Pleyful

Real? I’ll show you real.

admin — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 01:21:24 +0000

Sometime back, I saw this review on a website that touts “Real people. Real reviews.” I am about to get real on it! My notes are indicated by *Bold* darlings- ready?

“Hubbie and I were thrilled for a fun Saturday night out. [Redacted] outside tables were full, but we went in and found that everyone had a seat. We “shared” a stool *took what we could get since this place is so popular, we didn’t want to be left out of the cool crowd.* and got the wonderful news from 2 people sitting down that they were about to leave! *Didn’t think there might be some system to getting a table other than to hover over others.*

Never in the 3-4 minutes we waited (in a tiny space *Low square-footage does not automatically equal low occupancy- you managed to squeeze two asses on one stool FYI*) did anyone at the bar say hello, nor did the server greet us. *Because the place was FULL- as previously stated in your first paragraph.* So, we sat down, happy to have scored a table. *It was probably covered in the previous guests filth still too, you inconsiderate bastards.*

Funny, because as soon as we sat down, the server informed us that people were waiting for that table! *Which one might think when a place the size of a dime is FULL when you walked in.* (In that semi-bitchy semi-polite voice *Oh, please, we’ve all used that tone when we feel like actually saying, “Hey asshole, do you have eyes?”* — I am not a rude customer *yes you are* and would not have taken the table had I known! To me, it seemed as if everyone was seated either at a table or at the bar *because NOBODY ever moves from the bar to a table!*).

So… we hung out on stools in the front for awhile, near a tiny little bar, thinking we would have a drink and maybe a snack. *Oh, you didn’t have to “share” a stool anymore? Did the people waiting for the table you stole leave a vacancy for you, hmm?*

Eventually the server did come back and check with us, and we replied we hadn’t decided what to order yet. She said OK… oh yeah, and could I please see your IDs when I come back? *Because in all your time wasting, you didn’t look at a drink menu and we don’t have all f’ing day to wait for you to decide- because the place was FULL.*

Overall I felt really unwelcome, and although had enjoyed my visit when [the] restaurant was new, [I] decided to leave. When I’m choosing to enter a place where I know I’ll be spending that much, I don’t appreciate the unwelcoming attitude of staff.” *Good, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out. There are people waiting to fill your vacancy too.*

Submitted by “Real Waitress”

This isn’t your home.

admin — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 21:14:32 +0000

One of my favorite things about working in a restaurant is seeing all the different people in the world. I especially love it when sweet, quiet, BEHAVED children come in. I would just like to remind all the parents out there, when you go out, it doesn’t give you the right to be a messy a slob. If you let your child throw food at home, eat and then spit out food onto the table, throw food on the floor and then step in it, spill water all over the place and not clean it up, or let them rub their dirty, slimy hands all over the windows, that’s great. But when you are in a public place where others are eating, it’s considered disgusting! I am not here to be your maid. CLEAN up after the mess of your little brats. If I wanted to have that job, I’d be your nanny.

Submitted by “Jones”

If you’re going to act like a 3 year old, I’ll treat you like one.

admin — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 04:13:31 +0000

Although I was glad for hot, sunny days this summer in Seattle, I must admit that I let the heat get to me when I was working. It’s different when you can sit at the beach versus run your ass off for some ungrateful douche bags, right?

Well, it was one of those 90+ degree days when a group of 4 younger (i.e. 21-25 ish) folks decided to plunk down on the patio. Being that they looked young, I asked them for their I.D.’s – no matter how you slice it, where I work is a BAR. It’s a BAR. It’s a BAR…With kick-ass food.

The first guy I approached for I.D. may have been stoned, drunk or just sun-fried, I don’t know- All I knew was there was no way I was going to serve him alcohol, but I wasn’t going to deny him food. He first said he didn’t have his I.D., but his poor girlfriend insisted (to him) that she had put it in his wallet and put that in his pocket for him. (Seriously guy? She did everything for you?) He then just wanted to argue with me about why he didn’t want to show me his I.D. and finally said, “I’m not even drinking!” and I replied, “Oh I know. I wasn’t going to serve you any alcohol.” He said something to the effect of, “Why are you being rude… what’s the big deal…” etc. So, I finally snapped. Instead of saying something witty or whatever, the first thing that flew out of my mouth was, “You know what? I’m not putting up with you. You can leave now.” I guess his childishness made me speak to him like a child- just exchange “You can leave now,” with, “Go stand in the corner,” and you have a conversation with a 3 year old.

It should be noted that I did tell his other 2 friends and girlfriend they were welcome to stay or come back another time, but to leave him at home. They were very sweet and apologetic for his behavior even though it was not their fault- unless they hosed him down with Summer’s Eve earlier in the day.

Submitted by “Lucy”

Battling Ennui

admin — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 15:20:26 +0000

How do you stave off the boredom of a slow lunch shift? One of my good friends at my place of work one day ran up to me shaking with laughter, and told me that he had just taken three items to a table; two bacon burgers and a pulled pork sandwich. Ordinarily, a fairly routine exercise in the life of a waiter. However, he, and we’ll just call him Mike, decided to have a little fun and see if he could get away with a bit of mischief. He arrived at the table, announcing the items as he placed them in front of the respective guests;

“I have a bacon burger, and another bacon burger, and then the barbecue beef curtains.”

After which he slinked away from the table, hardly believing what he had just done, and practically ran over to me to unload that he had just called the pork sandwich, essentially, a sloppy beefy vadge. Nasty.

Submitted by “BBQ Lover”

Iron Chef Part 2

admin — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 20:33:56 +0000

How has Iron Chef affected my life part 2: A customer actually asked a waiter (who then asked me-the cook) “does the kitchen do anything sous-vide?” I told her to tell them I’d put their food in my underpants for 1/2 an hour, but she didn’t take me seriously. But she took the cunt who asked the stupid question seriously! Then she fucking said we SHOULD do something sous-vide!! Fuuucck Me! “Oh I’m so-fucking-phisticated! I’m so smart because I watch the fucking cooking channel and have the mental acuity to remember a couple of terms. ” No you’re fucking not!! You’re a stupid fuck who’s got an inflated sense of self-worth and a job that pays you too much! I’m not against technology and innovation, I’m just against having no imagination, skills, or vision. I’m against putting a “sous-vide” dish on the menu because some piss-flaps, bollocks-face thinks they’ve reached a level of sophistication that they deserve the “best” things in life! Mindless fad-ism! I’m not against having a vision of your profession and using whatever techniques necessary to see that vision come to life. I’m against toe-rags who act as if they invented all these new techniques and are sooo familiar with them and keep fucking talking so they can inflate their egos further! Baaastards!

Submitted by “Reggie”

Iron Chef

admin — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 02:19:04 +0000

I have a problem with customers who have seen Iron Chef and then start to judge food based on the responses of the judges on that show. Like they’re a judge on Iron Chef and are a little bit “concerned about the lack of textural differences” etc. Mostly, it’s embarrassing because their lack of knowledge comes through by what they actually say. Usually spouting clichés they’ve picked up on all these fucking cooking shows and putting them in the wrong context. Who the fuck are they trying to impress? They’re filling up sound space so they don’t ever have to sit and silently face their pathetic lack of a clue!

Submitted by “Reggie”

Self-Seaters

admin — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 16:28:50 +0000

The other night I had a lot of problems with self-seaters. We were on a wait, and in a remote area of the restaurant, leagues away from the open-seating bar area, people were just sitting down at my dirty tables, and playing dumb when I informed them that they would need to add their names to the guest list and wait to be seated just like everybody else. I must admit, it is fun to watch the looks of mock-bewilderment come across their faces, and listen to their rather puny attempts to excuse their childish behavior.
“Oh, this isn’t the bar area?”
“Look around, do you see a bar?”
“Oh, I guess not.”
“Mmm-kay, yeah. It’s down the stairs, and is marked by it’s apparent bar-ishness, and some tap handles.”

This is a typical interaction. However, sometimes, people get nasty. We have a new manager, and he had a guy scream at him on the night in question. It went more like this;

“Excuse me sir, but we are on a wait, and there are people in line ahead of you that are waiting for this table.” (in fact, the waiting people and a host were standing feet from the table at the time)
“Hey, buddy, don’t treat me like a fucking child!” (this in front of an 8 year old that was with him)
“Okay, sir, no need to get excited, if you’ll just come with me we can accommodate you very shortly.”
“Well, I’m not going to tip you!” (Further proving the class of this fine fellow)

By this time, of course, the waiting party had been sat at a different table. Well, guess what? After the manager escorted the three would be patrons back downstairs, they eluded him and returned to my section, self-seating AGAIN AT THE SAME TABLE. I had been miles away at the bar retrieving drinks at the time of the first interaction, and had missed everything so far.
I approached the table, unaware of their crimes, and began to serve them, noting the awkwardness with which they received me. I attributed this awkwardness to the fact that most people are mildly socially inept at best, and gave them what I believe to be exemplary service. At one point the manager approached me and informed me that they had cursed him and promised no tip, as well as apparently double self-seating. This new development presented me with a conundrum;
Do I treat them as rudely as they treated my manager, or do I kill them with kindness?
I opted for plan b, and continued to give them service far in excess of what they deserved. When it came time for the bill, I rubbed the check presenter on a good tip I had received earlier for luck, and they paid with a credit card, leaving me a zero tip on the card, but 20% in cash.
An opportunity to fuck with the new manager presented itself, and I took him the credit slip, with the zero tip.
“Thanks, man, for warming that table up for me.”
He gets red and is obviously embarrased.
“I am really sorry, man, shit.”
I start to walk away, in mock anger peppered with disgust, letting it sink in a bit. Suddenly I turn around.
“Just kidding, man they tipped me in cash. Boo-yah! Welcome to the terrordome!”

Submitted by FatBoyTroy

Center of the Universe

admin — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 21:00:28 +0000

I am sure the first time I realized that the world didn’t revolve around me; I was a bit put off too. It is really nothing personal people, it is just the brass tacks of it.
So when you come into a bar at 3:30 that doesn’t open until 4 with your 10 year old, don’t act so surprised when you’re asked to come back at the posted opening time without your little minor friend. The thing is, we need every last minute to prepare physically and mentally for the audacity that we are about to endure.
To the guy who wants to shake his glass as an indication that you need a refill- keep on shaking it. See where it gets you.
To the person who insists on telling the wait staff every little thing about the menu in order to impress the people you’re with- save it. It is very transparent, you look like an ass. We don’t care if you’re from New York or if you have been to Europe.
If you’re listening, my little Indian friend, the chicken fried steak will never be chicken. The spicy garlic prawns will be spicy. And yes, a Manhattan is a strong beverage.
Think about it folks.
I hear that Bellevue and Belltown are beautiful this time of year. You all should consider staying there. Ballard sucks, tell all of your friends.

Submitted by “Magic Fingers”

Something’s bugging me.

admin — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 21:08:12 +0000

I believe in helping people solve pest issues with little or no cost to them. I have a license to perform inspections, identify the problem and offer solutions.
I have several non-customers who call me all the time and ask me how to get rid of their problem. I’ve already done the free inspection and submitted a proposal to do the work along with a detailed scope of service. They are usually owned by some huge corporation but they refuse to sign the service agreement because they don’t want to spend one penny on the problem. They want to self-treat using my professional license and it really pisses me off. I don’t mind helping but this is ridiculous and I’m tired of spending all that time on my cell phone or whatever trying to help someone out that I know isn’t going to spend any money. It’s like going into a restaurant and instead of ordering a meal; you go back to the kitchen and ask for the recipe. GRRRRRRR

Submitted by”This Bug’s For You”

Racist Asshole

admin — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 03:03:54 +0000

So this is a story about one of my co-workers. This young girl worked with me at an Italian place. As she was giving the customer her food to go, the customer asked how she got a job there. She thought the lady was maybe asking for her kid or something, and offered her an application. The lady said, “That’s not what I mean, how could you work in an Italian place?” referring to her ethnicity, you see my co-worker was, and probably still is, Japanese. The lady proceeded to suggest that she should maybe work in her area of expertise, a Thai restaurant. With great poise and wit she said “I would work in a restaurant where my people are from, but Mercer Island doesn’t have their own genre of restaurants, have a nice night!”

Submitted by “Madmac”