decision, and wet fur everywhere.

Anyways, everyone's being called in early tonight for some big thing-a-ma-jig, and instead of washing and sterilizing my wine opener, I'm writing this.

So, if I happen to be your waiter tonight, and if you're drinking wine, AND if you're not really a cat person, you might prefer ordering by the glass rather than having me open a bottle for you tableside. That's my whole point here.

If you are a cat person, you probably totally understand, and could probably care less.

I'm here for you either way. But it's totally your call.

I am totally kidding btw. Didn't happen. Exactly.

But this blogging is SO good for me! I can't remember the last piece of creative writing I produced. 

Sorry for the "Gotcha!"  ;)

Turns out, you CAN pick your friend's nose!

Perhaps you've heard the ironic phrase before:

"You can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's nose!"

Of course, there's also the phrase "For every rule, there's an exception." Well I'm here to tell you, the restaurant business is one where "Exceptions are always the rule." It's a business like no other, where one day you might actually decide to pick your friend's nose.

Let me explain. Fast-paced decisions have to made regularly by servers and bartenders that might not be what "the rules" always dictate. Say you're a waiter, and you know you've been out of your section (the group of tables you're assigned to wait on today) for three minutes making two deserts. You're walking back in, deserts in hand, and here's what you see as you survey your section:

Table 109 has two empty tea glasses, and dang you didn't think to bring a tea pitcher. That's going to adversely affect your income if not handled immediately.
Table 108 has been seated with two new guests. The "rule" is that new guests must be greeted within two minutes (for example - 60 seconds some places). For all you know they've been there the whole three minutes you were gone. That's going to affect your income if you don't get there fast, and potentially get you in serious trouble with management.
Table 105 - not in your section - is flagging you down, trying to get your attention. What's going on there? Needs more sauce? Wants to pay but hasn't seen their server for five minutes? Hair in the food? And is it really my problem? What rule applies here?

So you walk to drop off the deserts and in the 0.3 seconds it takes you to know what you're going to do when you walk away from that table - and you also just spotted the nearest tea pitcher (silently praying there's something in it) - some kid knocks their coke all over the floor... your section or not, doesn't matter. You gonna walk right by that? That said, for many of us, fast-paced decisions like these are our every day life.

1988, Ruby Tuesday, Knoxville Tennessee. My friend and co-worker Shannon made a snap decision that you might argue goes against every rule in the books. I'm hurriedly walking out of the kitchen with a tray of food in one hand and other stuff in the other. He's hurriedly walking in, probably with a handful of dishes. He glances at me, and with great authority, stretches his hand out and quite literally commands me "STOP!"

So I did. And without a word of explanation, without wasting 8-15 precious seconds (of you wondering where your servers are) to look for a cocktail napkin or something, he reaches toward my face, puts his finger in my nostril, and pulls out a booger. Obviously, it would have been seen by the people whom I was about to serve their food. Showing it to me he said "I couldn't let you go out there like that man." True story.

Judge it all you want. He did the right thing.

That's a friendship you don't easily forget... and a noble deed worth memorializing and telling of for decades to come. Once again Dear Reader, welcome to the restaurant business. These are my peers, and this is my life.

Bleep My Waiter Says dept

For the record, I think the blog S*** My Dad Says is wayyy funnier than the current William Shatner TV show, which I've only seen twice. But I'm grateful for the cultural relevance touchstone the TV show has provided me to get your attention ;)

So anyways, I'm waiting on this group of six the other day. I asked - making conversation of course - and one explains to me that they are Synagogue Administrators here for a convention. (That means Jewish, for those that don't snap.) A minute later I'm going through a few appetizer recommendations for them, but find myself with a sinking feeling in my gut and stopping myself halfway through the SHRIMP description.. ("Dumbass! Okay - quick - rebound...") and I say to them

"...altho I guess that's probably not the best one to be recommending to this crowd huh?" They all politely laughed, and I earned points just for knowing that. I.E., I built a somewhat closer-than-the-average-server personal connection with them, which guests like and usually means more money in my pocket. BUT THEN...

Taking the drink order, one lady orders a Margarita, adding "No salt." I didn't even try to suppress my smile. She of course says "What?" I say, "But.. it's Kosher salt." They all fell out laughing then! So I finished with saying "Okay I think I'm going to quit while I'm ahead now." I walk away saying to myself "Denny Crainnn!!!" and they all tipped me huge.

And that kids, is how it's done.

Oh, while I haven't looked up the original blog in quite some time (it's funny, but can also vulgar), I will confess here in closing that the only reason I knew about the Bleep My Dad Says TV program is that, well... "Yes, as a matter of fact I am on William Shatner's mailing list."

Some of you probably didn't know what a big geek I am til now did ya? AND he's in Orlando this weekend appearing at http://www.MEGACONvention.com/

Stan Lee too! I am so there!

Cheap Glasses

I've been in denial too long.

As of last week, I've started wearing "cheaters" into work, for when I'm on the computer. Most of the time they sit on top of my shiny head.

I bought them about a year ago from Wal-Mart for $10, and wear them a lot at home when reading, typing (like now), or texting. But gosh, into work?

Segue
Didn't mean to toot my own horn in the last blog that I'm some sort of mega-helpful or even mega-spiritual guy btw. That prayer I mentioned that usually evolves into being a good teammate, usually *begins* more along the lines of "God please save my arse tonight and help me not screw up at work again."

I'm new enough at this job that I make some pretty silly mistakes still. About two weeks ago I had to go to a manager for a "Void" THREE DAYS IN A ROW because I rang in the wrong food item and it went out to the guest. That always sucks. And that same week I ran a credit card on the wrong check, and it cost me $15 because their real check was higher. (I'll explain in some other posting how that works.) And I've several times forgotten to order a certain side dish, or failed to type in "special instructions" because I simply didn't see it in my notepad, altho I just wrote it down 2 minutes prior.

SO... wearing glasses when ringing in food orders has greatly helped my accuracy! Just what the heck was I afraid of all this time, I wonder? Half the people I work with wear glasses, and I've never thought myself prejudiced against people who wear them. I maybe thought "never me..."

But I know that somewhere, Webb Wilder is smiling on me because of it http://www.webbwilder.com/audio/credo.mp3

To be totally honest, a hearing aid may not be that far off.

Worst 1st Blog Entry Ever?

For context, a pretty regular prayer of mine either before leaving for work (or while driving in) includes asking God's help for me to be a good teammate and helper to my co-workers.  (If I hadn't told you that, this entry might seem like I was just bashing a co-worker - on top of not being very edifying (which is not the top goal of this work blog btw) - and of course would be the worst first blog entry ever. But the point is I got the chance to put that into practice today.)

Here was my morning timeline today:
9:55am Arrive for 10am opening shift. Start setting up.
10:05 Co-worker arrives for same opening set-up shift.
10:08 Co-worker starts saying (almost screaming) "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" like eight or 10 times and looking at her I-phone, after opening busser says something to her..

Apparently, the night before (which was St Patrick's Day) after about her 6th or 7th Irish Car Bomb, she had decided it was a good idea to post a picture of herself partially undressed making out with another female co-worker on her Facebook page. Something she had forgotten she did when she woke up and came to work. And apparently, at 10:08am, she decided that wasn't such a good idea after all. She was busy deleting the photo - which had 6 comments (many from co-workers) - and just generally waking up and getting over her shock, while I did probably a little more than my fair half of the work we were sharing.

11:00am Restaurant opens.
11:02am I greet the first table, which was mine
11:07am I greet her first table a few minutes after they've been sitting there because no one can find her. She was in the bathroom, I think throwing up.

3:45 I'm telling her I'll take any table(s) that come in before the night shift arrives, so she can get out early and go take a nap. Anyways, in small ways, I got to be a good teammate to someone who needed a little extra help today. Hey, we've all been there at one point or another, and I appreciate when others get my back when I need it.

Well Dear Reader, welcome to the restaurant business. These are my peers, and this is my life.

And ummm, no, I don't think I'll be letting my new co-workers friend me on FB, or see this blog ;)