An Adventure In Waitressing
By Lisa Heath
Waiting tables can be a great way to make a
living. The pay is good (in the right restaurant),
the shifts are less than 8 hours (again, in the
right restaurant), and the cast of characters is
always entertaining. Once you have worked a
few different kinds of restaurants, you can
pretty much work anywhere you want. I had a
fantasy of spending the winter where I could
wear shorts every day and keep a tan without
trying too hard. Since I have been in the
restaurant business in one capacity or another
for most, o.k., ALL of my adult life, I decided to
make my dream come true, and headed out to Key
West, FL for sun and adventure.
The shorts and tan were no problem, but
finding a good job proved a little tough. The
restaurant I ended up working in was a little
seafood place that sat right on the water. It
served mainly fried fish and had been owned by
the Garrison Family for 40 years. During my
employ, the Eldest Son and his wife, Diane, were
in charge. Diane was a small, emotionally
fragile, whiny voiced woman, who
communicated in pouts and always looked a little
depressed. She had married the Eldest Son with
visions of marrying a fabulously wealthy
restaurateur and having lots of children, but, for
now (and I suspect a long time), had ended up a
day waitress, something she had never done
before. Betty was most definitely the Senior
Waitress. She had weathered 23 tourist seasons
with the Garrison Family and remembered most
of them in great detail (much to the delight of
the rest of us). She and Diane had been in a
legendary battle for Lunch Waitress Supreme for
many years. Diane usually got her way, mainly
because she was married to the Eldest Son, but
Betty hung in there, the restaurant being her
life. Myself and 5 other gals were the $2.00 an
Hour Group, waitresses hired only for the season,
and paid a ridiculously low wage. Diane worked
days, the $2.00 an Hour Group worked nights, and
Betty worked both.
Now on this particular day, the $2.00 an Hour
Group was arriving for the dinner shift and
observing the usual mayhem. I don't care where
you work, there is usually confusion while the
night shift takes over for the day shift. The
kitchen is trying to set up for dinner, while
cooking the last few lunches that always seem to
include the food they just put away. In most
places there is a twenty minute window where
dinner customers have to wait and if this has
ever happened to you it's usually because the
baked potatoes aren't ready yet. Anyway, I had
just walked in and observed that the cooks were
cranky and that Diane and Betty looked a little
panicked. I walked to the dining room and saw
several small groups and a party of 20, looking at
menus. Diane asked if I could come on a little
early and wait on the big group, as she and Betty
had their hands full. I saw no problem starting
my night off with a (hopefully) sizable tip.
I started towards the table just as Betty passed
quickly by and said something like "I tried to tell
them migsh hejkeuhh.. I was more interested
in getting to the table than have her repeat what
she had said, so I kept going. I could hear them
laughing and talking amongst themselves and I
realized I couldn't understand a word they were
saying. Oh boy, I thought, another game or
waitress charades, category: food. I stepped up
with my really-patient smile and turned to the
first woman who pointed at a dinner entré on the
menu. I tried to speak clearly and slowly as I
explained we were not quite ready for dinner
yet. But before I could get to the "it will only be
about 15 minutes" part, a man at the other ed of
the table stood up and said in perfect English,
"That's it... we're outa here!" They all pushed
back their chairs, stood, and began filing out of
the restaurant. I was a little confused as I tried to
replay what it was I said that had offended them.
Betty brushed by me again, saying "I told them
ttdkgjeusklnbt. ..." and Diane was pitifully
hanging on to the last two people, trying to
explain "baked potato" in a loud whiny voice. I
turned my attention back to Betty and realized
that she was mumbling shyly because whe had
already BEEN to the table and tried to pantomime
the fact that we weren't ready for dinner, yet.
But, due to the amount of shifts she had been
working (all of them) and bing a little short
tempered, she had managed to display the
international signs for "cranky and surly
She had probably made them mad without them
ever understanding a word (except for the sly
guy at the end of the table). The customers were
gone and Diane stood alone holding their menus.
She turned and I could see the anger rising in
her. Diane was way ahead of me and knew
exactly what had happened. We had lost a party
of 20 dinners and there was only one person to
blame. She whipped past me and after that
person who was in the kitchen, and another
Battle of the Lunch Shift was about to be
underway!
Have you ever been in the situation where you
cannot avoid someone else's confrontation? It s
kind of like trying to get gum off your fingers.
Just when you think you have the problem
solved, you realize it's still there. Well, if you
have, then you can understand what happened to
me next. I could not get away from them. Betty
sweeping through the restaurant, Diane with
her short little legs trying to keep up with her to
reprimand her (after all, SHE was right this
time). Back and forth, they went into the
kitchen, around the dining room. Betty wouldn't
slow her pace, she didn't want to hear it,
especially from her nemesis, Diane. And no
matter where I went, they seemed to be
following.
Then it happened. I was walking through the
kitchen door just in time to hear Betty say, "F...
you Diane." She had said it a little under her
breath, but I knew that tone and sentiment. I
had not misunderstood that. Diane however, had
not really heard her, or was feigning shock. At
any rate, she changed her tune to what did you
say?" as she continued following Betty. Things
really got crazy. The Family moved silently
about holding private meetings in strange areas
of the restaurant. They called in the Eldest Son s
Father. Diane followed the Eldest Son around,
trying to show how "hurt" she was and really
working up a good whine. They spoke in hushed
tones, but you could tell something big was about
to happen. And sure enough, ten minutes later,
in a swirl of purse, sweater, and tears, Betty was
leaving 23 years behind her and was out the
door, unceremoniously fired. No watch, no
thanks for the memories, no t-shirt, nothing.
The $2.00 an Hour Group was stunned. I had
worked at this restaurant only two weeks, but
with this firing had immediately been elevated to
"senior waitress" at night! It was going to be a
great winter.
The next day I arrived to work and went to
check in with The Eldest Son and Diane.
However, I was surprised to find Betty sitting at
the waitress hang-out table and yucking it up
with Diane. She saw me and immediately gave
me a list of things that needed to be done for the
dinner shift. If I hadn’t observed the events of
the day before, I would never have known
anything had been wrong. Well, as it turns out,
it had all been a misunderstanding. Betty
explained, to me and the other members of the
$2.00 an Hour Group, that Diane had in fact not
heard her correctly and that she did NOT say the
"F" word to the wife of the Eldest Son. She had
apparently called the Eldest Son's Mother the
next morning and explained herself and, gosh,
after 23 years. . . .
Meanwhile, back in the waitress area, the
members of the $2.00 an Hour Group tried to
imagine just what Betty had said to Diane. We
decided Betty must have said something like
"Move your TRUCK Diane", or "Good LUCK Diane
or "Go feed your DUCK Diane". But we now knew
that we too could get a night off if we offended
foreigners and mumbled obscenities to the Eldest
Son's wife.
That was three years ago and I'll bet they are
still there, going at it, battling for the position of
Lunch Waitress Supreme.
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