Here's A Serve On Serving You, Surry Hills

So today after this lecture I will walk into a small yet popular café in Surry Hills, collect my pay and then simultaneously quit my job – a job I had for exactly 48 hours and 22 minutes.

From the moment I started my first shift I hated it, but for a bit of extra cash and an experience worth writing about I decided to stick it out for the two shifts I had been allocated.

I have ample experience in the hospitality industry, mostly working in bars and nightclubs but nothing and I mean nothing could have prepared me for this. When I saw the sign in the window that read, “Experienced waitress needed” I thought this café would be a cruisy place to work. Not only is it a five-minute walk from The Dirthouse but the hours were reasonable and I’d always loved their corn fritters.

Sure, I’d never worked in a café before but I thought hey, how hard could it be?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

*Side note

I hadn’t worked in any industry since I quit my job in PR three months ago, so I’m not going to lie, I think I might have developed a princess complex. Who wouldn’t after spending three months lying the sun, dating a minor celebrity and spending every other waking moment writing filth and posting it on the internet?

Anyway, my first shock came in the form of a man named Ross. Ross was in his late 60s, wore an incredibly outdated suit and walked with a cane which made a violent clunking noise as he entered the café and stomped up the stairs to a table set for four. As I approached him with a glass of water and a breakfast menu (protocol) he looked up from his morning paper in disgust.

“Who are you?” he sneered.

-       who the are you mate?

I held back my shock and told him my name along with the specials, he cut me off half way.

“I’ll have what I have everyday but I suppose you don’t know what that is…two large slices of soy linseed, lightly toasted with raspberry jam and vegemite, a teapot with hot water with four medium slices of lemon and a ramekin of honey on the side and you can take back that glass of water.”

-       I remembered four slices of lemon, that was it.

The rest of the shift was a parade of the same bullshit:

·      Mr why didn’t you automatically order me a long black?

·      Mrs can you please refill my dogs bowl with room temperature water

·      Miss I’ll have the beef burger without tomato, cheese, pickles and bun

·      Ms this double chocolate ice cream riddled thick shake doesn’t taste like its made with skim milk

And then when I thought it couldn’t get any worse came ‘my bacon isn’t crispy enough’ man with the monobrow.

Let me explain, after the bacon was taken back to the kitchen not once but twice I was told by Mr Monobrow that I had not only ruined his breakfast but his day. I wanted to cry but most of all I wanted to ask him why, why Mr Monobrow must you be such a precious, inconsiderate twat? 

My second shift being a Saturday was undoubtedly worse, I got into a fight with the chef and was moments away from ripping off my apron and walking out on this horrible experience, flipping the bird up at Ross on my way out.

But I didn’t, instead I held my tongue, gritted my teeth together and finished the shift toilet cleaning and all. I got home at 5pm and Lady B was in the bathroom curling her hair – I poured myself a glass of wine and collapsed on the couch.

I told Bernie everything I just told you and she just laughed. Believe it or not Lady B was once the manager of Coffee Club before she moved to the big smoke and started working in media. None of what I said about bacon man and even Ross remotely surprised her.

The reality is that lady B like millions of other servers out there have had to deal with this shit every day of their lives. The Ross’s and the so called bacon coinsures are just part of the package along with routine plate scraping and toilet cleaning.

The truth is I’m not afraid of hard work but I do have a massive problem with people who treat other people like shit. Belittling someone because they don’t know your breakfast order is not ok and yeah you may have just finished work for the week but when you sit down at a café for breakfast on a Saturday morning don’t forget that the person you’re rolling your eyes at for not remembering to put two equals on the side of your coffee instead of one is just trying to get through their working day too.

 I really have a new found appreciation for servers particularly those who work at cafés in upmarket areas. As for me, well I think I will continue to work in bars at least until I can start to make a living from doing what I really love and that is ranting about my life to you fine bunch of people.

Before I bid you a good weekend remember – if you want your bacon crispy ask for it crispy, ask for it crispy please or better yet just stay home and make it your fucking self ;)

The end.