Menus

Menus are great. They're glossy and visually appealing, and they pack a wealth of concise information into neatly organized columns. Menus tell whether a restaurant serves Coke or Pepsi products, give prices and ingredients for most entrees, and they also list side options as well as any related costs of substitutions or extras. The hours of operation, contact information, and restaurant policies (such as adding an automatic gratuity to large parties or charging to split an entree) are almost always listed somewhere on the menu. And although it may not be a fascinating read, it certainly is worth the while.

It's a wonder then, that more people don't take the time they're given to read the menu. I get it, though. Sometimes the restaurant can be dark. The print is too small for some, while others can't focus when they're hungry. And most people are distracted by something: their kids, their phones, or the game on TV. That's where I come in. I am paid to know the menu, inside and out. I have memorized ingredient lists and been thoroughly tested on my menu knowledge, and I can rattle off side options like a pro. I know the soups of the day, and which items are (or can be prepared) vegetarian or dairy-free. I can usually predict how long it will take for the kitchen to cook a well-done steak or a salmon fillet on a busy Friday night. And if there's a question that I don't know the answer to (like whether the breading on the chicken has an ingredient that could trigger some obscure allergy), I am happy to find out.

For the most part, I don't mind reciting burrito or salad ingredients to a table. I use the time to establish a rapport with my customers; it's like making small talk about the weather, only with food. When I am knowledgeable about the menu and can answer people's questions quickly and definitively, it reflects positively on my work ethic and overall intelligence. The only time I am not willing to list every ingredient in the kitchen is for a take-out order; people who don't know what they want then they call inevitably end up getting put on hold, because there are other people calling who do know what they'd like to eat.

I ask only two things of dine-in patrons: First, if someone at your table has a question (like what types of cheese are offered) that you would also like to know the answer to, please pay attention the first time. My willingness to rattle off sandwich toppings decreases exponentially every time I have to repeat them to the same table. And second, please don't get snippy with me when I ask follow-up questions about your order (such as how well to cook a steak). Some menu items have more options than others, and I am just trying to get your order right the first time. There's no need to be condescending, and besides-- if you're going to act like you're smarter than I am, you should at least be able to read.

Please Wait to be (Con)ceited

It's high time I get the ball rolling on one of my "bucket list" projects; I'm not getting any younger, you know! Since most of my ultimate goals involve spending a great deal of money or amassing a wealth of knowledge (to travel to far-away places or to save the planet), I've decided to start small. I've always wanted to write a book, and since I don't have the vivid imagination of a fiction writer or a novelist's patience for outlining plots and developing characters, I need to write about what I know. And right now, what I know (and have known-- off and on-- since high school) is what it's like to work in the service industry.

I know how it feels to be judged for wearing an apron, stocking shelves, and preparing food. I know what it's like to be the source of people's (usually misdirected) anger, and I've been trained to accept criticism, insults, and ridicule with a smile. I know the torment of being overqualified for the part-time positions I have held. And I know the agony of not being able to tell those who assume I'm unintelligent, that I've chosen this less-than-desirable employment because its part-time hours and ever-changing schedules are what has given me the freedom and flexibility to put myself through school and to pursue my true passions.

I believe I can provide readers with a (more or less) objective view of life as a service-industry worker. I hope to share my experiences and present my insights in a collection of essays/short stories/vignettes, and my ultimate goal would be to publish these works in book form (see [copyrighted!] working title, above). And until Congress mandates that every American citizen hold at least one job serving the public, I'd like the revelations in my book to be the next-best thing! If my stories can get even one person to think twice about the way they speak to a cashier or a waiter-- to wait to be conceited-- I will consider this endeavor to be "mission accomplished."

So in an attempt to make at least one of my dreams become a reality, many of my blog posts from here on forward will be restaurant (or retail) related. All I ask of you, my dear readers, is to tell me what works and what doesn't. Tell me what you'd like to know as well as the topics I should avoid. Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings; I've worked retail. I've waited tables. I've been trained to take even the harshest criticisms with a smile. With that said, let the food fight begin!