My 8 hour day lasted 5 minutes. I swear.

I got slammed today. Oh. My. God. Worst day to work the front section EVER. From like 8:30 a.m. to like 11 a.m. my section was full. Constant turnover, demanding customers (cranky bikers, anyone?), and my memory being completely shot. I'd walk by a table like, three times before I'd finally serve them coffee. Its like being blind, but stupider.

On the bright side, I made out like a bandit on tips. I got excellent tips today, and I'm not sure why. I felt like my service sucked. I was running on fumes come noon.

Oh, on the subject of tips, apparently sucky coworker was getting diddly squat on tips today, and around lunch decided to invade my section. She look... 3 of my customers from the front section instead of *gasp* taking the counter, which is HER section! She told me she had nothing all day, and then neglected the counter for like, 2 hours. One guy was sitting very patiently for a half-hour before I decided to serve the poor dude. I got tipped $6 for it, too. Maybe if she actually did her job instead of sitting around chowing down on full plates of food and idly stirring her coffee, she'd make some goddamn tips.

I also found out that after I left yesterday, our little short order cook (omg she's so adorable) had to serve two of sucky coworker's customers because she was in the back shooting the breeze with our boss about something that didn't have to do with working. Sucky coworker took the tip when they left, when she hadn't done shit for them. I'm starting to watch my tables more carefully, now. Its getting ridiculous. She LOVES to 'help' me clean off tables. And do my sidework. Its like she expects me to tip her for it. I don't know how much longer she's going to last. I mean, we're desperate for a good waitress, but she's such a bitch I don't think any of us are going to deal with her much longer. 

I told our oldest waitress, role-model, about all of this. She set the platter down that was in her hands, looked me straight in the eye, and told me "Hun, you have seniority here. You need to tell her to back off. That's your section, not hers."

I think I'm going to take her advice if this keeps happening. I missed out on another $20 or so in tips because of her. Goddamnit.

Oh. Sexual Harassment Panda came in today, but for once, he was behaving. I bet he figured out he wasn't getting his side of waitress between the sheets, ever. 

Ah well. I have the weekend off. Huzzah.

French Fries, I smell like them.

And so does everything else I happen to bring with me when I go to work. And most of my laundry. Now it makes sense as to why I'm hungry after a shift.

I worked 8 1/2 hours today with only the occasional 5-6 minutes to sit and roll silverware. I have to say, its not as bad as it seems, now that I have the whole "foot pain is all in my head" thing down pat. 

The past week has been rather dead, customer-wise. We've had parties, but all the farmers (like 50% of our customer base) are out fighting the elements to try to bring their crops in before they mold out in the fields or snow starts pouring down from the heavens. Which will probably be soon. Fucking weather.

On the up-side, Sexual Harassment Panda hasn't been in. No offers for relations with a man eligible for AARP, no crappy tips for two hours of endless coffee refills. It's rather nice, when I think about it. But I do miss the majority of the opening crowd. Its much too dead at 5 a.m. to justify me coming in at such an ungodly hour (which I get to do again tomorrow, yay!)

There's one thing I'm starting to get sick of, though. New coworker. Not only does she pad her tip amounts by wearing the lowest cut shirt she can manage, she keeps trying to poach my customers. See, when you work the back section, which is smaller; you get the front counter. By lunch, she was bitching that she wasn't getting a lot of tips (which happens. Deal with it.), and kept taking people at the counter, to the point where I had to swoop in to take orders when she had her back turned. She took at least four of my customers TODAY, and I have a feeling she took my tip from an 6-top a few days ago. In fact, I know 100% she's tried to snatch another coworker's tips before, and she isn't allowed to work the register (making more work for me, damnit) because of it. Yeah. Fun.

So I've got 8 more hours of work before my week is over, and I (think) I get paid friday! hooray! Ugh I need money ;-;

New Job, New Blog. Sob.

So, honestly this job isn't that new. I've been drink bitch and dishwasher, and hell, even tablewipe at this establishment for oh.... about a year. Maybe a bit longer. But I'd only do it once a week for dinner service, and really, it wasn't that busy.

Well, this year, with one of our servers off in "Oklahoma" (kudos to those of you who got the reference), and another on "permanent vacation", I got picked to be a waitress. Hell yeah. 

So I've been working here for about... oh... three weeks. I got trained in about two shifts, and got most everything down in about three. Other than the occasional bit of bitching by my boss (who is probably slinging hash that day to give our adorable little short order cook a break), I'm doing pretty good.

But, after only working at this greasy spoon for like 12 shifts, I've had some weird stuff happen. Like the guy I like to call "Sexual Harassment Panda"

Sexual Harassment Panda is a spry old bastard with a brain-to-mouth filter that is LONG overdue for a changing. The first day I opened the restaurant I became his favorite, if only because I was young and had *gasp* breasts! It now seems to be a running gag with him to ask me to brush up against him, which I can handle. No biggie. I can ignore his crap for .02 seconds a day. Its when he asked me for a side order of "waitress between the sheets" that I got pissed off. It wouldn't be as bad if it wasn't for the fact that this guy is in the restaurant every day for 1-2 hours at a time, downing coffee like there isn't gonna be another pot in about 2 minutes, and wiggling his cup at me like the dick has palsy. And he tips 50 cents. Every day. Every. Single. Day.  Sob.

Then there was first day when I called a guy "Miss" by accident as I thought about serving the chick behind him coffee. He didn't like that. I get that. I don't like it when I get called a dude or whatever. No big deal. I apologize.

Next time I pass by, he calls me sir. I laugh and tell him it isn't the first time someone's mistaken me for a guy (I can look like I have no tits in a sweatshirt and baggy pants. I swear). He goes "I can't imagine how." And then stares at my breasts. EYES ARE UP HERE, THANKS.

One more before I post, because well, I'm lazy. 4 TOP THAT REFUSES TO TIP. 

This one happened to me today. I got a four top. Middle aged male, middle aged female, younger woman, younger man and a munchkin that's probably about 2. At first, I'm okay with these people. It's been slow all day. Larger tables mean bigger tips. Hooray.

I knew this wasn't going to go well when the middle aged woman asked for Decaf coffee "not too weak, not too strong." I stand there and wonder "Uh, do all the restaurants make you your own pot of decaf exactly to your liking? No? Thought so" as the others rattle off their drink orders. Three waters and a Coffee. Cool. At least the others are low-maintenance. I meander off to take a few other table's drink orders and come back with the three aguas and the red-brown swill we call decaf (yes, it really does shine red in sunlight. Its creepy). At this point, they want to order. Warning sign number two occurred at this point: She asked for her eggs "like, not scrambled. I want them cooked on one side, then flipped and cooked for another minute". This is about the time when I wondered why a 40-something woman couldn't remember that this type of egg is called "Over-easy". I decipher the rest of the orders for the group and shuffle off to turn in their order. A few refills of Decaf later, the young man asks if we have Cappuccino. All I could think is "dude, this isn't Starbucks." I should add that this restaurant's main specialty is dirt-cheap food. Like, full plate of food for $3 cheap. There is no way in hell my boss would drop like $100 for a cappuccino machine when he won't even fix our coffee makers on a regular basis. I tell him nope, we don't have cappuccino here. Then, he wants to know if we have those fancy-schmancy vanilla creamers. Once again, we're not starbucks. We're a hash-slinging, coffee pouring, breakfast serving greasy spoon. We don't HAVE your fancy creamers here, Damnit!

I tell him no, we don't have those either. At this point he asks if he gets a cup of coffee, are the refills free? Cue my head wanting to hit the table repeatedly. We're a breakfast joint with a zillion old people here. Trust me, they wouldn't be here if the coffees weren't bottomless. He finally decides he'll have a cup of coffee, and Oh! He'd like an order of toast. I ask him if he wants white or wheat. He goes "the brown kind." ........ So you want wheat toast then? "No, I want white bread, but toasted." This man was OLDER than me! 

So, finally I get out all the food orders for this table. Middle Aged woman is bitchy because her eggs are a bit overdone. K. Fine. So I get her new ones. They're Ok, and she goes back to nomming on bacon and whatever the hell else she ordered. In the next 30 mintutes or so, I know checked on them at least 5 times, refilling coffee, taking plates away, clearing what I could. Check goes down, I wander off as they get ready to pay and leave. My coworker gets 'em at the register as I play soda-jockey for a few other tables. I go and clear the table after they leave and lo-and-behold, 35 cent tip. $30-something check, 35 cent tip.

I talk to my coworker to see if maybe they handed her cash for me, as many regulars happen to do that. Nope. Apparently they told her that indeed, did not leave me a tip, as they didn't have enough money to do so. She also said that the man paying had plenty of money in his wallet, and really, he was just being an asshole.

Sob. I just ran my ass off for you and your "white toast is brown" son-in-law or whatever, and you pay me 35 cents? Bite me. Seriously.

I'm done ranting for the day.