Can you smell what Environment Canada is cooking?

Excuse the recent plague of spelling errors in my posts, many of them have been from my phone which is surprisingly stupid despite it's misnomer and "smart phone". Moving on the Iphone in conjunction with Yahoo! tells me the forecast of Toronto next week features sunny skies and highs of 13 degrees Celsius which may or may not be greek to many readers. To me this translates to 55 degrees possibly 65 degrees based on the inaccuracy of environment Canada and....PATIO SEASON!!!! I'm currently scheduled for 2 12-5 straight through doubles next week. While officially illegal by Ontario labor board standards I've not heard a single server in Toronto complaining about these shifts. It means 12-14 hours on continuous serving time in the sun! For Canadians the chance to make some vitamin D and be paid for it is like mana from heaven.
In Atlanta working on the patio meant mosquitoes, sweating, 2 months of enjoyable work and potential heat stroke not to mention the possibility of the legendary pop up storms. These storms could and would blow the shingles off a house as well as all the cutlery off a patio table in a matter of minutes. Here in Canada patio season means $$ and the promise of constant business. Last year I was downtown for busker fest. The busker fest is a sort of street fair in which talented street artists from all over the world come to Toronto to show their talents and (if I'm not mistaken) all their profits go to charity. I walked around last year in awe of the sheer amount of bodies on the streets. I saw the amount of people at restaurants near the site of the festival and marveled at their business. This year I'm working at one of these destinations. I am both excited at the prospect of making money and dreading the stupidly long shifts. The idea of DYING to get in the back to gobble down whatever leftovers you managed to bring with you after last night's drunken cooking escapades or whatever remnants you can salvage of the lunch you ordered 3 hours ago is not really pee down your leg exciting. Sure, you can order food but the guarantee of 10 minutes to each lunch is a myth, much like the female organism or a tax return. The only thing more cut throat than a server near rent time is a hostess with a wait for the patio.

YAY SUMMER!

I thought I told you to get rid of that

Pardon me, as a heads up I've been to see my bartender friend already so I'm not legal to drive. Today as I got to work my manager saw my server book. This is the most prized possession, the bible to servers. It's where we keep our pads of paper, our money, pictures of loved ones that we're not seeing on that 5-4 am shift, and our lives. My life caught the attention of our AGM and was told I needed to get rid of it. I nearly cried, really. This book means so much to me, I've had it for 5 years. Pictures of everyone lives in it and it's truly sentimental to me in a way that few things are. Sure it's frayed around the edges, there's a big florida gators sticker on it, and it has a few obscene stickers inside but no one notices that. That is to say but the man that calls himself a "real fucker to work for". Later on in the night after seeing me he says "I thought I told you to get rid of that". This book is my kryptonite, my source of power. No matter how many times you call me buddy or try to be nice to me you make me get rid of it let's face it, I'll set your car on fire.

A filet? A sirloin?

I'm freee! It's 4 am and I've been at home and pants free since 2. I had the best thing ever, a server and their sibling in my section tonight. This translates to free $$! It was a good night, I shared a section with my faaavorite person to work with and didn't have to start until 7 pm. I was out by 1, God answered my prayers for not only a full service dining section but also a slow night. I made decent money and have only one more night to my week, I may ask to close. Shocking isn't it? I had a few chuckles moments tonight. One being from last night actually, and as I'm not posting from my Iphone hopefully there are fewer typos.
Last night I had a table of 20, and after an entire night of waving their hands in the air, flagging me down, pointing to an unmarked glass and saying "What was this? I'll have another one" (yeah....like I remember) one (sober) woman asked me my name. After informing her she went on to tell the group "call her by her name or don't call her at all. Hey girl, hey waitress or even excuse me is rude". My jaw hit the floor, literally such a display of humanity and respect is rare. Rad, really cool. I was happy to serve them and quite a bit quicker I might add, that is until one middle aged gentleman after one too many old speckled hens starts inspecting a wooden pillar too closely then asks for a cab home. You sir have been overserved..oops let me steer you away from prying eyes like security or managers while I discreetly call you a cab.
Then tonight, after describing the chef's cut an 8 ounce bacon wrapped filet mignon I had this conversation:
"What kind of filet is it?"
"beef sir"
"Yeah I know that but what kind of filet is it?"
"I..uh..I'm not sure what you're asking me sir"
"what kind of filet is it? A sirloin?"
"Um, no sir, it's a filet mignon, a beef tenderloin"
"Oh, no I don't want that, I'll take the filet burger"
Literally the same thing, then asked me for no onions. I asked if he had an allergy or simply a preference against them. "No, onions are very smelly and I don't like them they make my eyes water, plus I don't like caramel so, no onions". Caramel and caramelized are two different things. So, he got onions and he raved about the burger. Awesome, I'm smiling because you just tickled me to no end.

Here is the work environment

So last night I worked with two people who are usually my favorite people to work with usually. Last night was different one left after 3 hours because she was too tired to work then sat at the bar and drank with the manager for an hour. The other cut and run cause she had cramps this didn't really bug me until I realized silverware had not been done. I hate silverware I always always stab myself it's true I'm not compable with knives. Then I find out that another girl had asked them both to let her close and said no and made me close instead. Ooh sneaky! I'm not really mad but this led to what one muscle bound drunken beef head guest kept calling my look of anger. I wasn't angry, that's just my face there you testosterone driven muscle burp. This guy had the need to telle over and over he worked in a restaurant awesome so you know I'm just humpring you until last call right? Then proceeds to ask my life story which by the way now I just lie about, a lot. Some days there was a fire and I had friends here some days I'm on a visa travelling the world someday it was just a whim. Fact is I am not going to tell a stranger especially not one wearing more cologne than I am my life story. Then he and his look alike friend proceed to tell me to take off my apron and dance with them. Sir I can see your nipples through your shirt do I look like I'm interested in dancing with you? I've seen you trying to pick up that girl who is obviously not interested in you just the drinks you keep buying her. Your dancing did not impress het nor will it impress me. Needless to say I was happy to just do my closing side work and avoid the drunks. Hopefully tonight I'll be in the diningroom. I dread Friday nights.

Can you smell 15%

So when your check comes and you see a gratuity added to it do not be alarmed. We're not trying to pull the wool over your eyes orcheat you out of money. Truth be told we lose money that way. Most places charge a 15% grat after tip outs which range from 4 to 7% we are walking with less than 10%. Soooo if you feel you can spare it an extra 5% is greatly appreciated especially when you break glass and sit there for 8 hours and have a tab of 1100 dollars.

Ode to a double

I was supposed to work this morning. Instead I am laying in bed listening to the trash men and thinking how much money I'm missing out on. I'm too lazy to even get my laptop so this is coming from my iPhone. The newest waste of money I need to work but laziness gets the best of all of us from time to time. Rest assured I'll close tonight and be told all about the recent drama, what I missed by not going out tuesday and how much my coworkers hate their jobs. You thought I'd have a lazy day didn't you? WRONG!

silence of the irish

I survived another St. Patrick's day. March 17th is the busiest bar day of the year. Contrary to popular belief no one makes money, no one other than the house that is. A line up around the block at 6 pm, a house full of drunks and the highlight of my night other than another server giving me a found 10  bucks for having a shittiest night was telling people to "get the fuck down"! Excuse me sir, with the reindeer  boxers (in march no less) Oh? Can you not hear me? I'll push you from across the table. Yeah, you, get down. Oh? Can you still not hear me over your off key singing that I can't hear over the roar of the crowd and the pounding of my head? That sound in my head yeah that's the imminent sign of a stroke. Fuck being nice I'm going to push you off the bench and say "GET DOWN". Hi! You're being treated like my dog, actually worse than her. Happy st. patty's day.