Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll....Waiting tables on the graveyard shift. (Part 1)
Jun 25 '02
The Bottom Line Who knew that an overnight shift at Denny's could be so interesting?
I recently reviewed a great book called Waiting which was an account of life as a waitress. It made me recall my years waiting tables, and since Debra Ginsberg beat me to writing a book, I thought I'd share here...Enjoy...
Between the time I was about 19 until my second pregnancy forced me to stop, I waited tables. When I was younger, I lived alone and waitressing was how I made my living. After getting married and starting a family, I only did it part time.
While I worked at a few decent restaurants, the one where I made most of my money was Denny's. I tended to work late nights because I could make a decent living dealing with regular customers who also worked nights. Drunks often tip high too, always a bonus.
To protect the innocent, some of the names will be changed, except for mine. Working at Denny's, I learned an awful lot about life. Awful is the key word here.
Me and the "gals"
Though I grew up in a suburb of Chicago, I had lived a fairly sheltered life. It took a stint at one of the Denny's I worked at before 1993 to help me really grow up. I can't recall the exact dates, but I can remember many of the adventures I had working the graveyard shift.
I had quit working at one Denny's hoping to earn more at another location. I was quickly hired and began my shift around 10:00 pm each evening. I'd been told that the three male servers who would be working with me periodically, were gay. Extremely, openly and proudly gay.
I'd never had any gay friends, but a person's sexuality is their business, so I was not worried. Then I met Kevin, Tom and Marvin, my co-workers. There was also a female who looked just like Rosie (I'll refer to her as Rosie as well) Perez who worked with us. She was married with several small children, the only other heterosexual on nights.
My first evening, I was told to follow Kevin just so I could get used to the layout and computer system that was different from the previous restaurant. Kevin was so lazy and pretty much sat as I did all the work. He was not popular among the regular customers. The straight clientele seemed relieved to see a single straight female for a change.
Tom and Marvin, on the other hand, could only be described as dead ringers for Blaine and Antione the effeminate duo from In Living Color. They were the stereotypical "queens" as they referred to themselves.
These two were popular among the regulars based on their very colorful personalities. They seemed to like the reaction they got when they strutted their stuff.
Tom was a bit...catty, but Marvin was a bit nicer. He told me I'd do very well because not every customer liked the openly gay waiters. Tom informed me that they got to wait on most of the regulars, I would get the homophobic. Tom knew I was single, so when he was in a good mood, he'd point out the "cute guys" and let me wait on them.
The managers were okay too, but Nicki, the manager who was a pregnant chain smoker with a reputation among the cabbies, hated me. Years later I found out she was fired for stealing cash and having drugs in the restaurant. She used to pin the lost money on other employees, particularly those who didn't party with her.
She was quick to blame unsuspecting waitstaff. People like me, prompting me to transfer to another store after a few months. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Kevin was fired shortly after I started, I'm not sure why, but he frequently called begging for money and coming in with glazed eyes. The regular crew became me, Rosie, Tom and Marvin. They tended to stay in the break room with the door closed. The white powder they had was NOT sugar.
Coffee, tea or...LSD?
One evening, there were no managers on duty. Only two servers, a cook and a "Unit Aide" which was a server who was given some management authority. Whomever had done the schedule had forgotten that The Grateful Dead were in town and that the "deadheads" had set up camp all over town. They all needed to eat. At the same time.
Our restaurant had become full beyond anything we had ever seen. The dining room was a blur of tie-dye and smoke. The smell of patchouli oil was overwhelming and a number of guests were so messed up that they would jump when food was placed in front of them.
"Dude, the nachos are moving..."
No, they weren't. Nor were they carrying on their end of the conversation as guests began to talk to their plates. I kid you not. Some people were passed out in booths and others were in a worse mood than I was. A full dining room with a small staff is hard to handle.
Even harder when the cook quits.
Rosie and I were doing our very best to at least serve coffee and soft drinks, explaining that until we had a cook, we were unable to serve much more than salads and desserts.
Telling a group of wasted kids that they were not getting a Sleepwalker Special and that Moons Over My Hammy was not happening is not good. And the night got worse. And the few tips I got were barely enough for bus fare home.
It seemed like The Grateful Dead would never leave town as their followers came in each evening. Between the outrageous behavior and the lack of tips, none of the waitstaff could put on a happy face. But the customers could.
One couple seated at a deuce was particularly stoned. The girl, in her long skirt and beaded jewelry joined her boyfriend on his side of the table. They decided to have sex, right there in the booth.
Only a few of the patrons noticed, and they didn't care. It wasn't until a busboy became fixated on the love-table and we noticed his absence that we saw what was happening.
I was NOT about to intervene. The police, who had avoided our restaurant for the duration of the "tour," finally showed up. The lovebirds were escorted out by the officers, but were applauded as they pledged their love to the entire crowd. Also to the busboy. And the police.
Abalone and weed will not pay the rent
The few tips we collected each night were the kind that go jingle-jangle. The few dollar bills we got had a most pungent odor of patchouli, Marlboros and marijuana.
At this point, I was numb. I expected no tips. It was the last day before they moved on to another town. One particular group that had come in each night asked me why I wouldn't smile. I told them:
"Look, I don't mean to be a b!tch, but I have bills to pay. I have worked twice as hard as usual the past few days and have nothing but a contact high to show for it. So please order now, I don't smile when working for free!'
Sure, that was an inappropriate thing to say, especially since I hadn't waited on this group and hadn't had time to even complain to co-workers about being stiffed over and over.
To my surprise, they seemed shocked.
"What do you mean, no one is tipping you?"
Uh, what did they think I meant?
"No, people are not tipping at all and this was true before I stopped smiling...."
The guy sitting closest to me put down his guitar, stood up on the seat and said something that shocked me.
"How can you all come in here and not tip these waitresses. They have been running around since we started coming in. That's bullsh!t. No wonder they seem to hate us! You need to leave a tip on the table!"
I did crack a smile, a few tables left a few bucks. Pretty pathetic, but better than the pennies, nickels and dime bags. I kid you not. I had found marijuana as a tip. I believe the manager smoked....er confiscated it.
Another group told me they were broke, but offered me one of the abalone shell necklaces they were making and selling. A nice gesture, really. Not an effective way to pay the rent though.
And so the Grateful Dead went "trucking" on out of town. My apron stopped reeking of patchouli and cashiers didn't give me odd looks when I tried to spend a...fragrant...dollar bill.
to be continued....
Look for the next installment about the drug bust and the murder suicide....
*** I have changed the names of my co-workers, but the events happened the way I described. I neither use nor endorse drug use.
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
jenb123
|
 - Top 500 |
|
Location: IL
Reviews written: 414
Trusted by: 504 members
About Me:
I'm tired
|
|
|
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.