Just a Few Pointers for the General Public

As a former restaurant person (server, bartender, admin, etc) I have had my fair share of dealing with the public. What I've learned over the years is simple: people are crazy. They are also crabby, snotty, mean, spoiled and sometimes stupid. Now, I'm not saying ALL people are that way, but there is a large part of the population who fall into those categories. And I've had the misfortune of dealing with many of them. This post will hopefully be able to educate some people about the different ways to behave in public and what not to do in regards to eating at a restaurant, especially in a fine dining setting.

Many restaurants have policies regarding reservations, seating and menu substitutions. Those policies are set in place for a reason. I worked at a restaurant that would not seat a party until the everyone had arrived. That meant people could wait in the lounge or bar area until ALL of the people they were dining with had joined them, then they would be seated. However, many people did not like that policy. Here's a tip: If you don't like it, then by all means complain to a manager. The hostess and servers do not have the power to change the policy, and treating them badly for enforcing a policy they have no choice but to uphold will not get you anywhere. That being said, if you don't like a restaurant's policies yet you choose to eat there on a regular basis then quit complaining. Instead, maybe you should go elsewhere. After all, if the restaurant is still getting your money then what is their incentive to change the policy? Another contentious subject is reservations. Many restaurants take dinner reservations, but do not offer them at lunch. Even if you call and yammer on about how your Aunt Ethel is visiting from Alaska and she has always wanted to eat at this restaurant.....blah blah blah, the answer will still be no to a lunch reservation. My personal favorite was the time a woman called in to make a lunch reservation for 3 people. When I respectfully told her we do not take lunch reservations, she told me that her friend's husband had died and couldn't we make an exception because her friend really wanted to get a table for lunch. Um, no. Menu substitutions can also be tricky. If one of the menu offerings is Chicken Pecan Salad, that means it contains pecans. No, they cannot be picked out because you don't like them. Order something else.

Another issue I've dealt with when interacting with the public is what I call the "crystal ball questions". This is when people call the restaurant (usually before it's open) and ask if it was going to be busy at noon on Thursday. Chances are, the answer is yes. But unless someone has the ability to pull a crystal ball out of their ass and look into the future there is no way of knowing how busy a restaurant is going to be on any given day. And if that person did have the ability to look into a crystal ball, you can bet they wouldn't be working at a restaurant and fielding inane questions from the general public. Also, restaurants serve food and beverages, they are not to be used as reference guides to a particular city. If you want to know the hours of a store down the street from the restaurant then call the store, not the restaurant. I had a person call me one day and want to know the hours of the store across the street. When I told her I didn't know but she could call the store and ask them she asked me to walk across the street to find out. I respectfully declined, as it was the middle of a lunch rush.

Tipping is yet another touchy subject. Today the norm for tipping is 20%. If the service was exceptional, feel free to tip more. If the service was poor, then by all means tip less and feel free to tell the manager about your experience. If the service was good but the food was not then don't take it out on the server, as they did not cook the food. Let your server and/or the manager know exactly what you didn't like, but again, don't take your dissatisfaction out on the server. And if you say you don't like something but there is nothing left on the plate but a few crumbs, don't expect a free meal. You ate, you're buying it. That's how the game is played. Tipping on carryouts is also appreciated. I'm not saying 20% is needed, but at least 10% should be added to the total. After all, your food has been carefully packaged along with the forks, knives, spoons, napkins, bread and crackers plus all the extra items that you asked for, so showing your appreciation might not be a bad idea.

I could go on, but I think I've gotten the point across. Oh, one last thing - flossing after a meal while still sitting at a table in a restaurant is unacceptable behavior. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of oral hygiene. But trust me on this: NO ONE wants to watch someone floss in the middle of a crowded dining room. Do your flossing elsewhere. Maybe underneath the rock you crawled out from under to go to lunch.

Well I feel better now. Don't you? And aren't you glad I'm out of the service industry? I am.

First Day of School!!!

Well today was Laely's first day of 2nd grade! She was a bit nervous but way excited. Every year since pre-school I have managed to take a few photos of her in front of our house and in front of school. And by a "few" I mean no more than a dozen shots per camera. (I use both my cell and our digital camera.) Go ahead, laugh. Maybe I do go a bit overboard. But someday I'm going to need proof that I was actually taller than she was.  For a few years anyway.

Stop Bitching and Get Moving.

As I have stated before, I work with the public. It can get kind of stressful, especially during busy times. Trust me, you don't ever want to tell a lady that the particular entree she has driven 2 hours to enjoy has already sold out for the day. (I've seen seemingly sweet little old ladies be as mean as snakes sometimes if they can't get their quiche fix.) Working in a restaurant is not for the faint of heart. It requires thick skin and marvelous acting capabilities at times.

Many people enjoy working in the service industry because of the money that can be made, or they like the hours or because they just don't know what else to do. However, there comes a point in time where maybe it's time to ease out. If you work in a restaurant and you go around cussing out your co-workers or bitching that ALL of your customers tipped you like shit or the restaurant owner doesn't know what he/she is doing, etc....then perhaps it's time for you to move on.

We all have choices in life. If you don't like your job then you have 2 options: A.) You can quit. Or B.) You can stay at that job and take it up the ass. But making other people miserable just because you are isn't something you have the right to do. I've had the misfortune of working with people like that and a few recent incidents have led me to realize that I don't ever want to be "that" person. If you're bitter because life didn't work out the way you thought it would then maybe it's time to regroup. Life is what you make of it. If you aren't happy with your life then take stock of what you are doing versus what you want to be doing and then go about forging the path to what you want. In the meantime, stop bitching. And get out of my way, because I'm following the path to my dreams. More to come on that particular topic later....

Love, Life and Relationships

I've been thinking lately about life, love and relationships. My parents just celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. Forty years! Can you imagine? I've been with my significant other for the better part of 10 years, but sometimes it feels like 40. Just kidding...or am I? Anyway, I have learned (the hard way) that relationships can be hard work sometimes and care must be given to them so they do not crumble. Love is often about give and take along with laughter and quite possibly some heartbreak. My relationship with John has not always been easy. There was a long period of time during which we both walked away from each other only to realize later that we really do belong together. (It must run in the family - my grandparents divorced after around 25 years or so of marriage but then remarried each other 5 years later.) 

In a weird way, I think John being away for military training has strengthened our bond. For the first few months we had very limited contact, as he was not allowed access to a phone or a computer. We mostly communicated via handwritten letters, in which we updated each other about our daily life and accomplishments. There's something to be said about putting pen to paper and scribbling away the good, bad and ugly about the goings-on of life. I have known John for well over a dozen years and we were friends before we ever dated. But at this point,  I feel as if I know him so much better now (on many different levels) even though he is hundreds of miles away on a military base, due largely in part to the letters we exchanged. 

Having said all that, I am relieved that he is at a point in training that allows us to communicate more. We talk, text and send pics via our cell phones just about every day. I hope to see him in person at least one time before he comes home in October, which means another 500 mile trek (one way!) to a military base, with two kids in the backseat jabbering and singing Katy Perry or Taylor Swift the whole way. Oh the things we do for love....

On Cleaning and Being (Driven) Crazy

So today was officially my last day of vacation, as I head back into the workplace on Tuesday. I'm sure most people would spend their last day of sweet freedom just relaxing and maybe reflecting on the time they were able to spend with their friends and family. Alas, not I. Oh no - because along with the mountains of laundry I did (some of which were bigger than the ones we drove through in West Virginia, I swear), the mopping, vacuuming, bathroom cleaning, dishes, etc....I also decided to clean out and rearrange Spawnderella #2's room. This was a very involved process, as the child has seemingly developed packrat tendencies during her 5 years on this Earth. (I plead the 5th on which parent passed that particular affliction onto her.)

When I moved her bed, I found oodles of items underneath of it that had not seen the light of day for years - some of which were toys and some of which were dustbunnies of disturbing proportions.  I took the vast majority of toys out of her room and after the bed and dresser were in the new spots, I started to bring toys back in.  However, much of the clutter, ahem.... toys, got sent to the far away land of "Donateville" and did not get put back into her room. The absolute faves, like the 1.2 million Barbies, Barbie house, car, etc. did make the cut. Most of her books and creative items also stayed, as did the big pink monstrosity also known as the "hair salon". The majority of her friends aka stuffed animals found their way back into the pet net which hangs in the corner of the room. This was a very long, involved process that took quite some time, as you can imagine. However, I believe the end result is well worth it and Spawnderella #2 just loves her "new" room.

After doing all of that work, I was ready to relax. Dinnertime rolled around and they sat down at their respective places .....and promptly started screeching at one another. Now I realize that I only have 2 children, but sometimes the amount of noise they make rivals the din of the trading floor on Wall Street. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

Me: "Please please please can you two just stop screaming at each other. It doesn't matter if Barbie wants to marry Ken or another Barbie. It doesn't matter if she wears white or black at her wedding. I don't care who she marries at this point, but I do know that if you keep up with this noise you are absolutely totally going to drive mommy crazy."

Moment of silence.

Spawnderella #1: "Um, Mommy. I think you're already crazy. But not in a bad way, I just think you're a little crazy. It's ok though. We're used to it."

Gee thanks, kid.

Home Sweet Home

Friday morning dawned clear and bright in Charleston, SC (and hot, but that probably goes without saying). The girls and I made the executive decision to attempt to make the 11+ hour drive home in one day. From Charleston  to home is around 680 miles, which is definitely drivable in a day.....or so you would think. But when you're driving down the highway at 70+ miles an hour in South Carolina and your youngest daughter pukes all over herself it kind of puts a damper on the journey. Especially when the other daughter is giving you a play-by-play of the vomit-fest from her vantage point in the backseat, sitting directly beside said puker. What's a parent to do?

Well, this parent pulled over at the next exit and hosed her daughter off in a Hardee's restroom - hardly the ideal spot but beggars can't be choosers. After Maya's clothes were changed and the car was as clean as I could get it without using a pressure washer, we hopped back on the highway. Needless to say, that incident cost us some serious time, and I was a little worried about Maya. She proceeded to pass out for a few hours until we were in the mountains of West Virginia. That was about the time a thunderstorm decided to hit, and although it was not even 6pm it looked like it was midnight as all light had left the sky. Add in a lot of lightning, thunder and a torrential downpour and throw in some heavy winds and you have my basic recipe for being scared shitless while driving. So we decided to pull over in good old Beckley, WV for the night. (Yay for me that I had the foresight to book a hotel room "just in case".)

I checked into the hotel, hosed Maya off some more in the shower and headed to dinner, as she had perked up a little due in part to napping through multiple southern states. I guess we were boring company though, because she almost fell asleep face down in her pasta. As soon as humanly possible I got her back to the hotel room and she passed out for about 12 hours. When Maya vomits or shows other symptoms of being ill, I kind of maybe possibly turn into Stresserella, or so I've been told. But because she is immunosuppressed and can get sick very easily, I have good reason. I kept putting cold washcloths on her forehead and racking my brain on what I should do if she got worse. Call her doctors? Find a children's hospital? Call the National Guard to Med-Vac her? I was in the mountains of West Virginia, so my options were kind of limited. However, at 7:30 in the morning the dear child woke up and asked if the hotel would give us breakfast. She was completely recovered and had all of her energy back (and then some). So after breakfast we hopped back on the road and made the 4 1/2 hour journey back to home sweet home - where I promptly cleaned out my car with detergent and an industrial vacuum cleaner. The puke smell is almost gone, but I'm sure the memories will last forever.

Charleston, SC

Well today we  made the trek to Charleston, SC. It should've taken us a little less than 2 hours, but it ended up being a three hour tour... from hell. There was an accident on I-26E as soon as we got on the highway. That set us back about a half-hour. Then there was another skirmish on I-95 which again backed up traffic on I-26. We finally reached Charleston to find (yet again) congested streets and people EVERYWHERE. As we were checking into our hotel we found out that American Idol tryouts were being held in town so everybody and their  brother (and their brother's brother) were there for the festivities. Joy.

We grabbed a (late) lunch at Bubba Gump's. Neither one of my girls have seen Forrest Gump, so they might not have fully appreciated the ambience, but they were entertained by the people watching and colorful surroundings. I couldn't get them to try any seafood, but I did snarf down some pretty darn good Shrimp Scampi.

One of the highlights of Charleston was the horse-drawn carriage ride we took around town. The tour guide and Dave the horse were very good at keeping us entertained throughout the hour long tour. The girls were especially enamored with the fact that Dave's mane was blond and braided and he also wore a diaper. I think all you need to entertain children sometimes is just to talk about poop.

After a brief rest, we walked to T-Bonz Gill and Grill for dinner. I had Crab Cakes (when in Rome and all that jazz) and 2(!) glasses of wine. (It is my birthday, dammit. ) Of course, that made me an easy target for the girls when we went shopping afterwards at one of the many tourist traps, ahem, little shops in the area. Oh well.

Tomorrow I think we will begin our trek home. Not sure yet if we will drive the whole way through or stop in good old Beckley, WV again, think it'll depend on my mood. Who am I kidding - it will depend on how crazy the girls are driving me.