I work at a restaurant in a resort hotel that has a roughly 400-person occupancy post-health crisis, and to say I’ve been getting burnt out is an understatement to the Nth degree. After a rough Friday and Saturday — fifty-plus-minute ticket times, an hour-long waitlist, and just a complete dumpster fire start to finish — I had absolutely no desire to go in yesterday. My faith in humanity was decimated. But I went, and holy s*** was it the best decision I’ve made this year.

The last table of the night was a twenty-two-top youth basketball team with eight adults. I was already pissed, thinking they’d make a mess and have a million split tickets. Then, an angel from the walk-in in the sky blessed me with their presence. All one ticket. More or less well-behaved kids. Everyone was nice and patient. Food came out right. I thought I was having a stroke or another work dream. This angel of a man who was taking care of the tab tipped me $1,200 on top of the included $240 gratuity.

I have never in my life cried from happiness at work in my life. Sad cry? Yes. Angry cry? Abso-f******-lutely. Work July Fourth lakeside and the kitchen catches on fire cry? Just the one time. But never happy crying. This man gave me over $1,400 and could not have been nicer. And I almost called out. My faith in humanity is restored and my eyes are puffy from crying. To think I was dreading coming to work and almost called out.

I am a teen working in a popular local restaurant. It is at the end of a thirteen-year-old’s birthday party. The mother has been a complete nightmare the whole time. Everything goes fine until I’m clearing dessert at the entitled little man’s table where he is surrounded by his twelve- to thirteen-year-old friends.

Boy: “You’ve been absolutely great today!”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

Boy: “In fact, you’ve been so great that my friends and I have gathered a tip for you!”

Me: “That’s terribly sweet of you but I’m sure that’s unnecessary.”

Boy: “But I insist!”

He slides a nickel across the table while I have ten dishes in my hands while his friend snicker.

Me: “F*** YOU!”

I storm away so angry I don’t know what to do. It’s only when I reach the kitchen that I realize what has just happened. I cursed… at a “child”… on his birthday. I immediately go to the owner.

Me: “I need you to hear this from me before you hear it from his mother.”

I tell him the story, expecting to be fired on the spot. The owner is silent for a good ten seconds and then looks me in the eye.

Owner: “Good for you. Don’t you ever take s*** from anyone.”

Me: “You’ll probably be hearing from the boy’s mother.”

Owner: “Don’t worry. I’ll explain to her that I trust and care for my staff and she has a little s*** for a son.”

There was never a complaint, as I think the kid was too afraid or shocked to say what happened.

Not everything is terrible in the service industry if you have a boss that believes in you and backs you up. I was in the kitchen one day and almost backed into him, and he yelled at me, “Hey! Don’t look where you’ve been! Look where you’re going!” Best advice ever.

I work in a small chain family restaurant that serves a lot of home-style cooked food. Lately, there’s only a hostess on weekend morning shifts — my manager desperately needs to hire multiple front-end staff but just “hasn’t gotten around to it” — so it gets pretty hectic having to serve and hostess when it gets busy at night. I usually end up serving my section and hostessing for both me and the other waitress.

Tonight, Friday, the busiest night of the week, my boss had just me and the youngest server —she’s seventeen and she’s actually really amazing at her job — manning the restaurant. We work great together, but both of us being and looking very young makes rude and entitled people not want to listen to us. As soon as I started my shift at 3:00 pm, I covered the whole floor — twelve tables at full capacity — for an hour until the other server arrived, and then we split the floor. The first hour was quite busy, but it just got busier and busier after she arrived until we had to start up a waitlist.

I noticed a new customer at the front as I was bringing out a table’s food. As soon as I walked up to him and was in the middle of saying hello, he looked straight ahead at the one dirty table in the joint.

Customer: “I’ll take that booth; go clean it.”

Me: “I’m sorry but we are full and actually have a waiting list going. There’s one person ahead of you and it should be around ten or fifteen minutes for a table.”

Customer: “Just give me that table. I’m in a hurry; I have places to be.”

Me: “That table is actually for that lady behind you and it’s our only available one, but I can add you to the list and the next available table will be yours.”

Customer: *Points to closed tables* “What about those empty tables? Don’t want to sit me there or what?”

Me: “Those are actually closed for social distancing.”

Customer: “Aren’t there tables around the corner in the back there?”

Me: “They’re all full, as well; everything is occupied. Would you like to be added to the list or not?”

I’m getting impatient as I have about a dozen other tasks that would be much more useful than this conversation.

Customer: “Show me the list.”

Me: “There’s one person ahead of you.”

Customer: “Show me the list.”

Me: “There is only one person ahead of you.”

Customer: *Getting increasingly angrier* “Show me the list!”

Me: “That lady is the only person ahead of you; the next table will be yours.”

Customer: “GIVE ME THE LIST! I WANT TO SEE HOW LONG THE WAIT IS MYSELF!”

The guy literally tries to SNATCH the paper right out of my hands. I’m kind of shocked.

Me: “I am not going to show you the list. It has people’s private numbers on it.”

Customer: “What’s your name?”

I tell him.

Customer: “Well, I’m [Customer] and you’re in trouble. I don’t mean to be short, but people’s time is important, and you are wasting it.” *Turns to walk out*

Me: “I know it is, and so are you.”

I doubt he heard the last part but really hope he did!

It is during graduation week, the busiest time of the year for restaurants in my city. Generally speaking, this specific crowd, which consists mostly of parents and families from out of town, can be quite demanding, impatient, and stingy.

My boss always gives me large parties because I can handle them. My trick is to handle large tables as if they are a kindergarten class. I make a seating chart on my server pad and no one orders “out of turn.” I also communicate everything, e.g. “Now I’m setting your silverware for your main course,” or, “I’ve just checked on your order and the chef said it will take about another five minutes. Anything I can bring you in the meantime?” etc.

I have a super obnoxious family of fourteen. They’re indecisive and ask a lot of questions and take their sweet time ordering. They also interrupt and talk over each other. But on top of that, they’re very impatient and demanding. One of the sons is also trying to hit on me while I’m taking his drink order:

Customer: “Uh, so, what’s, like, the manliest drink on the menu?”

I personally don’t like to categorize drinks this way. Alcohol is alcohol and everyone has their own personal taste. I always try to ask after customer’s preferences.

Me: “Well, what do you normally like to drink? Gin, vodka, bourbon, tequila?”

Customer: *With a dumb smirk* “What do you like to drink? I bet you like something sweet.”

Me: *Internally rolling my eyes* “Actually, I’m more of a bourbon or whiskey girl. If you’re looking for something a bit strong, I would recommend [particular drink]. It’s one of my personal favorites and it’s actually quite popular with a lot of customers.”

Customer: “Oh… umm… how about this strawberry mojito?”

Later, as I’m bringing their food, many of the customers at the table interrupt me to ask for little extra things before I have everyone’s meal on the table. For example, while I have my arms full of hot plates, the grandma asks me for “ready cheese.” I’m not completely sure what she means, but I assume she means Parmesan.

Me: “Of course. I’ll bring that for you as soon as I’m done getting this hot food out.”

Note to customers: please wait until everyone at your table has been served before you ask for extras like ketchup, napkins, extra sides, etc. That way we can ensure that everyone gets their food while it’s hot. Otherwise, you end up complaining later that not everyone got their food or that your food is cold.

Even though the table was difficult, I was able to organize everything pretty well and still attend to my other tables. The customers later called back that evening and they apparently told my manager that it was “the best service they ever had, but they were terrified of me.” Honestly, that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received as a server!

My manager is taking reservations for graduation weekend, one of the busiest times for restaurants in my town. She gets this call from a woman who wants to make a change to her reservation.

Caller: “I already made a reservation for grad week for five people, but I was wondering if we could reserve a bigger table, like for six people.”

Manager: “Are you adding another guest to your reservation?”

Caller: “No, it’s still five people; we just need a larger table.”

Manager: “I’m sorry, but we are completely booked for that weekend and we need the larger tables for the larger parties.”

Caller: *Sighs* “It’s just… my husband… he’s just so fat.”

Manager: *A bit taken aback* “Oh, well, umm… perhaps we could find a smaller table to add to yours, but I can’t promise anything, since the seating plan will already be a bit tight. I’ll see what we can do.”

Caller: “Okay, I guess that’ll work. He’s… just so fat.”

Manager: “Okay, well, is there anything else I can help you with?”

Caller: “No, that’s all. Thank you.” *Mumbling to herself* “…just so fat.”