Sunday, May 29, 2005

I am an oppressed cocktail waitress

I work in an oppressive fascist bar. I wasn't trained, I was put through a two week program that borrows its philosophy from correction institutes. This place breaks you down and does a really shitty job of building you back up. I have nicknamed each of the owners already... Hitler, Stalin, Dr. Phil and Bono. (Sorry, I'm not a fan of Bono. Rockstar turned politician tool. Hence the nickname for the prettyboy waiter turned bratty co-owner. Neither of them do a whole hell of alot in the grand scheme of things, but they are damn good at being as cool as they possibly can.)

New Girl Bootcamp Schedule

Day one
:
You are nothing. You are the new girl. You don't know how to make drinks. You have no clue how to serve tables. You don't even know how to hold a tray. This is how you have to hold a tray. This is how you greet people. This is where you stand. This is where you walk. This is how you kiss the owners' asses.

And everything I am telling you, you won't remember because you are the new girl.

Day two: You are not the new girl, you are a new girl. You are the sixth girl I have trained this week. It's sink or swim in this bar and some of you will drown. Serve a table and I will follow you and watch you fuck up. Now, serve another table New Girl, and I will smoke this pack of cigarettes, flirt with my boss and collect the tips you earned for me.

Because I am a higher being and you, lowly cretin, are nothing but a New Girl.

Day three: No more sympathy New Girl. This is your last chance to watch me, the Goddess of Waitressing, and learn as much as you can. You are not permitted to touch anything, but watch and learn. Tomorrow you will be on your own and you must know everything by then. You must strive to be as perfect as me, the Goddess of Waitressing. I can see that you have potential, New Girl. If you are lucky, I will tell you some of my Waitress Goddess secrets to help you rise above the other peons.

New Girl, until you attain perfection, I will treat you like a punching bag.

Day four: You are on your own now. If you have questions, you will get in my way. If you fuck up, the owner will shoot you and carve out your heart and put it with the rest of them in the beer room. I will yell at you and degrade you in front of as many people as possible. At the end of the night, I will compliment you. But that's rare. Remember that.

You still are not worthy.

Day five: I will glare at you. I won't say anything, but I will glare at you.

Learn to fear the Goddesses and the Holy Owners, New Girl.

Day six: This is New Girl Night. I bet you all will lose money tonight. I bet you all will fuck up the credit cards. I bet you all will piss off customers and all I will do is say "I told you so". At the end of the night, a Holy Owner will give you a review of your performance.

You, New Girl, come here. You, unlike the other ones are a competent server and you made good tips. However, you must learn to not ask questions, you must figure it out for yourself. If you ask a question, ask a Waitress Goddess and then she won't tell you the answer and then tell me, Holy Owner #4, how dumb you are. I don't care if the question is about something we haven't told you yet, but have a specific protocol for how it must be done.

We, as the Holy Owners, don't want you to succeed. You are nothing and you will learn to understand that.

Day seven: You will cry. You will be told how dumb you are, how useless you are, and then you will cry. The bartender will tell you that he wants to cry after work. The bartender will tell you that you didn't fuck up too badly, that you will be fine. The bartender will defend you when a Waitress Goddess attacks you.

A Holy Owner will soften slightly and admit that he is hard to work for. Then he will tell you to come in tomorrow, absolutely perfect, and all will be right.

--

For the first time in my 5 years of work experience, I like the customers far more than the staff. How sad. If I last at this bar, I will never treat a new girl like shit. Ever.

4 comments:

Jay said...

Wow, that's harsh, but it sounds like you're almost laughing at your pain.

not the girl said...

I'm laughing right now about this... but the blisters on my feet are a smidgen less than funny.

mtlanglo said...

did you do a night as the "greeter"- that Thrusday we went we didn't know wether to tip her or not, like a strip club bouncer who seats you, or if she was just being bored and trying to attract patrons with her skimpy top.

We gave her a toonie...

not the girl said...

No thank god I didnt have to be the "greeter". Thank you for reminding me of a worse hell.