Restaurant work can be brutal, fun and puts a real stompin' on your rose colored glasses. i met my wife of 47 years working together at a restaurant, and we were laughing about some of the crazy shjit we remembered, just this morning; no lie. Great piece.
47 years? What were folks even eating back then? But seriously: the restaurant life is no joke. The first girl I ever dated was a waitress at the Corral.
I worked at a local “spaghetti house,” fast-Italian and sandwich restaurant with a similar experience while surviving on its food as I went through high school and college. In summers I doubled as a laborer/unlicensed apprentice plumber in a family company during the days before taking every nightshift available. The kicker about this place was the unbearable heat in summers and drafty cold winters in the kitchen because the owner wouldn’t invest in a functional HVAC for the back of the house. I kid you not, dripping, certainly onto food at times, and drenched in sweat after a summer rush in a 100 degree kitchen. Definitely the days of harder work for me than the present WFH keyboard and mouse job.
The explanation I was given was that the tip money already went in the collection plate. Probably not correct for all cases, but would at least explain some of them.
Restaurant work can be brutal, fun and puts a real stompin' on your rose colored glasses. i met my wife of 47 years working together at a restaurant, and we were laughing about some of the crazy shjit we remembered, just this morning; no lie. Great piece.
47 years? What were folks even eating back then? But seriously: the restaurant life is no joke. The first girl I ever dated was a waitress at the Corral.
I worked at a local “spaghetti house,” fast-Italian and sandwich restaurant with a similar experience while surviving on its food as I went through high school and college. In summers I doubled as a laborer/unlicensed apprentice plumber in a family company during the days before taking every nightshift available. The kicker about this place was the unbearable heat in summers and drafty cold winters in the kitchen because the owner wouldn’t invest in a functional HVAC for the back of the house. I kid you not, dripping, certainly onto food at times, and drenched in sweat after a summer rush in a 100 degree kitchen. Definitely the days of harder work for me than the present WFH keyboard and mouse job.
The explanation I was given was that the tip money already went in the collection plate. Probably not correct for all cases, but would at least explain some of them.