Being Nice is Cool Too

Well don't you just look fun!  CREDIT.

I have officially decided that some people go to restaurants just to complain.  They wake up in the morning, realize their life sucks more than they anticipated it would and throw on some pants so they can go out and ruin someone else’s day so theirs sucks just that much less.  I imagine them sitting in the car on the way formulating new ways to be totally awful human beings.  It’s like a game that I, as a server, am forced to be the center of with no prior consent.

I get it; life really sucks sometimes.  Trust me, there are days that being a total bitch would really make me feel better.  But we all know that isn’t nice.  So I pull up my tights and guess what?  I get the eff over it.  I don’t find my way to a restaurant where people are just trying to do their job and put them through forty-five minutes of torture.  I don’t complain that the beer is too cold.  I don’t get pissed because only light ranch is served.  I don’t say my burger was awful after devouring the whole thing in two minutes flat.

While I realize that sometimes it seems like shared misery is the answer, I can assure you it’s not.  I can almost guarantee you won’t walk through those doors, back into the big, bad world and feel better.  You might feel fuller, but you certainly won’t feel better.

What might make you actually feel a little better would be coming in, sitting down and trying to let yourself actually enjoy a meal.  Food tastes much better without a side of pissed-off.  Rather than using that forty-five minutes bringing someone else into your misery you could put it aside and enjoy those wings.  You never know, maybe afterwards you’ll feel better.  Or at the very least, you spent a little bit of time not thinking about whatever is bothering you.

You can have it back later if you want.  CREDIT.

A very wise corporate trainer once told me to “leave my shit at the door.”  And that’s what I do, if I’m in a bad mood I don’t bring it into work with me.  It’s my job to be happy even when I’m very far from it.  Even when my grandma died I had to go to work and pretend like it hadn’t happened.  That certainly wasn’t easy, but you know afterward I did feel better.  I’d gotten out of my own head and taken time to not dwell on things.

So while that advice has certainly helped me at a place where being peppy is expected no matter what, it’s also helped me in life.  Sometimes all you can do is take your shit and leave it for a bit.  You get some things done, you do what you need to do and then later if you want to pick up that shit and take it home with you, you are more than welcome to.  But maybe you’ll just decide to let that shit lie.  Or take less of it than you brought in the first place.

All I really know is, even if you don’t take my advice, please don’t bring your attitude into my place of employment and dump it in my lap.  You don’t want it and I REALLY don’t want it.  Sit back, eat your food and let me do my job.  Which is to make you have a better day in addition to keeping you fed.  I promise I’ll try not to let you down if you promise not to be an asshat.  That seems fair.

Not a Good Day

Today ended horribly at work.  On Thursdays, I act as attendant in our small casino (a very Montana thing to have attached to a sports bar/restaurant).  Usually this is a rather slow day for me and today seemed no different.  Until I went to count my bag at the end of my shift.  Somehow, despite being ridiculously slow, I came up $135 short.  I've never even been a dollar short before and now I was missing over $100.  I panicked.

I counted the money again and again until finally I broke into tears and realized that despite having no idea how it could happened the money was long gone.  After putting my tips toward the deficit, I was still $80 short forcing me to go to the ATM to make up the difference.  I effectively paid to go to work today.

I still have absolutely no idea what could have happened, but at this point I suppose it doesn't even matter.  What's done is done and the debt has been paid.  Paid painfully, but paid none the less.  Life goes on.

UPDATE
Have you ever had one of those moments of total clarity in the middle of the night?  The type that wakes you up and suddenly everything is clear in a way that is almost scary?  Well that happened to me at about 5:30 a.m. this morning.

I woke up and in the same instant that my eyes were opening I remembered cashing a $135 winning ticket.  Not only did I remember the ticket, I remembered nearly everything about the man who claimed it including the machine he'd been playing and how he liked his coffee.  I remembered our conversation and how much money he'd fed the machine.  Mostly I remembered cashing his ticket, marking it off and putting it away (it's only where it went that remains unknown).  I found the money in a sleep induced perfect memory.

Remembering was almost as rewarding as being handed my $135 after checking the accounting of machine 16.  There, at noon just like I'd said, was a $135 cashout.  Thank you, memory.

To Bad Days

Today was one of those days that just make you feel unappreciated.  You know, the type of days that no matter what you do right it's just not enough.  Let me start by saying that I know I was on top of my game today.  I say that with confidence because I have an amazing way of always delivering great service regardless of my mood.  I come to work to work and I'm not going to let anything get in the way of that.  So long story short, I always try to give amazing service because it's my job to give amazing service and I take that seriously.

For some reason, regardless of my great service, it was a 10% kind of day.  Now this wouldn't bother me if I was being slow or being rude or just generally sucking.  I'd know if I was effing up and I'd understand the shitty tip.  It only bothers me when I know I'm doing a good job.  It bothers me even more when you take the time to compliment my service and then leave two bucks on a fifty-dollar tab.  That's just not cool.  As nice as your compliments are, my landlord won't accept them as a rent payment.

Yes, today was that kind of day.  It was almost as if every customer was a part of some "piss Sauce off" conspiracy.  I just imagine them all gathering outside the door making their plans.  There would be a strategy board with little ships and shit on it and one evil mastermind of a customer is pushing them all around and laughing as the mini armada carried my money away.  It's all very dark and awful.  With a plan like that I could have been shitting golden checks for a million dollars each and people still would have tipped me nothing.  I clearly couldn't win.  Everyone was just being that sucky.

Then I had a gentleman come in who decided to turn my day around.  I gave him the same service I had given every table - great service.  We chatted a bit and I brought his food and he was happy.  I did nothing out of the ordinary or different from any other table in my section.  Naturally, I was expecting the theme of the day to continue as I handed him his bill.  Then he stopped me.

Nice Man:  "You know I was having a really, really shitty day until I came in here.  I mean it seriously had started like total shit.  You really turned it around for me."

I was floored.  Here was this man complimenting me just for being me.  He continued.

Nice Man:  "You just seem to have a really great attitude and a very genuine personality.  It's nice to see that these days.  Too many people are angry and unhappy.  You really made my day.  I can honestly tell you it's going to be a better day just thinking about your attitude.  It's really refreshing."

And just like that my day was made as I made someone else's.  In addition to his compliments, he left me a nice 25% tip, but it wasn't about the money.  His sincerely kind words just made me feel better because he had appreciated the person I am.  He made my day better without even knowing it.

He also reminded me why I love my job.  Thanks, dude.

A Bad Day at Hooters

We all have our bad days.  One thing after another goes wrong with reckless abandon and try as you may things never seem to get back on track.  This is life.  This is natural.  There is no stopping it.  It is frustrating and annoying and painfully uncomfortable.  But you get through your day on some subtle hope that it will get better.  The afternoon may drag on and the night may suck too, but you hold on to the idea that tomorrow will be better.  You suck it up and you move on.

Today was one of those days.  One of those days that you try to salvage, but it's gone to shit basically before it's even started.  It all began with a Hooters top.  Being out of my size and desperately needing a new top, I was forced to shove my 5'11 frame into a shirt much too small.  So small it was actually painful.  Not a comfortable situation.  The day flew downhill from there.  Needy, crappy tippers, angry girlfriends, cooks that can't read a receipt, assholes, screaming children, Canadians (more on this another time) and pretty much every other annoying, frustrating, angering thing that could happen had to happen today.  All while my circulation was being cut off by an unflattering Hooters top.

I won't regale you with specifics.  We've all had shitty days.  We've all been there.  The circumstances may different, but we know a bad day when we see one.  But there is a difference between a regular bad day and a Hooters bad day.  While a regular bad day can be explained away rather painlessly, a Hooters bad day seems to be a negative reflection on you.  This makes that bad day even worse.  You see, I spend a majority of my time at Hooters dispelling the all to common myth that Hooters Girls are shallow, vapid, idiotic girls that were luck enough to be pretty.  If I have a bad day and mistakes are made (by me or by others) most people immediately assume that Hooters stereotype is true.  If things go wrong I am automatically just a stupid Hooters Girl.  I hate this.

Now, you might think that sounds rather dramatic, but this idea was substantiated throughout my day (and bad days before it) by a number of stupid comments and snarky remarks - the sort of remarks that basically call you stupid without coming out and saying it.  Remarks that say, "yes, there is a reason you are a Hooters Girl."  Remarks that make me feel like a piece of useless shit.

This is why I hate bad days at Hooters.  There is nothing that makes me want to prove myself more than the insinuation that I am stupid.  It makes me feel like I have to play catch up and spend even more time proving my worth as a college graduate and a woman.  And really, I do.  We all do.  Hooters Girls in general spend their days serving wings, pouring beer and proving that the whole "typical Hooters Girl" doesn't exist.  Some days it seems like the world doesn't want you to prove every one wrong.  Those are the days you forget the cheese sticks, or drop coleslaw on a customer, or just fuck up in general.  Those are days like today.

I can't wait for tomorrow.