After a pretty sweet promotion, I found myself saying (yet again) “this is the last time I’ll be working in the service industry!”. If you’ve ever worked at a restaurant you know how much of a bullshit statement this is. If you’ve never worked in a restaurant then you probably think 15% is an acceptable tip amount and I can’t stand you as a person.
Since I’m a millennial that’s in debt and everyone I know is a millennial that’s in debt, we all know it’s nearly impossible to actually get out of the service industry. Once you realize you can make cash that fast without taking your clothes off, it’s tough to walk away forever.
While I enjoy my restaurant-free life for the next unforeseeable months, I thought I’d share some of my hard-earned employee wisdom with you so you can avoid the wrath of the evil hostess (me). Yeah I know, you’ve probably seen tons of hilarious server memes and likely follow the bitchywaiter on Instagram, but hostesses are the real ball-busters of the dining world, so I’m just going to go ahead and speak for all of them.
Try to avoid the following at all costs:
- Telling me you want “the nicest table in the house”. Just in case you’re curious, there is no part of any training (at least that I’m aware of) where the manager says, “oh just so you know, that table right there is the nicest table in the house”. As far as I’m concerned, all the tables are the same, except for the one that’s directly behind the host stand where you can hear us all talking about whether or not we like anal. Unless you’re into that, then that’s the best table in the house.
- Telling me you know the owner/asking if the owner is there. First of all, knowing the owner of a restaurant isn’t even a remotely cool connection, and I KNOW THEM TOO SO IT’S REALLY NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL. Furthermore, if you actually do know the owner so well then you’d know that they aren’t putzing around their establishment on a Friday night hoping you’d stop by without a reservation. Get real. Name dropping has never been and will never be cool.
- Showing up late to your reservation and getting butt hurt when I give your table away. We’re busy and we have tables to fill. If you can’t figure out how to call and say you’re on your way, you don’t deserve to dine out. I’m not allowed to show up 15 minutes late for my job, why are you allowed to show up late? Girl, bye.
- Asking me to call a cab for you. It’s 2016 are you fucking serious.
- Asking if we have a children’s menu. I understand that this one is subject to location but I’ve never worked at TGIFriday’s and don’t think children should be allowed in restaurants so just, don’t.
- Asking to move tables. CAN YOU NOT CAN YOU JUST PLEASE NOT.
- Touching me in any way, shape, or form. Don’t gently put your hand on my back and ask me where the restroom is. Don’t touch my arm and tell me which table you want. Don’t pull my wrist to drag me somewhere quiet and tell me you’re paying for the whole table. I’m not impressed.
- Asking me to turn the lights up/turn the music down. Do you think I have a fucking all-access panel in the host stand? It’s called ambiance, for one, and I would never change the entire lighting and musical theme of an entire restaurant so you can read the menu better.
- Telling me that you have to pee (or similar). You are a grown ass adult. Under what circumstance would it ever be acceptable to tell a complete stranger at work: “I really have to pee. Where are the bathrooms?” Ew. Put this phrase in your back pocket, and remember it forever: “Excuse me, where are the restrooms?”. NO OTHER INFO NECESSARY.
- Completely ignoring me when I great you. Hi there, welcome! *silence* Thanks, I’ll just go fuck myself.
Happy dining! I hope I never have to walk any of you to “the best table in the house” ever again.