I Had No Idea

I slip on my most comfortable pair of shoes, while scarfing down a whole grain bagel in hopes that it will keep my stomach satisfied for the next 6 hours. It's 4:00 pm. On my way out the door, I debate whether or not I'll eat with the crew after our shift. Depends how hungry I am... and who I'm working with, of course, I tell myself. I've learned there is no way around the 3 stoplights promising to occupy at least 5 minutes of my commute, so I drive with no respect to speed bumps sloshing coffee everywhere. Fighting the temptation to groan about why the lights flash green but linger on red, I use the time to contemplate lyrics of worship songs. Boy do I wish we were more thoughtful with what we proclaim melodiously before the great and powerful God (your brain wanted to read 'Wizard of Oz' just then). 

Tying up my apron strings, I slyly (what an odd looking word) slip my phone into my back pocket. I try to clock-in but it isn't quite 4:45. That damn computer is too smart for it's own good. I take the three minutes to grab some water and hide it in the back, while surveying what needs to be done once I'm on the clock. Donned with aprons, straws, and smiles, we take turns clocking-in. Bread, cheese, silverware, candles, oil plates, lemons, pepper grinders, glasses, the patio, the plants- go! go! go!! Our preparation tells us it is the calm before the storm. 

Slowly, the guests arrive for dinner. Each party receives a pepper grinder with a distinct name we'll use to determine where the food goes and who needs what. Before you know it, we are bouncing around the restaurant like pinballs having been violently released into a wild course of ever-changing hurdles. Crystal Ball needs bread. Gangster needs an oil plate. Little Hands says they ordered penne with checca, not fusilli with amatriciana. Tall Red Top says their coke is too watery. Green Dot would like another order of the House White. Butterfly needs their food to be boxed up. Smiley needs a highchair. Green Dot decides they'd like a whole bottle of the House White now. Back and forth, back and forth. Crystal Ball needs to be bussed. Gangster needs refills. 

No time to think, just do. Constant state of reaction. No processing required. 

When the last table has been bussed and set, I feel as though I just withstood a hurricane. I become aware of myself again and take a controlled deep breath releasing all the paused thoughts to work their way to the front of my mind for processing. Here are the insights I've gained:

• Working at a restaurant requires a sort of ADD. If there is an opposite of ADD, I have it. I function in the work place with hyper focus on whatever the task at hand. I fully process every implication of each action and debate on the best plan of action before proceeding. This has been truly challenging for me.
• There is a science to carrying 3 hot plates.
• Servers tend to assume everyone is an idiot and can be very bossy and controlling. 
• There is nothing that can't be cleaned up quickly.
• Skin is amazing and vastly under-appreciated.
• Restaurants break things daily.
• There is an art to bussing tables.
• Restaurants are excellent places for people watching:
• Some people are very nice.
• Some people are very rude.
• Some moms hate fairies and rudely refuse grandma's gifts for the granddaughter due to this pixie prejudice. 
• Some people are creepy and like to ask personal questions.
• Some people share my dislike for ice. 
• The majority of women who don't fit comfortably in the chairs drink diet coke. 
• Georgians really do love sweet tea. (Watching it be made makes me gag.)
• Most people like to be smiled at.
• Some people don't like it when you check on their table.
• The majority of men don't like to admit they want a straw.
• Mom's with children will always ask for extra napkins before the meals come out.
• Dad's with children will always ask for extra napkins after the meals are half eaten.
• People like to sit by the windows. 
• People who sit in booths are usually higher maintenance than others.
• Some people are very messy.
• And most remarkably- why it's good manners to push in your chair. After all the years of being taught to push in your chair, you never thought it really mattered. Well, I'm telling you now- it matters. PUSH. IN. YOUR. CHAIR! I can't explain how annoying it is to bus a table where the chairs have not been pushed in. I will never forget to push in my chair when I leave the table.
• And of course, you never know when your server is splitting their tips with the whole crew, so tip well. ;)

I have a new found respect for people who do this as a regular basis. It may be brainless, but it's exhausting.