No more Serving Tables - ever again!  I had wanted to blog about frugal living, waiting tables, and making lemonade from lemons - happy stuff!

Working for one of *insert Largest Casual Dining  Restaurant Corporation in the World’s name here*’s  restaurants proved to be an experience I will never forget or repeat.  It left me unable to blog about good happy stuff.  Slaving for this company left me too depressed to write.

The economy and a pending personal injury lawsuit bound me to this position.  Not only would finding another job be difficult given the economy, but the insurance company’s lawyers could have used it against me at the trial - painting me as an irresponsible, careless, job hopper.  If I blogged about it and those lawyers found my blog...

I won the lawsuit.  The award was modest, but will cover the outstanding medical bills.  That said, *big insurance company* is going to tie it up in post trail motions for a very long time.   What this means is I still have to be careful about what I write.

So that means:

*******

No writing about management dressing servers down like a Drill Sergeant at basic training during the Friday Night dinner rush.  

No writing about how the servers are blamed for everything.  

No writing about the fictional Open Door Policy.  (Has anyone encountered a real “Open Door” policy?  or was that book by the Brothers Grimm?)

No writing about discrimination, pretty 22 year old girls getting the best shifts, or the unwritten yet official “Don’t Say A Word” policy?

No writing about the dishwasher that wouldn’t wash the glassware even though there were no clean glasses in the entire restaurant and you tried begging, charming, and pleading with him.  

No writing about how the salad guys would take 5 - 6 minutes to make salads, while the grill was pushing hot food out in 12 minutes - somehow also the servers fault?  (Some folks get really angry if their hot food comes out while they are eating their salad).   I still want to know how you can gill a 22 oz Well Done Steak in 12 minutes....

******

Also:

No writing about my injury and my experiences with *big insurance company.*  I will say that the doctors fixed me.  There are some minor, occasional discomforts and there could be some problems later, but I view myself as lucky to be fixed and able to work.

******

We’ll keep the above as a future topics list....

Unfinished Moment in the weeds and my *Thank God” former reality:

Unfinished Moment in the weeds and my *Thank God” former reality:

Physics 101 no one can be at two separate locations at the same time.

I physically can not  greet, take drink orders, and spiel appetizers on two new tables (double sat), plus a table of 5 where 3 of the guests have just arrived (essentially a triple seat), and be in the alley to pick up food/ salads at the same time.  

When I rang in table 66’s order, I only had that table and two of  what would become 5 guests at table 45.  Table 66 ordered strawberry salads instead of the standard Cesar or mixed green - In my experience, the salad guys traditionally take longer than any server would like to (usually longer than 3 minutes) to make any salad - after ringing in the order, I collected the glass of wine table 45 had ordered from the bar and returned to the dining room.  

When I returned to the dining room, I found the remainder of the guests for table 45 had arrived along with two additional tables.  I greeted, spieled appetizers, and took drink orders from the two new tables, plus the now complete party at table 45 (essentially three new tables) and returned to the alley to assemble drinks, get bread, ring in appetizers, and collect the salads for table 66.  Thankfully, one of my co-workers Buffy ran the strawberry salads for me, kudo’s to her for teamwork!  As I was in the dining room trying to adhere to *Chain Restaurants* standards of service with essentially three new tables, I was unable to also be in the kitchen collecting and delivering salads.  

I returned to the dining room to deliver drinks, bread, and take orders from table 46, 56, and 45.
While I was taking the dinner order from table 56, I saw the steaks arrive and be declined from table 66.  When I returned to the alley, I was ….

The story concludes with a 2 managers screaming at me during the peak of the busy shift, followed by a reprimand for late salad delivery - somehow my fault even though it was the kitchen that couldn’t / wouldn’t make them in a timely fashion. ( BTW,I was running 5 tables when corporate standards are 3.)

"24 Hour Nightmare of Death" - 10 year old describes annual pilgrimage

4th Grade Homework Assignment -Write about family traditions.
Transcribed by Aunt Sunny

    Every year the week before Christmas my family goes to visit my Grandmother in Virginia.  This tradition, has spawned many smaller traditions: some good, and some not.  

     Like clockwork, as soon as school ends for the Holiday Break,  we pile into the van and head North.  Thus begins what I call: “The 24 Hour Nightmare of Death.”

    Each time I am seated next to my big brother - aka- “The Monstrous Thing That Would Make a Grown Man Cry.”  Last year, he decided that the heel of his foot should connect with my nose during the second hour of our trip, right as we crossed the Georgia Border.  As a result, my nose bled for the next two hours.  I don’t want to continue this tradition.

    While riding in the car, our favorite past-time is to continually parrot the question: “Are we there yet?  Are WE there yet?  Are we THERE yet? Are we there YET?.”  We do this until we are already THERE or until my Mom yells:  “Enough Already!  You’re gonna make me pull my hair out!!”  I like this tradition.  It is fun.

    Halfway through our trip we stop at a stinky old motel where I get to share a bed with “The Monster,”  also known as my big brother.  Shortly after I fall asleep “The Monster” will start flailing around in his sleep.  I wake up and realize that my dream about getting beat up was not a dream, it is actually happening!!

    Fortunately, Mom always wakes up and sees what’s going on.  She then removes “The Monster” from the bed.  This is a tradition I do not want to continue...

    For the rest of the trip I avoid heels and flailing arms while chanting “Are we there yet?.”

    After five days with Grandma roasting marshmallows and snowboarding, we pile back into the van.  I again sit next to “The Monster” and “The 24 Hour Nightmare of Death” repeats itself all the way home. Visiting Grandma is a great tradition, but I’m not so sure about the other traditions...

Note from the "moocher"

This was written 6 months ago.  I've since started a new position that shows some real promise.  The stress I describe is hopefully safely in my rearview mirror, so I feel comfortable posting this now.  If you have a relative or friend going through tough times, here is a window into their thoughts.

Dear Fully Employed Friends and Roommates,

Please stop assuming that I should loan you appliances that I can not afford to replace if something should happen to them.  Please stop assuming that just because I “seem” okay with my financial situation that I am.  Please stop assuming that just because a favor only cost a few bucks that you shouldn’t have to reimburse me.

Don’t guilt me about my financial situation.  Trust me, I like it less than you do.  I am lucky if I earn $200 a week.  I am not comfortable or happy with this income.  You don’t have to tell me that I have the ability or skill set to earn more.  So do the hundred other people applying for the same available positions I am.  Do not tell me to cold call employers - this isn’t 2004 - most employers see walk-in applicants as a nuisance and will direct you to their website for an application.  It’s too expensive to keep applications available on-site with all the hopeful job seekers walking in the door.  If they need a position filled they will either ask their existing staff for referrals (Who does not know several qualified folks that need a job right now?) or they will advertise the job for free on Craigslist or some other website.

If I “seem” happy with my situation, it’s because I have to look at the bright side.  I am lucky to have a job.   Every compliment I receive at work  makes me feel wonderful and more valued than it would have in the past.  Passing compliments validate me as a valuable member of society.  Every criticism or complaint hurts more than it should or otherwise would if I were able to be fully, productively, and comfortably employed.  Each time I err or make a mistake, I worry that I will lose my job or a shift on the schedule.

I am fortunate that you need my assistance.  I am happy to care for your child, when you leave for work in the morning.  I am happy to drop him off at school.  I enjoy tutoring and helping him with his homework.  I am happy to pick him up from school when you can not.

I am happy to do your laundry and iron your work clothes.  I know that you’re colleagues don’t look as well put together as you do when they arrive for work and it makes me proud to be able to help you look good.  I am happy to sew buttons on your shirts and slacks and repair hems and frayed spots on these as well.

I don’t mind (that much) cleaning up your dishes along with mine since I tend to be guilty of leaving dirty dishes in the sink for later too.  I do mind the disapproving looks you give when it’s just my dishes.

I am pleased that I moved in to your unfurnished bachelor pad and was able to furnish it with dishes, cooking equipment, kitchen table, sofa, etc from my going-back-to-the-bank home.

I struggle to pay the electric bill each month, but am glad to be able to contribute financially to the household expenses.  

I am happy to loan you my vehicle when yours breaks.  I am happy to bend over backwards to assist when there is a scheduling problem, broken vehicle, work conflict with Juniors football, baseball,  and drop off or pick up from visits with Mom.  I will and have given away shifts and rearranged plans to make sure that I am there when you and Junior need me to be there.

I am grateful that I am able to have my pets with me in your home.  I am happy that Junior enjoys my pets almost as much as I do and that I am able to both enjoy them and share them with limited inconvenience to you.

I am happy to do all of these things and I wish I could do more.  Please stop making feel bad for not contributing more financially.  Please return my vehicle with gas in it.  Please reimburse me when I upfront money for Junior’s sports pictures or spend money entertaining Junior when school is out.

Please stop “poor-mouthing” like my presence is costing you more than you can afford.  Please stop eating my food or assuming that it’s no big deal to eat it.  If I can afford to offer it I will.  You see me watch the weekly sale fliers.  You see me clip coupons.  You see me cook almost everything from scratch (I can’t afford the pre-packaged convenience foods.)  You don’t see the guilt I feel when I treat myself to $5 of fast-food, so please don’t judge.  Even if you aren’t judging it feels like it.

Sincerely,

Just as miserable as you think I should be - but trying to turn it around - Friend.

How to Keep White Server Shirts White

Serving, like any job, has it’s moments - good and bad.  But nothing quite compares to the moment when your co worker bumps into you, spilling the contents of a fresh brewed iced tea pitcher all over your brand new, perfectly pressed,  now formerly perfect white shirt.

Maintaining the server whites can be a challenge and expensive, but it doesn’t have to be.  A new shirt from  *the discount store that shall not be named* runs about $13 plus tax.  With luck white shirts can be picked up at Ross or TJ Max for around $10.  Outside of regularly scrounging the thrift stores ( I have co workers that do this successfully),  any bump, slip, splatter, or drip can set you back a healthy portion of your nights wages in uniform replacement costs.

In the past I tried soaking, hydrogen peroxide, bleach, spot stain removal, spray starch, and hair spray (it works a bit like scotch guard if applied to the shirt prior to the shift).  I even tried soaking my shirts with dishwasher detergent. Pre-treating my shirts with a pure or laundry bar soap and water has worked the best for me.  All of these things work well - especially the bar soap, but not every mustard, tea, steak grease, or spaghetti sauce stain would come out.  Outside of adding dry cleaning to an already stretched budget, what is a server to do?

Ask Grandma - go old school.  The best way I have found to protect my server whites without spending a fortune on dry cleaning is good old fashioned boiled starch.   A one dollar investment in a box of Corn Starch will buy you a month (or more) worth of protection.  When you starch your shirts the old fashioned way you actually get the starch in the fabric.  Stains are more likely to stick to the starch and wash out with the starch during laundering.  Bonus, no more spray starch all over the floor under the ironing board.  Your shirt will keep it’s razor sharp creases throughout your shift, and you will look more professional.   Second bonus, with razor sharp creases management and customers are less likely to notice those stubborn spots that just won’t come out.

David Thompson gives a wonderful guide to making and using your own home made boiled starch in his article on Ehow article: How to Make Homemade Boiled Starch.  All you need is 1/4 cup corn starch and water.  Dissolve the corn starch in 1 cup of water.  After the cornstarch is dissolved add 1 quart of water and microwave until it boils stirring every so often.  This gives you stand up and salute heavy starch, after boiling the starch add another quart of water for a "medium starch." I usually add 2 cups of water to my starch solution, I guess you could call it a "heavy medium" starch.

I run my clean shirts through a rinse cycle in the washer to get them wet, put the boiled starch in the sink, dip and agitate each shirt through the starch, and hand wring out each shirt.  I then put all my shirts back in the washer and skip it straight to the spin cycle (not rinse - spin only).  This removes the excess water and starch solution from the shirts before they go in the dryer.

The dry shirts iron out beautifully with a steam iron and when I’m feeling fancy or encounter a tough wrinkle I use a spray it some homemade linen water (tap water works fine too) on it and it irons right out.

Btw - Homemade linen water is 1/4 rubbing alcohol, 4 cups water, and a teaspoon fragrance or essential oil mixed together in a spray bottle, shake before each use.  (Always spot check on an inconspicuous part of the fabric before use).  It also make a great air freshener!

 

Had to go there - apologies ahead of time - Restaurant Tipping

Mary Hunt, who authors the Everyday Cheapskate advice column, implies that you should only tip restaurant employees for excellent service.  The definition of excellent service being left to the reader. You can read her column here.  Shame on you Mary!

My response:

Dear Mary,

Your recommendations for tipping a restaurant server are wrong.  A minimum of 15% gratuity is expected, with the caveat of less for bad or poor service.  In many areas the expected gratuity is 20%, but not a point worth arguing.  Post tax or pre-tax, calculate it however you feel comfortable, if the extra dollar or two is going to break your bank, calculate it pre-tax.  

Adequate service is  being served by a friendly and efficient server throughout your meal, with any mishaps (over/under cooked steak/ wrong side item) fixed quickly and professionally with an apology and deserves a minimum15% gratuity.  If the service is less than described above you may reduce the gratuity.  

If the server listens to your  life story,  politely engages with your crazy, condescending, mean, or just plain weird dining partner(s), gets to know every child at your table by name and makes them feel special, refills your drinks every 2 minutes because you are extremely thirsty or brings you two  beverages at a time for the same reason, effectively communicates your complicated special order to the kitchen (which involves praying that the cooks are paying attention as well as the expediter reading the ticket before sending the order out), or otherwise makes you feel special, they deserve a minimum of 20% (substantially more if they do all of the above at the same time).  If they do all of the above at 7pm on a Saturday night adopt, marry, or hire that server because you just found a perfect person.

Please keep in mind that your server is paying 2-3% of your check total to support staff.  If you leave no tip, the server still has to pay for waiting on you.  That is simply unkind and unjustified in all but the most egregious situations.

Myself, I tip post-tax 20% plus $2.  The reason I throw in the extra $2 dollars is because for two dollars more I can brighten someones day, pay them a compliment, and make them smile.  I'm not saying that everyone should do that, but to me it's worth two dollars to make a fellow human being smile.  For truly exceptional, kind, or thoughtful service I tip more.

If I can't afford to tip, I eat at home or go through the local drive-thru.

About Me

I’m living life in the weeds - Financial Weeds that is. The Glossary of Restaurant Industry Terms defines In the Weeds as follows: “A colloquial expression used when persons are near or beyond their capacity to handle a situation or cannot catch up. Struggling. Very busy.“

In a restaurant the only way out of the weeds is to slow down, move and think deliberately, ask for help, and sometimes pray (quickly). At the end of the day weeds or not, the shift is over. You either triumphed heroically through the battlefield of a busy night or you went down in flames. Either way, you formulate the battle plan for tomorrow on your way home (how to do it better, do it right, keep the guest happy). Go to bed and start over the next day.

About me:: Formerly Fabulous Successful Full - Time Salesperson (salary, benefits, etc) Now Presently Part Time want(need)-to-be Full Time Chain Restaurant Server. In short, Like so many others I have harshly fallen from the Great Middle Class and joined the growing ranks of the barely surviving.

Long on time, but short on resources, I am learning what our Grandmothers and Great-Grandmothers already knew. Vinegar cleans just about anything, food cooked from scratch tastes better, and making/doing things yourself has it’s own rewards.

Armed with an income lower than most states unemployment checks, a room mate that needs child care and laundry service more than rent, internet access, and an inquisitive nature I am learning to live well with less - alot less.

How to Indulge, save money, and feel good all at the same time.

Lots of time on your hands with few bucks in your pocket?  You can eat better than your well and fully employed friends.  Better yet, share with your friends, maybe they’ll pick up the ingredients next time.

I found instructions for How to Make Homemade Pasta  from Scratch online.  A couple of hours, several Italian Fantasies,  and eighty cents worth of ingredients later,  I was enjoying my very first batch of homemade fettuccine noodles.  Wow!!  Yum!! Upscale -Restaurant quality. What I would imagine an Italian Grandmother making for her family.

According to the recipe you are create a mound of flour, in the middle of this volcano-mound top it with eggs, olive oil, and salt.  Whisk it all together and knead your dough to a glossy consistency.

Being a modern girl, I chose food processor over mound, top, and whisk.   It did a good job starting the dough, but required finishing by hand, kneading the dough until it was shiny.  Maybe I’ll try the by hand method next time.....

Next step, let the dough rest 30 minutes....  just enough time to give the pile of laundry some attention.

Now the fun part, dividing the dough, rolling it out folding it in half, repeat, repeat, repeat...  I imagined myself in a beautiful kitchen carefully preparing a wonderful meal for large Italian family.  I imagined myself a Chef lovingly preparing the staple ingredients for the nights dinner service. Finally, I imagined retiring the rolling pin permanently.

Let the dough rest for 30 minutes (again)... time to walk the dogs and consider ironing...

On cutting the dough.  For noodles, the recipe reads: “roll the sheets up loosely into a Swiss roll ... and use a sharp knife to slice noodles to the desired width.”  After producing three very jagged sad “noodles,”  I changed techniques.  All the hand rolling (with the soon to be retired rolling pin) was not going to result in jagged ugly noodles!!  

Taking a cue from a long ago drafting class taught with slide rules, I solved the ugly noodle problem....  Two chopping mats!! Placing my pasta sheet on the bottom mat and aligning the edges of the top map allowed me to make my own “slide rule.”  Pizza cutter in hand, imagining myself an Italian grandmother in a beautiful Tuscan villa complete with vineyards, slide rule as my guide,  I carefully cut fabulous, beautiful fettuccine noodles.  Mama Mia!  Success!

I carefully laid half the fresh noodles over a high top chair back to dry.  With anticipation, I dropped the other half into a salted pot of boiling water.  I quickly whisked together milk and parmesan cheese in a sauce pan over high heat.  One minute, Two minutes - al dente (hmmm,,, Should we cook it more or not? More! Said my brain.), Three minutes, Four minutes -- Overcooked.  Bummer.  

Topped with the improvised Alfredo Sauce, my overcooked homemade pasta was still better than most restaurants and definitely better than the dried stuff sold at the store and I did it!!  Too much time off and not enough work, treading on the wrong side of broke Me!!

But wait what about the rest of the pasta?? The pasta hung to dry??

Three days later...

Salted Boiling water with just a touch of olive oil -- Check

Garlic and Onions sauteing in a mix of butter and olive oil -- Check

The fettuccine drops into the boiling water.  One small tomato, salt, pepper, dried basil, leftover baby portobello mushrooms (they were on sale), and a small contribution from my room mates open bottle of red wine joined the garlic and onions in the saute pan.

One Minute, Two (check for Al Dente), Three Minutes, Four - and a half - Al Dente!!

Strain the fettuccine, put it back in the empty pot, take the saute pan and top the pasta, stir, plate, add Parmesan.  Wow!  Amazing!  You have to find one of those small, locally owned, Chef inspired Italian Restaurants to enjoy something this good!  

Bonus - leftovers - lunch tomorrow!

Wish list for next time - pasta roller/ cutter.  Found one on Amazon.com for under $30. Hmmmm....

Search Amazon.com for Pasta Maker