Restaurant Work: The Noble Profession

Have you ever worked in a restaurant? If not, I think you are missing out on one of life's great experiences. I'm sure many people consider restaurant work to be one of the lowest forms of employment. I cannot deny that this is many times the case. So, why do I refer to it as a "great experience"? Because it is an experience to be that amazingly miserable.

I have worked in restaurants while in college and ever since college. Does that make me a slacker? Maybe, but I have a sweet resume for restaurant work, and the pay as a waiter, for the amount of work you do, is second to none. While burning away many an evening waiting for hungry people to arrive to dine, I have had time to whittle down the actual job that I do to its bare essence: I ask people what they want, then I get it for them, and if I do good, they give me money. There are lots of ways to dress up being a waiter, but it always boils down to this. I find it strange that the American culture features a requirement to tip waitstaff 15% or more for doing their job. Yes we only get paid like $2.50 an hour, but only because we are expecting tips. The entire industry is pretty much designed around getting a little something extra out of people.

Of course, in other countries, they only tip 10% or less or maybe nothing at all. Foreigners are cheapskates when it comes to tipping. This is a notorious pain in the ass for many American waiters. As soon as you hear some Euro-accent, we have to roll our eyes and think, "Oh great, foreigners. Hopefully I can scrounge 5% out of these tightwads." I find it hard to believe that Europeans visiting America are not aware of the tipping culture we have here. I think the ones that don't adhere are just stubborn jerks, who think to themselves, "5% will do, I am not American, I don't have follow American customs." Well, when you are in America, you kind of do. I'm pretty sure that in Europe, men greet each other with big wet sloppy kisses, but if you did that in America, you'd get your ass beat. Okay, so maybe I made that up, but I don't think its that far from the truth. I've been to Europe. I've seen their spikey hair, tight jeans, and pointy shoes.

The restaurant that I currently work at is inspired by Swiss ski lodges in the Alps. So, for whatever reason, pretty much every European who comes to ski in Jackson Hole, eats at our restaurant at least once. I find it strange that Euros seek out a place with what they might consider familiar food. If you are on vacation in America, you should go get some fuckin' cheeseburgers or something! I mean, when I went to Europe, did I eat at McDonald's? Well, okay, I guess I did... on multiple occasions, but we're not discussing my dining habits abroad. We're focusing on the weirdness of Europeans on vacation. So...yeah. Euros are weird.

Enough, about my struggles against the European people, back to my original intention with this blog post. Restaurant work is wonderfully miserable.

Throughout my life I have met, by far, the strangest people working in restaurants. From the waiters, to the cooks, the dishwashers, and the managers. I think you have to be half crazy to enjoy restaurant work. Or you have to love to be miserable or maybe just be real stupid. I remember when I got a job at the first restaurant I ever worked at, the summer immediately after high school. It was like culture shock as to the weird-ass people that worked there. I have to admit though that no other restaurant job I've ever had has topped the weirdos at this place. The head cook, would swear up a storm every time he got an order. The other cook appeared to be a meth head, skinny and missing half his teeth. The pizza cook was some old hippy stoner. The prep cooks who I worked with everyday were two fat ladies who had the filthiest mouths I'd ever heard from females. Some retarded guy washed dishes and mumbled at everyone who walked past. It was like a fuckin' circus. For the first few days, I didn't talk much and tried to just make it through each shift. I must have looked like a scared puppy. Before working there I didn't even know that people like that existed in the town I grew up in. I guess my parents did well in sheltering me from their kind.

Once I finally got a job waiting tables, I got to see how weird the people are who eat at restaurants. Pretty much every night you just have to wonder, what kind of weird, unreasonable request will I get tonight? You never really know. People are picky as fuck. If you are going out to eat at decent restaurant, why add a bunch of special request to your order? Just trust that it is gonna taste good.

Also, after about three shifts in a row of waiting tables, you start to crack. You start wondering why you work such a stupid job, you start getting depressed, and you get closer and closer to flipping out on someone. I have a way of dealing with this, I just start telling people no. Yeah this is a restaurant, but can you get whatever you want? No. "Can I get some special vegetables instead of the ones you are serving tonight?" No. "Can I get a little extra cheese for free?" No. "Can I get some water with no ice?" No, we are only serving one kind of water tonight. It makes you feel a lot better to shoot down stupid requests.

"Can I have a clean glass? This one is dirty." No. We're out of clean glasses. You'll have to make the best of the one you have.

Ha!

I could keep this discussion going, but I pretty much have endless gripes about working in a restaurant, so I'll cut it off here as I feel I have covered some good topics thus far.

Thanks for reading!