Today I'd like to start with an apology. Last time I wrote, I said that I would begin to post on a more consistent basis. Well, apparently that was just a blatant lie because here we are a week later and this is my first post since. Nice.
My bad everyone. No promises that I won't make a false promise at the end of this one too.
I'm sure you all don't want to read about me apologizing for the next few minutes though, so we'll move on now.
So, almost a month ago I went back to work. From July to September of last year, I worked as a Host/Dishwasher at a pizza restaurant. I recently got the opportunity to return as a Server's Assistant. This position requires that I do almost everything a server does except for actually serve. I don't mean to sound boastful, but I have practically mastered some very important skills that you probably haven't. Need someone to fold a pizza box? I'm your guy. Need someone to polish some cutlery? Sure, I'll do it. Need someone to book you a reservation over the telephone? Look no further. I'm pretty much a god amongst server's assistants. That is not a confirmed fact.
This job has genuinely been a great way to keep me occupied. I have been working Friday and Saturday each week, and sometimes Thursdays. I mean, how else to spend a Friday night than by sanitizing bathrooms? Covid or not, that sounds like quite a rush.
Since I have only gone back to work again recently, I have had to get used to the position. The restaurant I work at has two different locations, and this is the first time I have worked front-of-house at my current location. I have to run food to tables every now and again, which means I've had to memorize the table numbers. The table numbers at the restaurant are utterly confusing. If I can remember correctly (even though I usually can't!), it goes 10, 11, 14, 16, 18, 21, 22, 30, 41, 42, 51.
Seriously, what?
I don't know if strange table numbers are a common restaurant trend or if my restaurant is just edgy like that, but it's very confusing. It has caused me to bring the wrong food to a table a couple of times, and it's just so horrendously awkward.
It goes like this: I walk up to a table with what I think is their food in my hands. As enthusiastically as possible, I say (for example) "Ok, I have a Beef Pepperoni Pizza and a Fig and Goat Cheese Salad!" After this, the guests who I just presented the incorrect food to look at each other in silent confusion, and I realize my mistake. I then look up to see the folks at the correct table staring at me, their eyes piercing straight through me. They clearly know it's their food that I have, unlike I do. At this point, all I want to do is run with extreme speed to the back of the restaurant and hide there forever. I am currently yet to act on this impulse, but I'll keep you posted.
I'd like to end this segment by saying I am not a terrible employee.
I honestly really enjoy my job, and I am grateful for the opportunity I've gotten to get back to work.
I have an ever-growing list of work stories, and I'm sure this won't be the last one you hear.
Ugh, there I go making promises at the end of a post again. Classic.
I'll have another post tomorrow! In a few days!? Next week!?! A year from now! Eventually.
Til' then!
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