Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Don't Brag About Your Money Unless You're Sharing

My Hooters has a regular who has three houses. Yeah. He's a CEO of some company or another, and he's loaded. He does not hesitate to let me know this.

Now, I may sound like a brat, but he really had some bad luck, because on the day he met me, the table right next to his left me a $50 tip. On a $43 tab. And these were some sweet guys I had just met who had not mentioned having any money at all, so I was stoked.

Naturally, when some pretentious old douche comes waltzing in talking about how much money he has, I expect him to leave a hefty tip. Maybe I'm asking too much, but I get 20% from most of my tables, I would hope Daddy Warbucks can shell out a little more than that.

No such luck. I still get to hear about his houses though. Ugh.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Weekends at Hooters

More and more of my weekends are becoming my work week, while I get a couple days off during the week. This weekend was no exception. I worked Saturday and Sunday night, and made about $165 total. Meh.

A few of the customers more than made up for it though. Saturday night, I got pretty busy, but the rush was short-lived and I actually left the store for half an hour to get more receipt paper. When I came back, I still had no tables.

During my rush, I did get two women who looked like they were in their early thirties. They called me over, and I hoped nothing was wrong (I also had a LOT of shitty customers that night, hence making $82 when I should have made more like $100). No, they were smiling. One of them spoke up, "Oh, we just wanted to know about, like, working here."

I looked at them with what must have been horror and thought immediately of KH's (a fellow Hooters blogger) most recent post about a woman too old to be applying to Hooters.

They weren't though. They didn't clarify, but they just asked me what it was like working there. Most of it was the same stuff I get everyday, but they also threw in this gem:

"Do you have to, like, write your measurements on your application?"

I laughed. I laughed HARD. Then I said no, of course not. We filled out a standard application that asked for work history, education, etc., and then we had an on-the-spot interview. I'm sure the managers are looking for certain physical qualities, but asking for our measurements? It's a restaurant!

Then last night, one of the other girls had a table of about 10 frat boy types. They were all in Iraq and had just come home, and they drank too much and hit on all the waitresses, but I'll take fun drunk guys over stuck up picky customers any night. And they were very entertaining. We had a limbo competition.

So I'm working again tonight, and then I get a day off. Thank goodness.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009


It's been awhile, I know, but there really hasn't been anything interesting to report. I've had ONE asshole-ish table, and that was three guys who 1. spilled wings everywhere, made no attempt to clean it themselves, and actually asked me to bring them something else as I was in the middle of cleaning it, 2. intentionally dumped their ashtray on the floor, and 3. left a 12 cent tip.

But really, other than that, it's been fine. I've been stressed with breakups and school and work and going out of town a lot, so I haven't had a lot of time to post (especially on the nothing that's been happening at work). I'll try to do better, I promise!

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

My Favorite Group

of people to serve is the 5-6 young business guys on their lunch break or on their way home. Last night, even though it was dead and I ended up getting cut, I had one of these tables. First tables of the night, too. And even though I only served about 5 tables after them, I felt like I was busier than usual. That's because I spent all my spare time with them, showing them how to spin on the bar stools, hula hooping with a pitcher of water on my head, and just having a fun time.

I wish more of my customers were that laid-back.

Friday, September 25, 2009


"I'll have the fish 'n' chips."
"Uhh...*goes to look at the menu*"
"...I hope they still have that."

You mean in the 20 minutes I waited to take your order because you were the FIRST one there waiting on the rest of your group, you didn't even open the menu?!

Rule #38262: Don't play guessing games. LOOK AT THE MENU. That's why it's there!

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Eff. UFC.

I had the worst night yet last night. It was UFC, but it wasn't a very important fight (so I hear), so it was busy, but no lines out the door or anything. I had the worst section on the floor because I had second to last pick, but my manager had already put me down for that one so I just said I'd take it. I didn't really care.

My first two tables were nice enough. Two guys who bought a shirt, and an older couple who left me a 50% tip. It all went downhill from there though.

At some point, I had a younger couple who were very nice. The woman told me about how she knows what it's like to live off tips because she was a server, blah blah blah. Then they left a crappy tip. Thanks, dbags!

It didn't get busy until later, but once it did, I wanted to kill myself (and my tables). I had an 8-top that just wanted to throw back drinks, and got mad when I cut one of them off (He TOLD me he was drunk. Moron). Plus, after cuts, four girls were gone and I had twice as many tables as I started with, all of whom had been there drinking who knows how much for who knows how long and I pretty much ignored them. I had a table of regulars I didn't get to spend a lot of time with because they weren't even in my section, but their waitress was puking her brains out in the bathroom because she's preggo. I took over another girl's table too after she was taking forever to greet them and they found me first. Even after I put in their drinks, one of them actually TAPPED ME ON THE SHOULDER WHILE I WAS TAKING SOMEONE'S ORDER AT ANOTHER TABLE. How. Rude.

None of those were the worst table of the night though, not by a long shot. The worst was this group who came straight from the Hillbilly Parade, and they showed up about half an hour before closing. Ugh. They were complaining from the very beginning. They wanted to sit at a table that was already sat, the people were playing pool though. Complain some more. They sat across from it (they wanted to be there to be by their friends they never even interacted with - and the friends were jerks too). I pretty much let one of the other girls run the table, because I could tell they were going to be irritating (my manager confirmed it later, they come in whining on the regular). I put in their drinks after she took the order, and I took the food order. They ordered 50 wings. Plus the women ordered all sorts of crap they weren't going to touch. 50 wings 30 minutes to close. Eff them in the mouth.

After all the food was delivered, I mostly ignored them. I was dealing with the table of Alcy's, who tipped surprisingly well considering the mom was shooting me death glares for cutting off her baby boy). The other waitress checked on the food, yadda yadda yadda.

Fast forward to five minutes after one. That's right, CLOSED. Guess who's still there, chatting away? Yeah, the table of 10. I go over to see how things are going and this is the exchange that followed:

"Can I get some more tea?"
"I'll check. I'll be back in just a minute" I go and see that the tea container has been moved because LAST CALL WAS 20 MINUTES AGO.
"Sorry, the tea has been brought back for the night."
"Get me a water then."
"I'm sorry, the spouts on the soda machines have been brought back, too. But I can bring you tap water if you like."
"Yeah, water. With lemon."
"The lemons have been thrown out."
"Do y'all just throw out everything as soon as you're closed?!"
"Well, yes."
(Another hick) "Well you should let somebody know!"
"We did last call 20 minutes ago."
"Well we didn't hear it!"
"We sang a song in the front of the room."
"Don't you hear how noisy it is back here?!!"

Somehow, they were the only ones who didn't hear us shout the last call song, not that it matters because we were CLOSED. They hung out until 1:30 before leaving. I went home and dreamt about throwing a pen at someone and getting fired.

Friday, September 18, 2009

I Don't Understand People.

I was pretty sure when I started that I knew at least a few of the types of people who tend not to tip well, if at all. Teenagers are the worst. If only they realized once they had to start paying their own bills what a pain it is to wait on someone hand and foot only to get 0 dollars out of them.

But that is not the group I dealt with yesterday. It was my first table of the night, and I realized from the beginning I had a few factors working against me: 1. They were more than a little redneck, and 2. They had just finished a tab with another waitress, and therefore already tipped one person.

Still, I only had the one table, so I hung out with them, put up with Billy Bob's repeated attempts to get me to go home with him, and got them refills promptly.

The total was about $55. The tip? $4.
I wish they taught how to tip at Jeff Foxworthy's School of Hicks.

Note: I realize that the only other time I've mentioned getting a lousy/nonexistent tip, I also said that I did a great job serving them. I do know when I can't devote all my time to a table and they get less-than-fabulous service. I forget things and mess up, but I know I didn't with these particular groups.