As you may have seen on my profile, I work in a restaurant.
Now, the food industry is not for everyone. It's very stressful -- the work is fast-paced and people are really, really demanding. Some people aren't going to tip you well no matter how hard you work. Some people will go so far to tell you how great you were, that you're the best server they've ever had, and they're so grateful... then you get to the table to find a shitty eight percent tip. Some people think ten dollars on a hundred-dollar bill is an amazing tip! Hell, some people know you were great and know they're stiffing you, and just don't care.
But really, that's the gamble you take in this business.
Just to add a personal story in for everyone's amusement: I was working the lunch shift today and was sat with a party of two. The girls looked to be about eighteen, and one of them was rather large. Not monstrous, but clearly a big fan of food. This actually encouraged me a bit, figuring they would get appetizers as well as dessert to go with their meals (and I was right).
I greeted the table and immediately sensed dislike radiating outward from Chubs. She answered all my questions in a flat voice and acted as if it was far to much effort to actually tell me what she wanted, that I should be extricating it all from her mind somehow. In short, she was a bitch.
Anyway, I bit my tongue and stopped myself from pointing and drawling, "Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat," and eventually managed to take the orders for their appetizers and dinners. Apps came out fine, it was Chubs's dinner that was the problem. Her baked potato didn't have enough -- are you ready for this? -- didn't have enough butter. The two huge scoopfuls buried under the mounds of cheese and bacon weren't enough! Are you fucking serious, lady? You're going to die at the ripe old age of 28 from cardiac arrest when one of those chunks of butter gets lodged in your artery. And no, I won't feel bad.
Long story short, I gave the cow her extra butter, and everything else, including the giant brownie dessert, came out fine. I was courteous, I was quick with refills, I was on the ball. Still, at this point, I wasn't expecting more than a twelve percent tip, max, regardless of the forty dollar bill the two had racked up. So finally, I brought the check and to-go boxes over, thanked them as usual, and tended to my other three tables. Some time later, I picked up the plate they had placed over their money and...
Three dollars. Wow. Didn't even break ten percent. That hurts.
Another thing many people don't know (or just don't care) is that waitresses literally live off their tips. No joke. We get paid $2.63 an hour, usually just enough to cover the taxes the government takes out of our paychecks, and sometimes we still owe money at the end of the year. Because of this, people who tip like shit are essentially letting their waitresses go hungry (of course I'm exaggerating here, but really now).
Conclusion
To all you people who have ever tipped below twenty percent to a good waitress: eat me.
Now, the food industry is not for everyone. It's very stressful -- the work is fast-paced and people are really, really demanding. Some people aren't going to tip you well no matter how hard you work. Some people will go so far to tell you how great you were, that you're the best server they've ever had, and they're so grateful... then you get to the table to find a shitty eight percent tip. Some people think ten dollars on a hundred-dollar bill is an amazing tip! Hell, some people know you were great and know they're stiffing you, and just don't care.
But really, that's the gamble you take in this business.
Just to add a personal story in for everyone's amusement: I was working the lunch shift today and was sat with a party of two. The girls looked to be about eighteen, and one of them was rather large. Not monstrous, but clearly a big fan of food. This actually encouraged me a bit, figuring they would get appetizers as well as dessert to go with their meals (and I was right).
I greeted the table and immediately sensed dislike radiating outward from Chubs. She answered all my questions in a flat voice and acted as if it was far to much effort to actually tell me what she wanted, that I should be extricating it all from her mind somehow. In short, she was a bitch.
Anyway, I bit my tongue and stopped myself from pointing and drawling, "Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat," and eventually managed to take the orders for their appetizers and dinners. Apps came out fine, it was Chubs's dinner that was the problem. Her baked potato didn't have enough -- are you ready for this? -- didn't have enough butter. The two huge scoopfuls buried under the mounds of cheese and bacon weren't enough! Are you fucking serious, lady? You're going to die at the ripe old age of 28 from cardiac arrest when one of those chunks of butter gets lodged in your artery. And no, I won't feel bad.
Long story short, I gave the cow her extra butter, and everything else, including the giant brownie dessert, came out fine. I was courteous, I was quick with refills, I was on the ball. Still, at this point, I wasn't expecting more than a twelve percent tip, max, regardless of the forty dollar bill the two had racked up. So finally, I brought the check and to-go boxes over, thanked them as usual, and tended to my other three tables. Some time later, I picked up the plate they had placed over their money and...
Three dollars. Wow. Didn't even break ten percent. That hurts.
Another thing many people don't know (or just don't care) is that waitresses literally live off their tips. No joke. We get paid $2.63 an hour, usually just enough to cover the taxes the government takes out of our paychecks, and sometimes we still owe money at the end of the year. Because of this, people who tip like shit are essentially letting their waitresses go hungry (of course I'm exaggerating here, but really now).
Conclusion
To all you people who have ever tipped below twenty percent to a good waitress: eat me.
8 comments:
I had a good laugh over this post. Now I have another blog to get my dry humor fix from! Look forward to more posts.
^_^
Now this is the kind of writing our beloved interweb needs more of. A truly enjoyable read. Even gave some insight into your industry.
Fat people suck.
I promise to try and not make this a waitressing blog.
When did you agree to wait tables? When is graduation?
And AMEN to that post.
Jill, I miss you!!
And I started serving just a couple weeks ago. They're not giving me any good shifts yet :(
You should come in and sit with me some Sunday night :)
That was a hilarious and interesting glimpse into your life. I hope there's more where this came from.
I'll do my best.
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