So I've had my first couple of kitchen shifts, and have to say that I found them very enjoyable. Obviously it's way, way too early to be making any decisions, but I am convinced that the decision to give it a go was the right one, so that's okay.
I think the satisfaction in part derives from the sensation of actually making something rather than serving it. This is in no way to devalue my job, I derive a great deal of joy from sending customers home happy; but conversely I have recently started losing patience with the sort of customers who in the past I would just have laughed off.
You see the thing is, I'm just doing a job to the best of my ability, and I'm starting to come to the conclusion that I simply don't need a lot of our customers in my life. I don't know if this is a peculiarly English thing (when I was working in cornwall, and a far higher proportion of the customers were foreign) but we've had a lot of people in recently who have caused me to question my faith in humanity. People who ask me suspiciously how much everything costs, who try to get a couple of quid shaved off their bill with spurious complaints (my favourite of recent weeks being "Your waitress banged the plates down in a meaningful manner" - what the hell are you talking about?) , parties who ignore you when you bring their food out, then complain that they don't have their food even though you've been walking up and down the table for fives minutes shouting "King Prawns! Who ordered the King Prawns please?" - and then, of course, complain that it's cold.
Add to that people who complain because they don't like anything on a set menu, but who still want the fixed price, people who seem to think that it's your fault that they don't like anything on the menu (because obviously you are trying to outwit them and make them feel small by serving fancy foreign muck they don't understand), people who, when you have an armful of plates grab your arm to get your attention and demand drinks, people who wave frantically to get your attention when it is patently obvious that you are in the middle of serving somebody else, people who get drunk and lecherous, people who get drunk and argumentative, people who argue over who's going to pay the bill and then get angry with you if you take someone else's payment ("But I wanted to pay!" You see, I don't really care that you've lost this childish pissing contest of yours, and no, I'm not going to give him his money back so you can pay it) and, worst of all, the terminally miserable; those who, once they've sat down don't crack a smile all night and you wonder what on earth posessed them to go out for a meal in the first place.
Don't get me wrong, a lot of my customers are lovely, entertaining, generous people. People who understand what going out to eat entails, who understand that it's something to enjoy, who approach the meal in the right frame of mind, who don't mind paying a couple of quid more for a better bottle of wine. Above all people who understand that just because you are serving them, it doesn't make you subservient to them, that you are a human being too. Sadly recently these have been in the minority, swimming against an overwhelming tide of petty, ill-mannered, cheap bastards who seem to think that they own you. so to be honest, the idea of hiding in the kitchen looks pretty good to me. We shall see.
I think the satisfaction in part derives from the sensation of actually making something rather than serving it. This is in no way to devalue my job, I derive a great deal of joy from sending customers home happy; but conversely I have recently started losing patience with the sort of customers who in the past I would just have laughed off.
You see the thing is, I'm just doing a job to the best of my ability, and I'm starting to come to the conclusion that I simply don't need a lot of our customers in my life. I don't know if this is a peculiarly English thing (when I was working in cornwall, and a far higher proportion of the customers were foreign) but we've had a lot of people in recently who have caused me to question my faith in humanity. People who ask me suspiciously how much everything costs, who try to get a couple of quid shaved off their bill with spurious complaints (my favourite of recent weeks being "Your waitress banged the plates down in a meaningful manner" - what the hell are you talking about?) , parties who ignore you when you bring their food out, then complain that they don't have their food even though you've been walking up and down the table for fives minutes shouting "King Prawns! Who ordered the King Prawns please?" - and then, of course, complain that it's cold.
Add to that people who complain because they don't like anything on a set menu, but who still want the fixed price, people who seem to think that it's your fault that they don't like anything on the menu (because obviously you are trying to outwit them and make them feel small by serving fancy foreign muck they don't understand), people who, when you have an armful of plates grab your arm to get your attention and demand drinks, people who wave frantically to get your attention when it is patently obvious that you are in the middle of serving somebody else, people who get drunk and lecherous, people who get drunk and argumentative, people who argue over who's going to pay the bill and then get angry with you if you take someone else's payment ("But I wanted to pay!" You see, I don't really care that you've lost this childish pissing contest of yours, and no, I'm not going to give him his money back so you can pay it) and, worst of all, the terminally miserable; those who, once they've sat down don't crack a smile all night and you wonder what on earth posessed them to go out for a meal in the first place.
Don't get me wrong, a lot of my customers are lovely, entertaining, generous people. People who understand what going out to eat entails, who understand that it's something to enjoy, who approach the meal in the right frame of mind, who don't mind paying a couple of quid more for a better bottle of wine. Above all people who understand that just because you are serving them, it doesn't make you subservient to them, that you are a human being too. Sadly recently these have been in the minority, swimming against an overwhelming tide of petty, ill-mannered, cheap bastards who seem to think that they own you. so to be honest, the idea of hiding in the kitchen looks pretty good to me. We shall see.
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