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Monday, 25 June 2007

Why 34 year old bald men make the best waiters

Ramsay and his shiny things...

All most every restaurant/cafe/food outlet I have ever worked in was owned or run by men. And when it comes to hiring staff, restaurateurs are like magpies, they like to surround themselves with pretty shiny things. The logic being that if your outlet is staffed by pretty people you will attract pretty people. From what I have seen a tenner from an ugly bloke is the same value as a tenner from a Chippendale.

This doesn't work. Now don't get me wrong I am not for one moment saying that there are no hot wait staff who don't know the difference between fillet mignon and tuna. For example my own Little Miss Manuel and I met whilst we worked in a cafe. And she is both smoking hot and as smart as a man, (only joking Medbh).

Horny owners hire with their cocks and not their brains. The guy that owned the cafe that LMM and I worked in was a button for it. His penis made all the important decisions when it came to hiring staff. He would hire lovely ladies from obscure Eastern European countries regardless if they could speak a word of English. Long legs, pretty faces, perfect bottoms were all that were required. The place was well known for it's eye catching lady staff. You couldn't actually get a coffee, but what did that matter eh? He must have been going through a case of impotence when he hired me.

I'm not saying restaurateurs shouldn't hire people because they look like Brad Pitt or Liv Tyler, well actually I am. They should hire them because they can do the job, and if they are aesthetically pleasing well that's a bonus. And when they do hire the very pretty people it always comes back to haunt them. If you and your family are in the hot girls section alongside a table of four business men you should settle in for a long disappointing evening. She is going to flirt and chat and toy with these boyos until she has bled them dry of cash. Don't think ill of her, it's just going to be easier to make the cash from them rather than you. You and your lovely little family will end up getting served by the dishwasher. And it doesn't end there, there are whole groups of society that shouldn't be hired in restaurants.

Teenagers for example. There are two types of teenagers that get hired to work in restaurants. Well 3 if you include the "hot" type. But that's been covered. First you have "Emo-teenager" then you have "happy-clappy-saving-myself-for-Christ-teenager". Believe me you don't want to work with or be served by either. Both have hormonal issues which messes with their ability to take down orders, deliver food, and act in anyway resembling a normal person. Emo teenager can't work Saturdays as they are going out with Moz, or Lala to see The Nobwots or some other "dark and meaningful" shite. Happy-clappy-saving-myself-for-Christ-teenager cant work Sunday's as they are worshipping the big guy all day or trying to sign up new recruits at a homeless shelter. And when they finally do make it to work you wish they hadn't bothered. Emo teenager boy wears his trousers round his knees, has to be told a 1000 times to take his sweat type wrist band off, wears black converse instead of black shoes and cant stop flicking his fringe. Everything is an Herculean effort and accompanied by phrases like "huh maaaaan" or "what time we gonna get done by maaaan?" And if they aren't texting on their mobile phone they are self-harming in the toilets.
Happy-clappy-saving-myself-for-Christ-teenager is so freaky happy all the time you want to kill yourself. They only took the job so they could save money for their trip to Africa with the church youth group. "We are saving the souls of the soulless", you will hear that a 1000 times a day. Her boyfriend's already there setting up a well and an outdoor church. They judge you when you have a hangover and constantly invite you to their meetings. But the manager loves them as they are never late, they dress like they just stepped out of a training manual and are always available for extra shifts, except on Tuesdays as they go to church then as well. No, teenagers with spots and a love of God/dark things are best avoided. But they are cheap to hire so they are hard to escape.

Bohemian sorts get right up my jam roll too. They don't want to be there and spend all their time telling you this. Not just you but the customers too. They are just doing the job until they get their own show, or the band signs a deal or their agent sorts out an audition for some channel 4 drama.

I DON'T FUCKING CARE. I GET IT, YOUR NOT REALLY A WAITER!!!!!

Bohemian waiters do all that they can to prove this by being consistently late, looking like shit at all times, never washing their uniform, and never really mixing with the other staff. They are skinny hippy types with a collection of stars tattooed on their arm and a random selection of badges. They are what Emo teenagers become after they have left Art College. Their stinky skinny friends are always calling in on the mooch for free food or drinks. They can be an amusing distraction for a while but it all turns sour when they realise that their big break isn't coming. Then it's everybody else's fault. Bohemian waiters are in their mid to late 20's and their dreams are turning to dust. Bitterness seeps from every pore, every filthy unwashed pore. These guys get hired because they have a degree in something wonderful like history of art or media studies but cant perform the simplest of tasks like setting a table in under a half hour! Fuck off and get washed, hippy.

You should also look out for work placement guy. He has been forced to go on a Government sponsored work/training course or he loses his dole cheque. He doesn't want to there. He would rather be sniffing glue in a car park. You should ask to move table if you get him. He will try to do your handbag over. Work placement guy looks how you would expect him to look, earring,
sovereign ring, and glazed over eyes from too much dope smoking. Australian backpackers don't care either. They only took the job as they need the money to get to France or Spain or wherever the hell they are going next. They are also big fans of using the restaurant's phone to call home. By the time the bill comes in they are long gone. They don't wash well/often either.

No, at the end of the day you want to get served by a 34 year old bald man. Our hormones are in check, actually they are practically asleep. We don't text as we hate texting. We wash, regularly. And our bitterness has turned into acceptance with our lot in life. Bitterness has been replaced by routine and a happy little rut. So the next time you go out for dinner try and get into the older looking man's section. He cares just enough to make your night a good one and is still in control of his bladder. Only just...

14 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

ellie said...

Table for 4 in your section Friday night. Want to inspect your uniform, tattoos, shoes, CV and you text message outbox!

Have a student of Christ working with me at the moment, he wants to be a Doctor, he spends his time avoiding work and whining. Last week he told me his "Mum doesn't work, she just childminds!"
I was a step away from smacking him! He is a prat of the highest order!

Megan McGurk said...

Too true, Manuel. Do you want the professional to wait on you or the boho guy who smells like scalp or his girlfriend who smells like cat pee because she doesn't change the litter often enough and oh well, kitty had an accident?
Easy choice.
The kewl kids were always late and wanted off early. I left before the whole texting craze began, luckily.
I see you have begun the countdown, so well done. You'll be away with LMM before you know it.

Unknown said...

Nice rant. I was out at a bar the other night for a few quiet beers with some friends, and we were totally ignored all night. What happened was a group of snappily-dressed guys with those Bluetooth earphone things sat down at the table next to us and started ordering tequila shots chased with Corona. They bought a shot for the waitress and that was the end of that chapter. We had to wait 20 minutes for our second round because she completely forgot about us after the Johnny Spendalots showed up and started making it rain. I'm still pissed about it. That's the service you get when you hire with your penis, and not your brain.

Manuel said...

anon: you again. Thanks but no thanks. Unless the cool kids get one...

Ellie: God's messengers are always a problem to work with. I try to be sensitive to them but they really do bring the devil/Catholicism out in me.

Medbh: Sometimes it feels I've spent my whole career working with kids. Its been fun, but its starting to get me down. I'd like to have a grown up conversation just once at work.

Steve: It happens every time. Hot girl/boy loves the attention, forgets about other tables.... Shift goes to hell

Old Knudsen said...

I can open cans of beer with my penis, sure I don't mind a can covered in blood, it is mine after all.

Fat Sparrow said...

All of it too true, Manuel. Pretty people can neither fuck nor work. If the Bohemians bother you, never eat out in LA; everyone wants to be an actor/director/screenwriter and will completely dis your table while suddenly pulling head shots/script treatments out of their arse for the fuckwit at the next table who looks like he might in the industry.

I haven't been in plate-flinging world since the 80's, but back then you never had to worry about anyone messing with their hair, at least, as it was the era of giant-sticking-up-hairsprayed-bangs. Once you set it in the morning, it never moved. Ah, AquaNet hairspray. I heard that got banned in the UK due to flammability concerns.

And evangelicals should be killed. Hey, it's win/win for them; they get to see Jesus and they get to be a martyr - what's not to like?

Manuel said...

Old K: okay, thats eh nice. Good for you. I an open barrels with mine...

Fat Sparrow: "Pretty people can neither fuck nor work" HAHAHAHAHA, I shall use that today. Ah the 1980's such a dramatic time, hair, shirts, makeup. I myself used NEWS hairspray, 3 cans a week. I'm bald now you know....

fofufou said...

Having had various experiences of the type of youngsters you described; be it through work, romantic dalliances, and friends, I must say that you sir, are spot on.

I still remmeber the chrisitan I shagged who ran off to Africa to help the unfortunates. She was a right weirdo.

fatmammycat said...

Yesterday I was served by not one, but two 'hawt' girls, neither of which knew any real English, or how to clean a table. It was right fun trying to pay too. When you're right Manuel you're so stonking right.
Death to teenagers, no, wait, that's a bit harsh. Death to my mother. Huzzah!

Anonymous said...

loving it manuel

Manuel said...

Lord Milky: If it wasn't for this blog I would run rampage through the restaurant and take em all out!

FMC: No you were right the first time. Death to teenagers, or at least stick em on an island 'til they no longer slouch and say "what's the point, maaann?"

Joeyd: As well you might...

Anonymous said...

i think its fair to say that the place i work employs almost all of the above (we even have a 34 year old bald guy and a trampy barmaid who doesnt/wont wash and a guy that wears sweatbands)... scary thing is im not too sure which i fall into... hopefully none lol

Manuel said...

Without sounding gay, your probably a hot girl...

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