The worst job in the world: Waitress
The worst position in the world: Chef
I’ve done them both.
As waitress, You get every kind of customer; From the insanely lovely grandmother that wants to talk for 45 minutes about how the pancakes she ordered are the exact same as the ones made for her by her late husband in 1975… to the short man with and even shorter temper, who wants to know why the cashier’s counter can’t be made with short people in mind, without actually using the word ‘short’ for his entire argument.
As a chef, You’re made to feel a little better than the poor waiters scurrying about trying to fulfill orders, but in reality they’re secretly laughing at you.
Even when you’re 1st year apprentice, and given the most meaningless job of chopping 300 carrots julienne style (for the lunch service) and later on you cry a little, because they get chucked in the bin if they’re a little bit fat or wonky.
The consensus of a ‘medium rare’ steak is totally unnerving to me, to the point where I refuse to cook steaks at home and make my partner do it. I cannot stand him or anyone else looking at their meat, looking up at me and then saying,
“I think I’ve gotten your steak… this is a little too rare/well-done.”
No. Its not. It’s really really not.
You said how you want it, and its cooked to fucking perfection.
Eat the damn thing.
People deconstructing their order upon ordering.
Honestly, I have done it too: Scrambled eggs for poached; Ham for Bacon; Chicken for Turkey.
But… there are limits.
To the people who ask for;
“I’ll just have a Side Salad... But, instead of Italian dressing, I want ceasar dressing and a chicken breast with that, sliced horizontally, with whole wheat toast instead of rye and potatoes in the salad, instead of tomatoes”…
They then get the shits with you because you want to charge them for a meal, when their ‘side salad’ was complimentary with another order.
You have no idea how much, right at this moment, the person taking your order wants to smack you over the head with whatever they’re carrying at the time.
Re-organizing the menu will not only get the Chef’s offside with the waiters (who are only doing their job); they’ll be pissed off because now they have to start the meal over again because you chose to be a total fucktard about it; And you’ll probably end up with a great looking meal, that will taste slightly salty because the staff have all had turns spitting in it.
Little tip: Unless you’re allergic to everything on the menu, don’t ask to change it.
Again… Just eat the damn thing.