“It's a good thing that life is not as serious as it seems to a waiter”
It was but a year ago, today, that I published my first post on Well Done Fillet. And what a year it has been. I have loved every minute of it, even if those minutes meant I was up until 3am and that my waist has grown larger. I cant eat out anymore without writing a post in my head whilst I consider if the waiters are showing enough love or not. I'm addicted to my stats and I've all but given up on watching TV. I fear being outed as my batman like alter ego, Manuel, by the overlords at work. But I fear having nothing to write about the most.
Life has changed since Fatman and Thumb Stubber walked into my restaurant that fateful night.
And you know what?
I love it....
My reasons for blogging were several. Firstly, it was and still is cathartic. When you come home from work late at night tense and still replaying an incident in your mind from the previous service it is good to have somewhere to vomit all that bile and bitterness. LMM couldn't cope with listening to me for a moment longer. Secondly, I just wanted to share all my "fun" times with you.
Being a waiter isn't the toughest job in the world, far from it. But over my nearly 20 years in hospitality I have witnessed the steady decline in standards, both from customers and amongst the people who serve them. It irks me so. Please and thank you are becoming but a distant memory. Courtesy, civility, and manners have been replaced with rudeness, boorishness, and a sense of entitlement. If your waiter is rude to you or not giving you the service you richly deserve fucking pull them on it. But don't be surprised and go running for mummy when we call you out for your finger clinking, ass grabbing, and tardiness. I'm getting too old, too fat, and too grouchy to put up with it any more. You fuck with me and you will have to prepare to say hello to my waiter's friend.
But it ain't all bad.
For every 10 mouth breathers I have to serve well done fillet steaks with sauce on the side and a bucket of ketchup to I get two or three little gems, the customers who remind me why I continue to wait tables. And the tips are good too, obviously.
Being a waiter isn't the toughest job in the world, far from it. But over my nearly 20 years in hospitality I have witnessed the steady decline in standards, both from customers and amongst the people who serve them. It irks me so. Please and thank you are becoming but a distant memory. Courtesy, civility, and manners have been replaced with rudeness, boorishness, and a sense of entitlement. If your waiter is rude to you or not giving you the service you richly deserve fucking pull them on it. But don't be surprised and go running for mummy when we call you out for your finger clinking, ass grabbing, and tardiness. I'm getting too old, too fat, and too grouchy to put up with it any more. You fuck with me and you will have to prepare to say hello to my waiter's friend.
But it ain't all bad.
For every 10 mouth breathers I have to serve well done fillet steaks with sauce on the side and a bucket of ketchup to I get two or three little gems, the customers who remind me why I continue to wait tables. And the tips are good too, obviously.
But mostly I hope you have all learned to love the waiters in your life a little more.
You have haven't you?
Cheers folks for all the visits and comments it really does mean a lot to me.
and remember
Book your table, be on time, order well, eat, pay, tip, leave.
(deviation is the road to dining dissatisfaction)
