Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Not dead

Depression sucks. Spending two SOLID MONTHS in it? Sucks even harder. Not saying it's over now, but I am enthusiastic enough about my life now to dedicate a blog post to it.

(And for once, I can't really point at any identifiable trigger for the depression. Chemicals. And work. More work than chemicals, probably)

Work has been...slow. Winter in south texas DOES equal an influx of (old) people (sorry snowbirds, but if I go for a bike ride, six different people almost run me over and four of them have white hair, it's the kind of thing you notice. But to the young woman who ONLY looked left before she pulled out, thus almost hitting the cyclist on the sidewalk (I know I know, bikes shouldn't be on sidewalks, but we have no bike lanes on the highways and I don't want to be strawberry mush) because she couldn't be arsed to look right? Fuck you. I could have been a kid, that was a big ass truck you were driving, and you wouldn't have seen an eight year old running after something at the last second the way you did me. Also, this hypothetical tot wouldn't have gotten the hell out of your way like I did, because kids are not fast like bikes are. Remember what you learned in kindergarten next time, and look BOTH ways. Driving cars does not absolve you of that responsability. And Again: FUCK. YOU.)

My boss, on the other hand, has proven that She. IS. AWESOME. It is not often that a boss will call a customer an idiot TO HER FACE (online) but when they do...it doesn't hurt that we were already talking about this particular lady BEFORE she posted a bad review of the very thing that made her an idiot. Her complaint was that we didn't know what a Cosmo was. Which would be reasonable IF (reasons in order of stupid):

1.The waitress wasn't two weeks new, having never worked at a restaurant before.

2. The waitress wasn't twenty years old. That is, too young to drink AND too young to remember (and have watched or been interested in) Sex in the City. (trust me. She's a nice girl, she looks cool, but you only have to look at her to know she never came within sixteen miles of watching Sex and the City) the show that made Cosmos into a Thing.

3. IF WE ACTUALLY HAD A FULL FUCKING BAR. Apparently, not having a full collection of booze is the most offensive thing a restaurant can do. Yes, eaters of the world, we, the waitstaff of this humble, family-owned restaurant, went out of our way to PERSONALLY INCONVIENCE YOU by not carrying liquor AND not knowing what your muddle of a drink is.

I actually watched this happen, and it was kind of amazing. New girl hands woman menu, woman hands it back, demands Cosmo. The waitress, not knowing that a Cosmo contains vodka, takes the order and then has to go back to the table to explain that we cannot serve strong liquors here, as we have no liquor licence AND NEVER HAD. We had NO indications that we served anything other than beer and wine. I will concede that having to go back to the table was the error on our part, but the girl literally did not know that a Cosmo was something we could not legally make. Lady then goes berzerk. How DARE we not know what a cosmo is. How DARE we not be able to serve it to her when she condescended to explain it to us. How DARE we not have a full bar. She got up and left. Good riddance, says the boss. We don't need people like that in here anyway.

And then we read the review and found out something interesting: Cosmo-lady had been here before. And loved it.

Thing is? Up until recently, we've NEVER had a liquor licence. We've NEVER been able to serve anything stronger than Port or Sake. So the first time she was here? There would have been no Cosmo. Come three years ago? No Cosmo. Ironically, about a week later? We DID get our liquor licence, though we lied our ass off to customers and said it was still in the pipe (Had to buy the booze before we could serve it. Oh, and Fun Fact time! Texas law requires you buy restuarant booze from a liquor shop licenced to sell to restaurants. So if the only licenced shop in your county is the single worst store in said county? And they give you a really pathetic bulk discount? And continually either forget portions of your order or get the wrong stuff? Tough shit.)

So if Cosmo-Lady had come in AFTER we got the licence, installed the bar and purchased the booze? She could reasonably have held us accountable for not knowing what a Cosmo was (vodka, cranberry juice, something else I forgot. We don't get a lot of orders for the things). But she would never have known that her waitress didn't have a clue what a Cosmo was, because we also got a couple of great cheat books to go by, and when someone orders an incomprehensible mess, we can either figure out what the hell it is, or fake it.  

So no, Lady. Even if the waitress had been a fully trained bartender with awards for her skills and services, you would not have gotten your boozed up cranberry juice. You would have been told that immediately (Sorry, beer/wine only!) but you wouldn't have gotten it. You can complain about bad service. You can complain about the decor (though why you would want to is beyond me) and you can complain about the food. But it's REALLY unreasonable to complain that you didn't get something that, by law, we cannot give you.

It's like the more recent time when a pair of customers threw the menu back in my face and asked for something not on the menu at all. I think it was bacon wrapped shrimp. Sounds awesome, and IF they were someone we knew and IF it were not a busy-as-hell Friday night (time taken out to wrap shrimp in bacon is time better spent making the things that ARE on the menu that we ARE prepped for, for regular customers who don't have the brass-faced gall to dictate our menu to us) I might have tried to sweet talk the cook into doing it. IF the customers had not gotten bitchy with me for not immediately going "OH, Sure! I'll just zip on over and ask the cook to make something he's never made before on the busiest night of the week!" and instead saying, "Uh...I have no idea what that is" (they didn't even say "Shrimp wrapped in bacon", but gave it the title we apply to fish in crawfish sauce. And we have several other dishes named things that mean something completely different in another restaurant. How the fuck should I be able to translate your Dish X into "Shrimp wrapped in Bacon" when Dish X means something else here?) "but I'll see if we can do it."

This is like going up to a foot doctor and, spur of the moment, asking him to operate on your kidneys. He could probably do it if he had to, but probably not the way you want it, and it's not a very smart thing to do. And if the doctor, or in this case, the cook, is not your friend and is already elbows deep in the stuff he IS good at doing? Door's over there. Don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out.

*deep breath*

Okay. I'm better now. And having a boss that will back you to the hilt on both occasions? IS. AWESOME.