Work, sort of. Rant, definately.

So I returned to work post-surgery in the third week of August, but due to not having full strength back in my shoulder/arm, I'm hosting instead of serving. The very first job I ever had in a restaurant, oh so many years ago, was hosting, so I know what it entails. However, when I did that I was the only host on the floor. Now, in corporate land, we run our busy weekend shifts with five to six hosts. Two to three of them actually seat people, taking them to tables, getting the high chairs and whatnots, and bringing menus from their deposit areas back to the front. One person organizes where everything will go. Another takes the names for the waits, handing out pagers and fixing quote times. The last, is what we call Greeter 1, but should be titled, World's Most Boring Job.

This person, and I'm not making this up, opens the door and says, "welcome." Years ago I worked for a temp agency and spent a week at a print shop coallating papers. That was riveting compared to this. When I'm assigned this job (which is less frequent now that we have newer people hired in) I cannot help but wander off. I'm normally a pretty good worker, but this takes all my work ethics and pushes them past where they will go. Despite how low my hourly wage is for this, it seems ridiculous for a job that in no way other than boredom resembles what I'd call 'work', but for the boredom, I think it should warrant hazard pay...as its making me crazy.

I think it would bother me less badly if it wasn't so pointless. Our restaurant has double sets of doors; I'm only opening the internal set, so I'm not saving you much. You still have to open the outer doors yourself. Telling you welcome is pointless, as at least two other hosts and your server after me will do the same thing. And the worst, is that you will quickly figure out I'm pointless. The first employee a person sees upon entering is expected to answer thier most pressing question, "How long is the wait?" and being that I haven't left the freakin door for two hours, I haven't a clue.

On a side rant...to those who never worked in a restaurant...that question is pointless. Even in the position of taking names, and therefore making expected quotes, I cannot answer that question without knowing if you want smoking, non, or first available, and the even more important, how many in your party?

I'm amazed every week, especially on sundays when we get the most large parties, that people get angry that tables get seated before them. NOTE: two people can fit in a four-person-top booth. Fifteen people cannot, and as booths are affixed to the floor, I cannot push them together for you, so yes, those four couples will go before you. And yes, I know those eight people came in after you, but they wanted the currently empty section of smoking. I do not feel that you should sacrifice your health, even for the short term of a dinner (which greatly affects the taste of the meal) to sit in smoking. I'm just saying, don't blame me that other people would like to exercise their rights in enviroments that still allow them to do so.

My job is not created, nor is my personality geered to, trying to jip you out of your good dining experience, quite the opposite. We are not playing favorites, either with the parties or the servers. When I organize who gets seated where, I am looking at a set of names and group numbers, and no one has recorded for me your race, religion, or how nice you are. It just goes how it goes best, in the quickest method possible for everyone. I can see that a table has paid, and hope they will get up soon and you can sit there, but if they decide to then drink their coffee for another hour, there's nothing I can do about it. And although everyone in the restaurant dislikes their doing it, we will later not stop you from doing the same thing, nay, we will just keep bringing you the coffee.

Last sunday I really wished someone had included personal information on a party. I sat these three people in the center table in the dining room, having not been warned that one of them (on a sunday afternoon post church crowd lunch, mind you) was wearing a T-shirt that said, "Jesus hates pussies." I wouldn't have made them wait longer, but I'd have sent them into a booth somewhere to avoid the angry looks and complaints from the tables around them. I politely explained to the other whispering patrons there was nothing I could do, to which they explained their religious affiliation back to me. As if that changed matters. What I wanted to say was, "Like it or not, the same ammendments that give you the chance to worship as you'd like gives him the freedom to wear that shirt any day of the week." But that would have just hurt the tips of the servers on the floor.

Oh, and although I'll now wrap up my sunday restaurant rant, one last point. Bible tracts from your church can be left WITH the tip, but not instead of it. You might be surprised to learn, but I cannot feed my children on your compliments or good wishes for my soul, no the grocery store still only accepts money.