Wednesday, June 15, 2005
joys
ah, the joys of a job in food service.
there is a constant stream of horrible and wonderful people that filter through the front doors.
an old man comes in daily and states, not asks, that he always gets a free cup of coffee. he is older and comes in alone and noone has the nerve to tell him that that is not the way a resturant works.
a young boy, about 7 or 8 years old, knows the name of every server and draws us pictures when he comes in.
a woman, a regular, never looks us it in eye. she is above us lowly service industry employees. she insists to be treated as if it were a five star resturant instead of a star-less diner.
the little old lady that occasionally graces us with her presence seems so pleased with herself that she can give us a huge tip. smiling she presses fifty cents into our hands. if we look disapointed at this meger sum it would break her heart, so we smile and thank her politly.
the people who invaribly arrive, expecting full service 15 mins before we close.
these are the people that make my job worth doing. they keep me going back each day. and make me bang my head against the wall every time the hour draws nearer.
there is a constant stream of horrible and wonderful people that filter through the front doors.
an old man comes in daily and states, not asks, that he always gets a free cup of coffee. he is older and comes in alone and noone has the nerve to tell him that that is not the way a resturant works.
a young boy, about 7 or 8 years old, knows the name of every server and draws us pictures when he comes in.
a woman, a regular, never looks us it in eye. she is above us lowly service industry employees. she insists to be treated as if it were a five star resturant instead of a star-less diner.
the little old lady that occasionally graces us with her presence seems so pleased with herself that she can give us a huge tip. smiling she presses fifty cents into our hands. if we look disapointed at this meger sum it would break her heart, so we smile and thank her politly.
the people who invaribly arrive, expecting full service 15 mins before we close.
these are the people that make my job worth doing. they keep me going back each day. and make me bang my head against the wall every time the hour draws nearer.
posted by Jody @ 9:03 PM 
