Server Finds Herself on the Ground in Last Attempt to Salvage Tips From Customers During Shift Gone Wrong

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    "Desperate times call for desperate measures..." ""
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    Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures....
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    I was working at a privately owned fine dining restaurant some years back. It was 3 stories (4 staircases total) and even though we had food runners, all staff was required to help run food to the parties on the floors we weren't working if we were in the kitchen when it was plated. Not an ideal system to
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    begin with. It became even less so the busier we got. There was one particularly h lish Mother's Day where Murphy and his d n Law decided to come and take a massive d okie on the place. Reservations had been lost/deliberately not booked by a
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    hostess who had since been fired (in her defense she was wrongfully terminated but she scred over us as well as the owners). A nasty bug was going around and what staff we did have was all sick as dogs, miserable and exhausted from the grueling double we pulled
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    the day before. The kitchen was 5 tickets deep in the weeds. Our wine rep didn't drop off 3 cases of the featured Chardonnay and Champagne we had been advertising at a special price, and our only bartender (small bar, not
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    enough room for two) chose their other job over us that day, so we were stuck making most of our own drinks on top of everything else. Disaster. I had an 8 top that was looking to be my only saving grace during this
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    nightmare fever dream I was working through. We didn't do autograts on holidays, why, I'll never know. Things had gone well initially, but took a sudden turn into a steep dive off a cliff about halfway through. We somehow ran
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    out of several menu items even though we were only 4 hours into the shift. Between relaying delays and out of stock food/drink items to them and running around like a chicken with my head cut off with trays of food up, down, sideways
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    and outside (really) they were getting increasingly impatient and upset, mostly because they couldn't see me working my a off. I was drenched in sweat, my cuffs looked like I dunked them in coffee from helping load dishes in
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    between running food (dishwasher jammed and took an hour to fix) and my makeup was reminiscent of crying cuz I got stood up at prom from the lack of a.c. (also fritzed out, yay!!). Things were going downhill faster than a Jersey re. W
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    I had a 2 top who had been miserable c* ts since the moment their oversized bottoms hit their seats, and their food was up as I staggered, dazed, into the kitchen at Chef's bellowing HANDS!!. We had had to substitute one of their sides and no one let me know so I
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    could prepare them, so I mentally braced for the b ch session I was about to walk into. I was 20 feet away when I saw the man at the 2 top frantically looking around. When his beady eyes spotted me, the sneer on his face confirmed
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    he'd been searching for me, and wasn't too pleased about whatever it was he'd had to wait on. I could see my 8 tops heads swiveling as well, the disappointment on their faces when they realized it wasn't their food coming to them, despite having been there an hour, at least.
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    Other tables in my section were all looking distressed as well- from the hunger, the heat, and the hassel that should have been a nice meal out for their moms or wives. In that moment, my mind cleared and I made a decision.
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    I stumbled, half windmilling my arms in an "attempt" to maintain my balance, and my plates. I initially intended to drop to one knee, valiantly managing to "save" the beautiful filet with a pat of compound butter melting perfectly on top, and the pan seared salmon
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    with an artfully drizzled beurre Blanc sauce and a carefully balnced sprig of parsley, cut from Chef's personal herb garden. What I failed to take into account was my naturally clumsy nature that I had to fight tooth and nail to
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    overcome every single shift I worked when hastily crafting this plan. So what actually happened was I pitched headfirst into the water station, upending an entire tray of heavy, polished silverware and a half-filled stainless steel
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    pitcher onto my head while sending my dishes flying down the aisle where they exploded on the metal base of table 44. Even my sh ty 2 top ended up leaving 18%, and the 8 top collectively left me over 25%. I wouldn't normally even try for
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    sympathy tips if the mistakes were my fault, but this day, especially, was completely out of my control so I just don't feel bad doing what I needed to do. TLDR: tanked a 2 tops food to
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    get sympathy tips from my other tables on a crazy, busy holiday shift. Y'all ever eat it on purpose (or kinda accidentally on purpose)?
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    Fat_Head_Carl 7 hr. ago Things were going downhill faster than a Jersey Lol.... Been there before.
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    Oktazcat 6 hr. ago This made me snort laugh Brava, madam!
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    JupiterSkyFalls OP. 5 hr. ago Lol glad I could be of service

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