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Hey all, long-time lurker here with my first post! I have a year's worth of waitressing stories saved up, but in light of recent events I thought I should share my most recent work-related trauma. I have recently started a new job, and just experienced my first SC there, so here goes!
The restaurant I currently work in is a very family-owned hole-in-the-wall type establishment. We have a total of 10 tables, and on weekdays only one person at a time will be serving customers. This is normally not a problem, as they only hire people with enough experience to be able to handle the entire floor on a moderately busy night.
Monday night was my first solo night. I had worked one day as a trainee and one weekend with another waitress to ease me into the routine, and it was decided that I should go on my own to see how things went. I went through the typical dinner rush around 5:30 with minimal problems, and everything went fine. Around 8:30, I went into the back to check on a table's order, and then returned to the front to see... THEM.
In no more than a minute and a half, five tables had walked in and sat down, and another party was walking up to the door, all coming from our local high school's graduation down the road. I'm pretty sure I spaced out for a moment while the little voice in the back of my head screamed "Fleeeeeee!" in an increasingly tinny falsetto. I steeled myself and planned my attack, intending to swoop in, drop off menus, and deal with them as methodically as I could (I am a very calculating person when it comes to these things, it helps keep me sane). The elderly lady at the first table I came to had other ideas.
The second I handed her a menu, she started rattling off her entire order, finishing before I had even finished fumbling around inmy apron for my notepad. She then motioned for her companions to do the same, ignoring my frantic scrabbling and helpless, apologetic glances to the other customers. When I finally had my order pad ready (balanced on top of a huge stack of menus for the other customers), she had the gall to roll her eyes and sigh heavily when I politely asked her to repeat what she had said. It wasn't much, but her impatience was enough to throw off my entire rhythm during the rush. I managed to fumble my way through the rest of the night, and thankfully most of the other tables were very understanding when I seemed a little frazzled. However, it was enough to make me question my sanity at accepting another waitressing job.
The restaurant I currently work in is a very family-owned hole-in-the-wall type establishment. We have a total of 10 tables, and on weekdays only one person at a time will be serving customers. This is normally not a problem, as they only hire people with enough experience to be able to handle the entire floor on a moderately busy night.
Monday night was my first solo night. I had worked one day as a trainee and one weekend with another waitress to ease me into the routine, and it was decided that I should go on my own to see how things went. I went through the typical dinner rush around 5:30 with minimal problems, and everything went fine. Around 8:30, I went into the back to check on a table's order, and then returned to the front to see... THEM.
In no more than a minute and a half, five tables had walked in and sat down, and another party was walking up to the door, all coming from our local high school's graduation down the road. I'm pretty sure I spaced out for a moment while the little voice in the back of my head screamed "Fleeeeeee!" in an increasingly tinny falsetto. I steeled myself and planned my attack, intending to swoop in, drop off menus, and deal with them as methodically as I could (I am a very calculating person when it comes to these things, it helps keep me sane). The elderly lady at the first table I came to had other ideas.
The second I handed her a menu, she started rattling off her entire order, finishing before I had even finished fumbling around inmy apron for my notepad. She then motioned for her companions to do the same, ignoring my frantic scrabbling and helpless, apologetic glances to the other customers. When I finally had my order pad ready (balanced on top of a huge stack of menus for the other customers), she had the gall to roll her eyes and sigh heavily when I politely asked her to repeat what she had said. It wasn't much, but her impatience was enough to throw off my entire rhythm during the rush. I managed to fumble my way through the rest of the night, and thankfully most of the other tables were very understanding when I seemed a little frazzled. However, it was enough to make me question my sanity at accepting another waitressing job.
Welcome to CS! 
), so I had to either only use one hand all the time or leave my notepad on a nearby counter. Normally I'm so smooth with years of practice, but it was so awkward, I felt like a baby trainee all over again.
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