ONE perfect day...

I can hear the gasps as you all recoil in shock. Yes, I said it. A "perfect Day" at Captain Rigatoni's!

We must remember that perfection is relative; what might seem perfect in a normal workplace is never, ever going to happen at Captain Rig's House Of Pain so we must take whatever bone life throws us.

To achieve the day of perfection there is a key ingredient: the elimination of almost 100% of the staff. This includes the obvious players: Capt Rig himself, Jan, Her Man Slave, Bobbi, Ashley, Gina and pretty much any new people who declare retarded things like "Where is Captain Rig today? Things just aren't the same without him!!" VOM DOT COM bitches- don't say ridiculous things like THAT if you wish to live in my little world.

The perfect day would be rather overcast because who wants to be inside on a nice day (I'm getting picky here but am actually setting the scene for the "perfect day that WAS") On the "perfect day that was" it was cool and cloudy out.. The perfect day would also be a weekday, because the head-honchos are always there on the weekend (and the "day that was" was a Monday- rock on!)

I arrived at my own personal hell to find that things were going to be fan-freaking-tastic! On the schedule in big, obvious letters were my Fab self, my HWF, the NNG (who was slightly less new at that point) Marissa and (sadly) the HWF's nemesis before she got fired for running her mouth. Bobbi was there but was in a magnanimous mood because she had just fired several people and that get's her feeling all powerful and kind of... high. Yipes!

Since The Nemesis was good for garbage I proclaimed myself to be the Boss, the queen of The Kitchen and the master of Everyones Domain. Watch out suckers, there was a new sheriff in town! No doubt about it: I spent the night hollering at everyone to dry silverware, to not be idiot douchebags and I generally tried to morph into a little hybrid of Jan & Gina. I kid, I kid!

Somehow even without Jan there to micromanage our every move we got things done! It was busy enough to keep us all moving right along and- GASP- by some stroke of luck everything got taken care of (including, rather shockingly, the CUSTOMERS) and nobody felt like killing anybody else because we all were nice to one another. We were a happy group of people and to add to the joy I hollered "THIS is the BEST DAY EVER" approximately every .2 seconds. I like to make my feelings known to the world.
The good feelings and happy mood must have rubbed off on my customers because I made an absurd amount of money for a Monday. A two top left me a 110% tip which had me literally bouncing off the walls in joy and ecstacy! (I'm really annoying when I get too happy. Oh well!)

The whole night was the bombdiggity and it was determined that if every day on the job was like that we would all work there forever with smiles on our faces and springs in our steps. High fives were exchanged for jobs well done. We all patted one another on the backs for being a team of rock stars who do not need to pillage and plunder in order to take care of business. None of us missed the Head Harpies even one little bit (maybe the Nemesis did. She did not enjoy working with a kitchen full of happy "new" people. Poor her!)

It was no shock to any of us when things returned to their hateful norm the very next shift. The good thing was we all had memories of the one and only perfect day ever to make things a little bit better. Like I mentioned, in a crazy crummy place like Capt Rig's you take what you can get, make lemons out of lemonade and appreciate the luck that is getting ONE great day.

And then there were four....

When you are a new girl (or guy) at Captain Rig's House Of Pain the pride and joy of being the newest member of the awesome-o team lasts about one hour. Not only because you realize that you are working in the worst place ever but because that is how quickly they hire people.

I was the newest girl for two days. Then after the new-new girls quit the following week I was the newest new girl all over again... This went on for quite some time until the Tattletale and Marissa were hired and decided to stick around for a bit.

Right around Christmas time a New-New Girl was hired in a rather unusual way. Marissa had been waiting on her and her fiancee and had taken a shine to her- had brought her not just an application but Bobbi herself to give an on the spot interview. She was hired straightaway (clearly I had no chance to warn her about the sloppy mess she was about to get herself into) and she arrived at my favorite place on earth just after New Year's.

I had reached the point of paying very little attention to the new hires. I had seen so many come and go with such predictability that I felt it was not worth my time and effort to even learn their names. I loved my newfound, bitter attitude. I found that it really suited my personality and gave me a whole new lease on life. I saw myself morphing into a mini-Jan, trundling about screaming "DOUCHEBAG" and bossing everyone to death. Lucky for me, I had a firm grip on reality and my HWF to be snide to- both of which saved me from continuing on a clear path to destruction.

Anywhoo. On the NNG's 1st day there, she had the best luck ever and was assigned to help my fabulous self in the infamous lettuce department. Despite my initial horror over the mass production of chopping lettuce (and my continued terror of being drowned in the sink) lettuce had become my favorite job and I was a freaking rock star at it. Marketable skill right there, not to mention an impressive line item on ones resume. She seemed like a quiet, timid little soul and I was not convinced that Marissa had had the right idea about her. And then.... She started to say funny stuff. And I discovered that not only was she a bit eccentric but we also shared the same views on letting our dogs sleep in bed with us (and that is more critical than having our poor husbands sleep with us. Sorry boyzzz.) This was clearly enough to build a friendship on and so we damn well did.

I said to my HWF later that day "I think there might be 4 of us now...." Which did in fact prove to be the case.

It did indeed, for that particular moment......

Coworkerdependancy....

Coworkerdependancy: A situation where ones enjoyment of work (or lack thereof) is based on the proximity of ones favorite coworker and their ever ready wine key.

I am a hostile beast who tends to repel people in the same manner that raid discourages wasps from coming to visit. So I have no friends what so ever.

OK. Not entirely true! However, at Captain Rigatoni's House Of Pain the thought of actually developing a proper (not to mention pleasant) friendship with anyone is a bleak prospect. Make a friend? They get fired the next day. (or we have a very important meeting in which we are forbidden to make friends.) Get all chummy with somebody? And you walk in on them talking smack to Jan about your skills/looks/temperament. HEY-OH! Nice.

The absolute and unarguable situation at Capt Rigs is this: if you do not have somebody who has your freaking back- and who you can also share moments of eye rolling sarcasm with- then you will just curl up and die from despair and mental anguish.

I remember at all of my jobs having a good work friend. You find somebody who has similar geek-like qualities, no bad feelings about making fun of everyone who acts like an idiot and POOF the next thing you know you are speaking in your own secret language and scampering off to the walk in cooler to gossip like a couple of school girls.

I have to give MAD props to my HWF for becoming no doubt, hands freaking down my best work friend. THANK HEAVENS! I need to borrow a wine key? No prob. I need to borrow that wine key FIVE times in one night??! Pssssh, no problem again. Do we share mutual disdain for Jan, her Man Slave and most people including all of management? Hells YES. Have we managed to assist one another in the saving of what is left of our sanity so that we can go home at the end of the day like somewhat normal- well adjusted people?? Maybe?... (I kid. Definately.)

Friends are good to have. Completely underrated in today's society of questionable loyalty and bus throwing-under. Does it warm the insides of my bitter stone-cold heart to know that I have a BF there to give the side eye to when Captain Rig has an "I'm Great" meeting, or when Gina runs thru the dining room criticizing everything and everyone? (or when Captain Rig entertains an entire room of Republicans, all spewing their Republican views?) MmmmHmmmm.

I don't want to turn this into a sappy diatribe on the meaning of true friendship in a harsh, uncaring world of idiots. Well, maybe I want to but I'm not so good at wrapping my head/typing fingers around all that sappy junk (just ask the middleaged Huz!)

But really people, when one works in a place where insanity and hatred is the norm it makes you appreciate your friend/s just a tiny bit more. Or a crap ton more, if you are me.

So here's to you, HWF. Rock on with your bad self, and cheers to our shared hatred of all the BS and the folding of millions of napkins. Good job having my back when things get especially ridiculous and absurd (would that be everyday? YES.) And clearly, I have your back too... And finally thank you times a million for saving/helping my sanity, for enabling me to open many, many bottles of wine and for being a helluva good person.

My adventure in fairly poor service.

I was thoroughly spent after my attempts to be the very best waitress in the universe. I was exhausted from the strain of repeating 19 specials a dozen times a night, fed up with figuring out what the house wine of the day was, and just plain fed up with giving 100% to be rewarded with 20%. BAH!

My plan for recovery? Spend one blissful Friday night being a horrible server. Evidently I exaggerate because on my laziest day I still do a damn good job and nobody goes home hungry and crying. My actual plan was to read ZERO specials, give ZERO extra effort, tell NO funny stories and be rather... Beige. Watch out world, I thought brazenly to myself at 3:59 on a Friday afternoon, HERE comes mediocrity!

I did not disappoint. Instead of running bread to my tables I wandered over with it when I felt good and ready. If I felt the need to reapply chapstick or run to the ladies room I did so, regardless. I made up outrageous names for the house wines "tonight we have.... billowing ferns shiraz!" (to which one lady replied "I have had that before and it is wonderful!" PFFT!!) I didn't feel like finding a new tiramisu when one ran out so I simply omitted it from my list of dessert specials. I pretended that the cappuccino machine was broken (and luckily nobody else used it during this period of time!!)

By the end of the evening I had not broken a sweat and was in a blissful state of calm and relative relaxation. It was quite lovely and a very unusual feeling, to be honest.

And how did this little experiment work out for me? FREAKING FANTABULOUSLY!!!! I made a CRAP ton of cash- averaging 25% per table and really hitting the mother load on a 14 top who loved the new and improved me.
Sadly, being this much of a slacker on a regular basis would draw a fair amount of attention to me which I would like to avoid. So despite the fact that being a BIG slacker pays off big time I will have to avoid it as a rule.

A side note: unlike my last lazy experiment I was a diva superstar all night in the kitchen, running food, drying silverware, singing and dancing. All of my coworkers must have thought that I had been bitten by the helpful good employee bug... If they only knew...

DEATH. Has entered the building....

"Death.... Has just entered the building..." my HWF said ominously as he, waiter Dan and I stood by the wait station.

"What. WHAT?" I asked, a bit perplexed. "Just watch" they both suggested, so I turned my eyes to the front of the building. A new girl walked in the door and made her way towards us. Actually, "made her way" is generous- rather, she moped and shuffled her way down the hall. Her mouth pouted petulantly and her heavily shadowed eyes were sorrowfully cast to the ground. She walked with the air of someone who has suffered greatly, and had known horrible troubles. She was clearly VERY sad (in a way that is clearly NOT sad, so nobody get too worried ok?)

I watched with a mixture of horror, intense amusement and honest shock that she managed to even get hired as she came closer to us. She was clearly attempting to sneak by the three of us without attracting attention but she was messing with the wrong group. "HELLO" said waiter Dan with the kind of intense cheerfulness that he can pull off (that I can not) "How are YOU?" She turned her eyes towards us in the manner of a deer in the headlights, literally squeaked and ran off. I fell down laughing "Are you SERIOUS!" I guffawed "NO WAY.... that is the best thing I have seen in YEARS!" They both assured me that not only were they 100% serious but so was this new girl, and that they were positive that I would enjoy her company.

I decided to get to know her so I asked her what her name was. She told me, with big pouty lips and an extra dose of sadness in her eyes. I was delighted to find that she had a very unusual name which meant "To build up to or reach a point of great intensity, force, or volume." Since she spoke in such a mousy little whisper I was a tad skeptical that this was a fitting name. I asked for details, wishing to know if it was a family name or just a bit of misfortune. AND SHE SAID (in mournful tones, growing more depressed my the second) "My parents had me pegged from the moment I was born..... They knew exactly what my personality would be like...." To which I enthusiastically thumped the reservation book and declared "Fantastic!"

She crept around all night, jumping at noises and freaking out at the crazy busy pace at which we all moved (it was a Monday. It was dead... Poor kid.) One of the other servers said to her "Hi." and she said (get ready) "Hi. Like I told you." WHaaaaaaaaat??

She was fully awesome and I was looking forward to watching the continued insanity- I was very curious to see what her level of nuts-o was! My attempts to help her out were met with such bizarre levels of crazy that I gave up quickly and took enjoyment in watching the train wreck. Sadly, during her next shift the powers that be had had enough of her pouting and inability to speak above a whisper and let her go. So sad... So surprising...

RIP, Fallen Friends

I'm not so morbid as to write about actual dead coworkers. But: the cold hard fact of a job at Captain Rig's is that at any moment you could get fired. Or just get tired of the nonsense and quit. Blaze of glory!! Here is our roll call...

1- So, so many new people who walk thru the door filled with hope and innocence. A rough count of the people who have left before making it thru training: 9 And people who have made it thru training to quit about 1 Saturday shift in: 5

2- Total number of people with names like strippers to quit: 2 (much to my amusement and dismay.) I expect this total to climb to 3 shortly as pole dancer #3 walked in last night.

3: Youth of America: 4 (1 quit outright. 2 politely gave notice. 1 was fired after making the biggest mistake ever.)

4: The bad people: 4
-Karen (will need to find otherways to make $ to pay for much needed dental work.)
-The Nemesis (of my HWF)
-The Tattletale (good riddance)
-the Flighty Waitress (lots of drama here!)

5: 1 cook. BIG blaze of glory! Awesome!!!

6: 3 hostesses. Complete turnover of the front desk.

7: 3 random bus-people. Very confusing, as "we don't HAVE bus-people!"

8: I'm editing this hours later to add someone VERY important! Shrek! The big, bumbling be-speckled close talker who oddly lasted about 5 weeks. Egads.... And sadly, the very nice lady who helped me get thru my first few horrific shifts (she got a better job..)

Holy Crap! So in my 7 months there 33 people have been in-and-out- that is really astonishing. If only Ashley, Jan and Gina were on the list. I can only hope they are soon to follow! (haha, I'm labeling this under Avoidence of Work becasue getting fired or quitting is definately avoiding work!)

My Adventure in Excellent Service: Part 2

.....My evening continued.

After the Emo Princess fiasco I considered throwing in the towel and finishing up my night in a sub par state of angst. However, I had challenged myself to dole out the very Best Service Possible so I slapped myself a bit and carried on.

I got a table of "VIP's" so no check, but a bit of calculation proved that a 22% tip had been left (good, but if you get all that food for free this middleaged lady thinks that a few more bucks could be thrown down!)

Then I was seated with a John Locke (pre-smoke monster fiasco) lookalike and his buxom female friend. They were some odd ducks, let me tell you! He kept saying things like "I'd like you to bring me a Caprese salad- and I'll PAY for it!" Damn straight you will, bucko! I knocked their socks off with my fantastic waitressing abilities and I was rather disappointed to discover that they had left me a stingy 17% tip. Not really able to figure out why they had been such cheap little peeps I shook it off and got to back to it. Their table was placed in a manner that required that I pass it every time I went to another one of my tables. After a few passes by John Locke asked for more coffee, and when I retuned handed me a clump of folded bills. Hmmmm! Five more bucks (much better!) Another pass by their table resulted in another handful of wrinkly little dollar bills (this was a game that I encouraged, and could get used to! Tip me multiple times, bring it on!!) After all was said and done I had earned a solid 30-ish percent on them which made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And justified, since they had been rather full of themselves.

My final table for the evening started out just fine and dandy. A two top, obviously an old married couple who simply wanted to get down to the business of eating with no falderal. The husband had some problems getting the dish he wanted for dinner formed into words and out of his mouth. Pointing to the menu I helpfully inquired if the dish in question was the one I was guiding him to? Looking closely at the menu he confirmed that was indeed what he wanted: a formidable stack of italian meats and eggplant, smothered in layers of gooey cheese and blanketed with marinara. I delivered said items to the table promptly and everyone looked pleased as punch. Returning a moment later to confirm the gastronomic ecstasy they indicated boundless pleasure in their dinner choices. I returned once more with water and everyone was still as happy as a clam (really? how happy IS a clam? they have very small brains... or no brains at all?) When plate clearing time came around I was pleased to see that the dinners had been eaten down to the last morsel- more happy customers! I picked up the plates and the man said "Was that.... Chicken Marsala that I ordered?" Looking at him in a bit of shock I said no, it was the Magical House Specialty as he had requested. "Well" he replied bitterly "that is not what I wanted at all and I don't even know what was IN IT." I rattled off the list of ingredients, thinking at the very least the absence of both chicken and marsala sauce might have made him aware of his error. "NEVER" he muttered "would I eat EGGPLANT." "Well" I replied thoughtfully "there is a great deal of eggplant in what you just ate so perhaps you have found a new favorite since you CLEARLY enjoyed it?" "You know" he said in hostile tones "I should get this meal for free since it was your mistake..." "HA. HA. HA." I laughed brightly, wishing to deliver a swift kick to his face. I got their check. I comped one of their beers, which brought the bill to exactly what it would have been if he had received what he wanted. I examined his licked clean plate for any signs that he did not enjoy his dinner, and found none. I was not at all surprised to discover that they left me a 0% tip on a $55 check. Surprised, no, a little teensy bit pissed off? MmmHmmm. I asked you if said item was what you wanted, you said yes. I checked on you not one but THREE times to see if all was well, you said yes... You ate the WHOLE frigging thing..

COME ON PEOPLE!!!

At the end of the night, it all balanced out. I averaged an even 20% due to Captain Douchswizzle and his inability to differentiate marinara from marsala. And good times were had by all.