A few weeks ago I had a really awful morning at work, and a member at the country club suggested I blog it to humor others. So I think I will. I titled the blog after a children's book, because although humorous it is also true.
I opened at work, which means I have to be there at 7:30. We open for breakfast at 8 so there is not a lot of time to get everything together before we open. When I walked in the door, my busser for the morning was already there standing over the time clock (he's not actually suppose to be there till 8, but I assume he was trying to cheat the system). So I started to open everything. At 7:45 the busser asked if we were open yet. I told him no and asked why. One of our members was already sitting in the Grille, not infrequent for this particular member. So we got him a Diet Coke and he happily waited for his wife and friends to arrive. I was finishing up things in the kitchen, when the busser came in to tell me that there were people out there. I walked out to the Grille to discover 3 different tables all sitting promptly at 8. A table of 5, a table of 2 with a baby, and a few gentlemen waiting for more (they ended up being 7). So I started with the 5 top, got their drinks, took their order, rang it in and moved onto the couple with the baby. I should note that this particular busser is a bit of a "know it all". He seems to think that he's SO amazing at his job and also capable of doing everyone else's. Although it's quite the contrary, he's more of a jack of no trade and a master of nothing. So as I went to give drinks to the next table I asked the busser if he could start some toast for the first table. He looked at me puzzled and asked how to make toast. Baffled I did my best to explain it and thought "Oh Great!". I should've had a food runner at 8am, but he was late, again. I managed to get the first group fed, the second group fed and moved onto the 3rd. My busser was less than helpful, but I did what I could. Every time I walked out to the Grille there was another table, or something I needed to do. It was overwhelming, but such is the restaurant life sometimes. As I was standing in the kitchen waiting for a table's food, the busser was standing behind me. Suddenly he went running to the end of the line and started throwing up in a trash can. I couldn't believe it. I looked at one of the cooks and said "this day just isn't going to get any better, is it?" Just then my food runner walked in the door. Which was kind of a blessing, since I then had to send my busser home. This should've made the day better, but it didn't. It was just in general a very bad day. I won't continue with my bad day, but I hope you find some humor in my terrible, no good, very bad Saturday.
Ah Server Life!