Answered One Call Too Many

, , , , , , | Working | March 12, 2019

(I work in a small, four-person office for a restaurant and catering company doing events management. The owner is something of a control freak and tends to micromanage everything, which means that the busier we are, the more stressed out and neurotic he becomes. During our busiest time of the year, the holidays, it isn’t uncommon for him to be more of a hindrance than a help. On this particular day, we have several events happening around town as well as in the restaurant, one of which is a simple delivery. My coworker gets a call from someone at the company with instructions for the day. Unfortunately, the owner is crossing through the room as he rushes around, getting things ready, as she gets off the phone.)

Coworker: *to me* “Hey, who’s doing the delivery today?”

Me: “It should be [Assistant Catering Manager].”

Owner: “No, it’s [Catering Manager]. Why? What’s going on?”

Coworker: “Oh, it’s nothing. The person from [Company we will be delivering to] just called and said that when [Catering Manager] is getting close with the delivery, to call the manager and they’ll get him in the garage.”

Owner: “No no no, we’ll call her, and she can call the manager and tell them to let him in.”

Coworker: “But then, he’ll have to still call us?”

Owner: “Yes.”

Coworker: “So… you want him to call us when he’s getting close, so we can call her, and ask her to call the manager?”

Owner: “Exactly. So, you can just tell him that when he comes to get the food.”

Coworker: *long pause* “Okay.”

(We just gave the catering manager the number we had been given to call in the first place.)

1 Thumbs
375

H2-Oh No…

, , , , | Right | February 20, 2019

(In college I work for an offshore caterer. It is a Saturday in June, one of the busiest days of one of our busiest months. It’s the kind of day where we are always a little bit behind, simply because we have more deliveries than we have vans to deliver them. I show up to this customer’s house about fifteen minutes late.)

Customer: “Hi! We’ve been waiting for you!”

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry but we are slammed today. I see your guests won’t be arriving for another hour. That’s plenty of time for me to get set up and out of your way.”

(I begin bringing everything in and setting up the chafing dishes. She has a very nice table setting, and I’m very careful not to mess it up.)

Customer: “Are you sure that’s enough water in the pans? Won’t it run out?”

Me: “Yes, this is plenty, especially since all the food trays are deep; if you put too much in it will spill out all over this beautiful table.”

(The real reason is that the water keeps condensing and re-evaporating, but I don’t have time to give her a lesson in thermodynamics. I go out to get the trays of food, and as I am dropping the first one into its water pan, I can feel it hit the water, but it’s too late, and water sloshes out all over her table. I look up, stunned.)

Me: “Oh… um…”

Customer: “Oh, no! I put more in because I thought it wasn’t enough!”

Me: “Well, I did say…”

Customer: “Now my table is all messed up!”

Me: “Yeah, well, I’ll just empty these out and bring in the rest of the food, then.”

(She still tipped me, though.)

 

1 Thumbs
547

Unfiltered Story #139393

, , | Unfiltered | February 8, 2019

I worked as a server for a catering business. We primarily catered weddings and rehearsal dinners for upper class clients, our venue and menu were pretty pricey. At the time, I was also in high school, as was many of my coworkers. One particular wedding was a younger wedding and they were partying pretty hard. It was the end of the night and people were leaving or going back to their rooms. There were a few stragglers who were all pretty drunk. One guy approached me and invited my friend and I back to their room to party. I politely told him that that wasn’t possible because we still had a lot of work left to do. I did not mention that it was also against our company policy to party or stay with guests. This is how the conversation proceeded;

Guest, “Well let me help so you guys can get out faster, like collect the linens.”

Me, “No, that’s alright we have 15 year olds for that.”

Guest, “I’m 15 years old… Below the waist.”

Me, “Uhhh…”

I had no idea what to even say to this. I mean, what does that even mean? Either way you look at it, it was NOT a compliment. His buddies proceeded to laugh hysterically. So, I awkwardly just walk away. I take the full glass tray that I was holding to our break down room. I turn around and the same guy has followed me in there.

Me, “Uh, what are you doing?”

Guest, “I thought we were going to the bathroom.”

I assume to hook up.

Me, “No, definitely not. You need to leave.”

He left, I hope quite embarrassed. I later told my  boss about it and we had quite a good laugh about it.

It is still one of my favorite stories to tell.

Has A Masters In Millennial Problems

, , , , | Working | November 7, 2017

(I graduated a few years ago, but due to the “experience problem” still haven’t managed to find a suitable job. Currently, I’m doing uneducated hospitality work, like catering, banqueting, etc. in a congress centre. One morning, I have a conversation about all and nothing with a colleague.)

Me: “Well, I like being treated like an adult, you know? I mean, my age and my master grade might be signs that I am an adult, don’t you think?”

Coworker: “You have a grade?”

Me: “Yes, university.”

Coworker: “Then, what are you doing here?”

Me: “Earning actual money.”

1 Thumbs
399

I’ll Have My Steak Done All Of The Above

, , , | Right | September 13, 2017

(I am working a woman’s 60th birthday at an upscale catering hall, taking dinner orders from my tables.)

Customer: “Filet mignon, medium rare-well.”

Me: “Medium well?”

Customer: *in the most hoity-toity voice imaginable* “Medium rare-welllll.”

(The woman is looking at me like I’m stupid, and I have little-to-no patience, so due to process of elimination, I jot down “MR” for medium rare and move on. [Looking back, I should have just put medium.] After the dinner orders come out, she runs up to me, and aggressively grabs my arm.)

Customer: “My steak is not cooked enough! It has pink!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. I’m pretty sure you requested medium rare.”

Customer: “Medium rare-well!”

Me: “There is no such thing as medium rare-well, ma’am. I guess what you are requesting is a medium steak. I’m sorry about that, I’ll put it back on the fire.”

Customer: *scoffs*

(I take the steak back into the kitchen.)

Me: *to chef* “Is there any such thing as a medium rare-well steak? Am I missing something?”

Chef: “Nope.”

1 Thumbs
673