Week of 1/11/10

Life at the ol' Roadhouse proves to be an adventure in itself; each time I go into work I do not know what to expect.

This past Sunday four elderly women were enjoying a nice get-together. As I cleaned the booth adjacent to theirs I heard one of the group members complaining about the heat and not feeling well. Their waitress asked if the woman was alright and she replied "I think so." About fifteen minutes passed and when I walked near the table once again I noticed that there was a atmosphere of anxiety. The woman held her hand over her eyes and shook her head. I promptly reported the incident to a head server who notified the 9-1-1 operator. The EMTs entered the restaurant, ran some preliminary tests, and placed the woman on a gurney. She was wheeled through the restaurant, interrupting the line dance taking place in order to exit the building into the awaiting ambulance. Her friends finished their meals and left in a hurry. I came to find that the woman was simply suffering from heat exhaustion. I attribute the excessive heat to the current state of renovation of the restaurant. The previous days had been very cold in the restaurant as the new roof was being put on, therefore the heat had been cranked up more than usual.

Other occurrences this week were not as elaborate, but filled with pestering details. First of all, the young girls that work in the lobby put the first two letters in "hostess." Aside from their flirtatious nature, most of them do not know the definition of work ethic and expect to get paid for a minimal amount of work. Always complaining and always seating customers at tables before they are entirely clean, I often wonder where their sense of logic wandered. What customer wants to arrive at a table to see what the person before them was eating? Macaroni and uneaten prime rib fat anyone? I find it quite amusing that the hostesses are now required to greet customers at the door and find out how many people are in their party, simply because they regard this as a "hard, manual labor."

It is not only hostesses that complain, but customers as well. Recently this "larger" family came in to our restaurant on one of our busiest days. Because of the large crowds it was difficult keeping silverware readily available for hostesses to carry to the customers' tables. The family called their server over to the table and complained that they did not receive silverware as soon as they were seated and therefore they were entitled to a free appetizer. Reluctantly, the manager gave in. Why could they not understand that the situation was the same for the rest of our customers, yet they did not request a free appetizer? Soon after, I received an order ticket for a baby blossom to be delivered to table #331. As I rounded the kitchen corner I realized that this table was the "problem table" and that they already had a baby blossom.

--"Did you all order a second onion blossom, sir?"

--"No, but we will sure take it!"

--"Fat chance," I thought to myself.

I also got a chuckle from these two middle-aged couples that came into the restaurant the other night and were seated in an area of the restaurant with an air vent above. The four began to carry on a conversation about "a cold draft from an unknown origin" for about five minutes.

--"Do you feel that Margaret?"

--"I sure do! It feels like a draft"

--"Yeah, I feel it too."

--"A draft dear?"

--"Yes, a draft."

--"Where is it coming from?"

--"I do not know where it is coming from."

--"I do not either, but I feel it."

--"Yes, definitely."

--"But where could it be coming from? Do you know, honey?"

--"I sure don't."

--"Do you all want to move to another table?"

--"No, it is fine. I can just bear the cold the whole time."

--"Are you sure?"

--"I am sure."

--"Positive? Because I can get us another table."

--"Let's do that. I cannot bear this draft any more."

--"Is the draft really that bad?"

--"I think so. Do you think so Margaret?" ...

Oh, the adventures of working in the food business.