By Marie Beachdale

Sunday, Jan. 15, 2012, Surfside Beach - It’s time I stop calling out restaurant diners and talk about the terrible and embarrassing things I have done as a waitress.

 
Let’s be honest, even the best servers have had their fair share of “oh shit” moments and occurrences that have left them red in the face. I’m no different, and my first example is one I just couldn’t figure out how to handle.

I was taking care of a family of four - a father, mother and two children - and they were especially friendly. They had already received their food, and when I checked up on them the father asked me about things to see and do in the area.

I LOVE playing tour guide and giving families my best recommendations, so I was speaking pretty enthusiastically. He was listening intently, and then it happened - a perfectly formed droplet of spit flew out of my mouth and onto the man’s plate.  

I watched his eyes follow the spittle out of my mouth and onto the last two bites of his sandwich. We didn’t make eye contact for what felt like an eternity, and I wanted to hide my face in my hands and walk away. I knew I had to say something, but what: “Sorry I just spread my germs all over your lunch?"

It was the first time in the history of my waitress career (and possibly my entire life) that I was speechless. So what did I do?  I pretended I didn’t even notice. Bad choice. I could feel my face getting warm, and I knew I was turning the color of a ripe cherry. I walked away (more like awkwardly hustled), and when I got to the back line I was kicking myself.

“You idiot!” I thought. I overanalyzed the crap out of the situation, and came to the conclusion I should offer the guy a new sandwich. I kept my discomfort level in full swing as I returned to their table a few minutes later.   

“Sir, did you want me to get you a fresh sandwich?” I asked.

“Why?” he replied.

Okay, did he forget that he just watched me slobber on his food? Or was he just trying to play it cool and save me? Either way, I wish he would have just said yes.

“Uhh. No reason. Sorry. Never mind.”  

Real smooth. I couldn’t wait for them to leave, and I could tell it was a mutual feeling. Awkwaaaaard.  

A few weeks after that little incident, I put myself in another situation that was 31 flavors of uncomfortable…

 
I am 110% sure I am the worst frozen drink maker in the Grand Strand area, and possibly in the whole state. We don’t have a fancy Island Oasis where I work - we have one itty bitty blender I am constantly cursing at. So, when I had a 10-top of middle school-aged cheerleaders and they all wanted virgin daiquiris in the middle of lunch rush, I told them a little white lie.

“I’m so sorry girls, our blender is broken! How about Shirley Temples instead?”  

Their huffs and puffs were so loud I thought I was going to blow away. A few eye rolls later, they agreed to take me up on the Shirley Temples.  

When I delivered the drinks, the girls’ chaperone called my bluff.

“Isn’t that a daiquiri they have at the next table?” she asked, pointing at a freshly made drink.

“Oh… yeah, they probably got it before the blender went down.” I lied. I felt like a terrible person.

“No, actually, their waitress just brought it out.”

I knew this woman could see right through me.  How could I possibly explain that it would have taken me at least 15 minutes to fight with the stupid machine to make the girls decent drinks? I didn’t try to. I stuck with my awful story.

“Oh, GREAT!! She must have fixed it. I’ll go make your drinks right away!”

I smiled excitedly but I was dying a little inside. After all that, I still had to make the daiquiris. And sure enough, they complained about the wait for them.  

My list of flubs goes on and on. Like the time I joked with a table of guys I thought were pretty cool about my tips being “drug money,” and they left me a pamphlet about addiction. Or the time I asked a woman who wasn’t pregnant, but pleasantly plump, when she was due with her second child. And let’s not forget when the owner of the company I work for came in with his family, and I was so busy I forgot to put their order in. They waited almost an hour for their food.

The most epic fail I’ve ever had by far happened a few months ago. After an eight- top of diners left me next to nothing on a check that was well over $100, I lost my cool. I would never disrespect someone to their face, but after they left the restaurant, I ranted to a coworker.

The dining room was totally empty at the time, so I let my aggravation fly.

“I gave them great service, and this is how they thank me - leave the place filthy. If you can’t afford to tip, go to McDonalds! I am so tired of dealing with cheap people. I could just cry sometimes! I hate people like that!” You get the picture.  

Mid-rant, I heard the bathroom door open. Since every other employee was standing in front of me, I knew it was someone from the party that stiffed me. I ran like a track and field Olympian to the kitchen like the coward that I am.

The woman from the party had heard every word, and she wasn’t happy. She spoke to the other employees for a while, and I said a quiet goodbye to the restaurant, certain I would be fired.  

Surprisingly, my job was spared, but I felt horrible. That’s the last time I’ll do any venting at work, empty restaurant or not!

Sure, it’s easy for a server to get aggravated with a customer, but we have our moments, too!  Someone, somewhere, is probably writing a column just like this one about all of the crazy waitresses they have encountered.  

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