Tales from the Tables
A Wicked Funny Look from the Waiter's Side of the Tables
Nonfiction, Entertainment, Humour & Comedy, General Humour
| Author: | D L Tracey | ISBN: | 9781491856888 |
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse | Publication: | March 17, 2014 |
| Imprint: | AuthorHouse | Language: | English |
| Author: | D L Tracey |
| ISBN: | 9781491856888 |
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication: | March 17, 2014 |
| Imprint: | AuthorHouse |
| Language: | English |
The hectic, sad, ever so funny, you have to be kidding me life of a waiter and the day-to-day life of survival in the restaurant industry. Learn how to eat free and truly understand what the wait staff is thinking as they approach your table. Wait staff are a lot like first responders. We have to be at the tables no matter what is happening in our lives or even on the planet due to, as I like to call it, the Youre kidding me, right? factor. Even in the midst of a global cataclysm, I do not even bother calling work to see if I need to go in today, as I know the answer is always going to be yes. It can be raining bricks and fireballs, deadly hoards of the living dead can be running the streets, killing at will. A nuclear holocaust of biblical proportions can be imminently poised to strike my city, and still I need to show up, uniform and all. Why, you ask me? Because some wicked stupid idiot and his family will show at the tables up to eat.
The hectic, sad, ever so funny, you have to be kidding me life of a waiter and the day-to-day life of survival in the restaurant industry. Learn how to eat free and truly understand what the wait staff is thinking as they approach your table. Wait staff are a lot like first responders. We have to be at the tables no matter what is happening in our lives or even on the planet due to, as I like to call it, the Youre kidding me, right? factor. Even in the midst of a global cataclysm, I do not even bother calling work to see if I need to go in today, as I know the answer is always going to be yes. It can be raining bricks and fireballs, deadly hoards of the living dead can be running the streets, killing at will. A nuclear holocaust of biblical proportions can be imminently poised to strike my city, and still I need to show up, uniform and all. Why, you ask me? Because some wicked stupid idiot and his family will show at the tables up to eat.
