Thanksgiving always seems to sneak up on me. I see it coming, I know very well it will be here, but when it's due to arrive I turn away and let it catch me by surprise. This year it's a bit more strange, because Thanksgiving does not mean a vacation, but rather more work. At Pappadeaux, business has been steadily picking up, which means that the weeknights are more lucrative and the weekends more chatoic. At the college, we're moving slowly towards final exams, which will probably send small flocks seeking economics tutoring my way. I must say, I'm not enjoying it.
An unpleasant proportion of the students that I get at the college have done little or no reading on the subject they have trouble with, which leads me to want to punch them in the face. My job is essentially to build on a foundation laid by the professor and the book, not to build the fucking foundation. This seemed to be clear to me and some of my students, but then again I also thought that the 15% tipping rule for good service was universal.
Oh!--before I ramble on a little more, I must crow! I made my first 50% tip on Sunday morning: $20 on a $40 check. First one of the day, too. I actually made more money on the slower Sunday lunch shift working fewer hours than I did the night previous. How resplendent is that? Very resplendent, I say!
Sadly, I'm not certain that green pastures await me at Pappadeaux any longer. As I was explaining to one of my colleagues, I am much more of a finesse server than a speed server. (Yes, this goes for most other things as well.) I struggle when I'm dealing with too many people, and I am less interested in making money and more interested in being liked than most. If I had the choice between waiting one large table and probably making $20 or one small table and probably making $10, I'd probably go for the latter because I'm exponentially more likely to screw up with the large table, which would probably drop my tip, leave the guests unimpressed and leave me demoralized, whereas the small table would probably go the opposite way. As these holidays come in, smaller tables will be fewer, and the precious moments of lull that I thrive on will be filled by very quick turnaround times. Plus I have to go to school. If at all possible, I'd like to get out of those job just after Christmas. I think that would give me enough time to chillax just a bit before heading back into the jungle that is higher education.
And now I'd better sleep. I have work tomorrow. My fellow waiters would be excited at the prospect of making some money. I'm praying for a comparatively slow night. Hasta la byebye.
P.S. Soccer game on Monday went 3-0 by forfeit again; another scrimmage yielded a result of something like a 10-1 loss. We can't pass worth shit.
P.P.S. That's four in a row now, bitches.
An unpleasant proportion of the students that I get at the college have done little or no reading on the subject they have trouble with, which leads me to want to punch them in the face. My job is essentially to build on a foundation laid by the professor and the book, not to build the fucking foundation. This seemed to be clear to me and some of my students, but then again I also thought that the 15% tipping rule for good service was universal.
Oh!--before I ramble on a little more, I must crow! I made my first 50% tip on Sunday morning: $20 on a $40 check. First one of the day, too. I actually made more money on the slower Sunday lunch shift working fewer hours than I did the night previous. How resplendent is that? Very resplendent, I say!
Sadly, I'm not certain that green pastures await me at Pappadeaux any longer. As I was explaining to one of my colleagues, I am much more of a finesse server than a speed server. (Yes, this goes for most other things as well.) I struggle when I'm dealing with too many people, and I am less interested in making money and more interested in being liked than most. If I had the choice between waiting one large table and probably making $20 or one small table and probably making $10, I'd probably go for the latter because I'm exponentially more likely to screw up with the large table, which would probably drop my tip, leave the guests unimpressed and leave me demoralized, whereas the small table would probably go the opposite way. As these holidays come in, smaller tables will be fewer, and the precious moments of lull that I thrive on will be filled by very quick turnaround times. Plus I have to go to school. If at all possible, I'd like to get out of those job just after Christmas. I think that would give me enough time to chillax just a bit before heading back into the jungle that is higher education.
And now I'd better sleep. I have work tomorrow. My fellow waiters would be excited at the prospect of making some money. I'm praying for a comparatively slow night. Hasta la byebye.
P.S. Soccer game on Monday went 3-0 by forfeit again; another scrimmage yielded a result of something like a 10-1 loss. We can't pass worth shit.
P.P.S. That's four in a row now, bitches.
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