service, please.

So this whole serving gig is new to me. I am used to dropping stuff off at tables, grilling sandwiches and heating up cold cinnamon rolls in the microwave. But fine dining?

My first moment of realization came during a lunch shift while training. Sonya was explaining to me how we remove first course before bringing second, and how we drop a knife or a soup spoon, in relation to the order, before the coordinating food item is brought out. But the knife and spoon need to be taken out on a tray...Not just carried in your hand. The back of your arm shouldn't ever be directed to someone's face, but rather, the inside of your arm, and the lady's food should be dropped first. This means you have to have the seat numbers in your head, and which direction the table is facing, before you take out the food. If the food is in the wrong hand, the back of your hand may be facing the lady when you set down the meal. This is no bueno.

On that day, she let me take a table all by myself. I am so used to dialogue, and feeling kind of equal to my customers. I have made many friends over my past few service industry years. But here at lunch, where people are paying extra for a good meal, they don't want to be my friend. I approached the table and immediately felt that invisible wall between the guests and myself. I took their drink order, and walked away feeling like a seven year old being ignored by her mother, because she was on the phone.

There had been foreshadowing of this before I was actually allowed on the floor. In the beginning, when I was just making coffee, hanging around in the back, I laughed at how two faced the servers had to be. I watched them charm, and attend to their tables every need on the south side of the restaurant, but once they crossed the dividing line, to the safety of the kitchen and register area, charm was gone. It was replaced with profanity, annoyance, complaints. "I f*%^ing hate the couple at table 10. He's so this, or that"..."can I have a water with no ice?" "The dad at the table is artificially nice, and it's insulting"...etc. After witnessing this for a few shifts, the sentiment was summed up by one of my co-workers: "We hate them (pointing south, to the front of the cafe) but we love each other (fellow servers)".

I thought about this idea...Automatic dislike of anyone. The conclusion leads me to my next fine dining breakthrough.

Yesterday was my first lunch shift to work as an official server. I clock in differently. Instead of indicating "expo" or "hostess", both of which receive a higher wage, I indicate "server". This, because I will "tip-out" at the end of the evening. I tried to meet my tables with kindness, and attentiveness. At times, I was likely too attentive. It's possible, when it's not busy, to "hover", which is likely annoying to the people that aren't wanting to be my friend, like I mentioned before. Once the table's cycle is done, and the guests are out the door, it's time for clean up. Cups, plates, and silverware are removed, and taken to where the dishes are done, trash is thrown away, and the ticket is taken from the table. So much rests inside the plastic black folder. The content's details are entered into the register. The tip is declared.

That's the clincher. Yesterday, when declaring these details, I realized how tempting it is to judge myself by the amount written in by the guests, that's added to the total. And that's where I think the disdain for customer may come into play. It's not how much they leave that leaves a stain of anger. It's the reality that the people walking through the door have o-so-much control over a server's daily life. When clocking in as a server, with the lower wage, you are clocking in with the reality that the day can go any way. There's no guarantee. It's easier to be naturally nice to people when they have no impact on whether or not rent will get paid this month.

These people, they don't want to be my friend, and they determine my financial future. What have I gotten myself into?