Cast of Characters - Part 1

In my first column, I said that the most interesting people I meet in the restaurant biz are not sitting at the tables but are working on the floor with me, and occasionally flashing their balls in the pantry. So I’m going to introduce you to this cast of characters over the next few weeks. That way, we can talk about them when they’re not here. Oh wait, they are my largest following. Well, here goes suicide by blog. Stay tuned for the fallout. . . more

Where the F is my black card?

Reservoir Dogs - Tipping Scene. Check it out.

This is one of my favorite scenes from an all-time favorite movie. In Quentin Tarantino’s “Reservoir Dogs,” this early scene sets the pace for Tarantino’s dialogue-heavy trademark style. Mr. Pink refuses to tip and his rationale is at once riveting and revolting. I first saw this movie before becoming a server, and I must say I agreed with Steve Buscemi by the end of his diatribe. But looking at it now, I’m amazed by the lack of research. . . more

Spring Fever

“It’s spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you’ve got it, you want - oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!” ~Mark Twain

Ah spring, fair spring. What’s not to love? Well, I can think of a few things. Spring in our restaurant starts with a small dip in business as people seek out al fresco dining. Our restaurant does best in snow, ice and driving rain. Dark mahogany walls, red leather booths and lights so dim that every server carries a flashlight does not bring out that giddy April afternoon hopefulness. . . more

Sure Fire Stereotypes

One of the earliest politically correct lessons we learn is that whole business about a book having a cover and how you shouldn’t judge it. Never mind that publishing houses spend millions each year figuring out exactly which covers will cause the “impulse buy” judgment. But I suppose the American Proverb came around sometime after someone sewed a book together and before Random House unleashed its army of Starbucks-guzzling marketing geniuses on middle America’s brains. I digress. At any rate, I call bullshit. Stereotypes exist because they are true. . . more

Neck Tie vs. Bow Tie

If given the choice between a white collar, nine-to-fiver or a job as a server, nine people out of 10 are going to choose the office job. Despite the annoyances of having to ALT+TAB out of Facebook when your boss pops in or gather in a cramped break room to sing a pathetic happy birthday song over an equally pathetic Hy-Vee birthday cake, even the lowliest of corporate America think they have something over on servers. Today, I give you the top five reasons your job sucks compared to mine. I’ve been in a cube, a corner office, and tableside. So trust me. . . more

For reelz ya'll

I can’t make this s**t up.

I was serving a six top in a private room. They had driven more than three hours for dinner because they had heard such great things about us, and I was looking forward to making it a night to remember. Regardless of what that twit who is hawking his book “Waiter Rant” on every co-hosted morning show says, servers really do care about the guest experience. As a side note regarding “Waiter Rant”, I also have never seen or even heard of a server messing with someone’s food as punishment. So relax. We just seek revenge in other ways . . . more

Perfect Storm

If you ever wondered if your server is sizing you up as he approaches the table, he is. But don’t worry. It’s nothing personal. We analyze everything and everyone and we won’t remember much or any of it by the end of the night. See, servers depend on the perfect storm to make money. And like a ship captain, we are constantly checking and rechecking our controls to see if it’s in the clouds. . . more.

Inside the Server's Studio

I’m up in the air about the title of my first Frothygirlz.com contribution. If you recognize the phrase “in the weeds,” then you’ve worked in a restaurant at some point. This is the only place I’ve heard it, and most people I know have earned a few years worth of rent serving burgers or beer or both and so you know what I’m talking about. In the off chance you coasted through high school, your twenties, and those weird months after your first career change or divorce without wearing an apron or flair of some kind, then I offer the following definition . . . more