Last night, taking tables. A 3 table section. 2 deuces and 1 four top.
There was no warning, and so I'm only rudimentarily prepared. There's still much to learn.
First table, a deuce. Muddle through it, and while "waiting" polish glasses behind the bar.
Now - here - this place - it's drenched in anxiety. No matter what you do, to the letter, following someone else's instructions, whatever transpires - it will not be good enough. Someone will come along and advise you're doing it wrong, could do it better, do it this way, and as every server/bartender/sommelier has their own particular way of doing things you'd best to find the happy medium...
Folding napkins - 1/4 inch more this way, no, wrong, 1/4 inch more that way - no, try it this way...
Glasses go here...no, they'll get bumped, put them here...
Pour the wine - no, a millimeter too much, leave it - no - top it up - no - leave it. They're big glasses, a bottle poured into one would still leave a 1 inch rim, I'm having problems with overpouring,...
...and so on and so forth. A waiter is getting shouted at by the manager - 2 bottles of white, 2 bottles of red, for a party of 19, not even 2.5 oz per guest, he didn't gauge the pour correctly, ran out of the red before it could go around the table - he's in big shit.
...The trick is to look calm, unflustered, take every bitchy-snide-remark in stride, don't take it personally, fine-dining, after all, and adjust your performance to suit whoever is in the room at the moment.
My table eats - simply, pays - $300 bill, leaves.
It was one of the first tables sat, now, a 3 hour window where I polish other glasses, attempt to help out - attempt, because many servers don't want the help, are afraid you'll fuck it up, I get that - been there - and so, do what you can, stay out of the way...
Eventually, 9:30, I get 2 more tables, a deuce, a four top. The deuce, another $300 spent - and the four top - appetizers only, bottle of wine, $800 bill. The guest gets the bill, looks - ?? - shocked, he had no hand in the ordering, probably didn't know what he was in for when he asked for the bill...
Try to keep busy - only 2 tables after all - but I'm told, repeatedly - not to help others, watch my own section - one person ran out of wine, and I wasn't there to top it up, my bad,...
And so it goes, everyone trying to look calm, everyone so tightly wound up that their ass is puckering in the back of their throat.
I've never had a job where I was expected simply to be "on-hand" - "on-call", "just in case", and their definition of fine dining could benefit a great deal from a little more cooperation, nonetheless everyone's too wound up, engrossed in their own thing, and so it goes - the place is relaxed for the customers, living terror for half the staff, and I have yet to see a proper paycheck, tip-out, probably not until January, but - if I can make it until then - maybe, just maybe, given the fullness of time, I'll be able to get another jeep and get back on the road...