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y0lk #124: "Can I help j00? (or, Foodservice Sucks)" - by meenk

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        I hostess at a gourmet kosher vegetarian restaurant. Basically, that

means I show jews and picky vegetarians to tables, roll silverware into

napkins, and take and prepare take out orders. Doesn't seem like a bad job,

and it isn't; on very slow days. However, being the only completely

kosher/vegetarian place in the area, really slow days are rare.



        I get in to work just after the lunch rush. This means I have about

an hour to stock the drink cooler, roll enough silverware for the dinner

rush, put the night's special on the chalkboard, and (if anyone worth talking

to is working) shoot the shit with my co-workers. Occasionally people come in

during this time and require my attention. In fact, this is the best time to

come in since, A.) we aren't busy, and B.) meenk is still in a good mood.



        Usually, just as I finish with these tasks, someone calls asking for

me to read the menu to them. As long as I am not busy, I don't mind this at

all. They usually just hang up. This is also the prime time for calls to the

other staff. It seems that the friends and relatives of most of my co-workers

have speech impediments. Oh yeah, can't forget the people who call needing to

know exactly how certain things were dubbed kosher, whether something is

parve, and exactly how many rabbis it takes to screw in a lightbulb.



        About this time families start to come in. On average, these families

consist of one or two adults, and about four children. As hostess it is my

duty to seat these people as far from anyone else as I can. Of course, this

always proves to be an exercise in futility because they require a large

table. Our restaurant has three tables which can accomodate a party of six,

without turning the joint into a Boxyboy (old sega game, push yellow boxes

through a maze onto red squares) round. These large tables are as far from

eachother as possible. The idea seems nifty in an empty restaurant, but once

you have three families, with at least four children each, the place turns

into a circus. Not only is EVERY corner of the restaurant saturated with the

screeches of children, but because of the tightly knit jewish community, they

all know eachother. Right next to the hostess station (my little sanctuary)

is where these twelve children choose to converge. In a really sick way, I am

thankful that this is also the center of the restaurant. Misery loves

company. The parents of these children encourage this. The Atlanta Jewish

community is incredibly social.



        Of course, this is where the picky vegetarians come in. They usually

come in alone or in pairs. I believe this is because their diet causes a

chemical imbalance in their brains making them loathe children. Of course,

_I_ am the one that gets the glares when these children are playing tag in

the restaurant. I would be willing to babysit for a 100% raise. Until then,

everyone else in the restaurant can rot. I have suspicions that these are the

same people that call and ask me to read them the menu. I am glad I am not

their server.



        There is an old man that comes in every week. The first time he saw

me he said, "Do you have take out?" to which I replied, "Yes, sir!" He then

said, "Can I take you out?" Being that I am an IRC girl, and not even one of

the charming ones, I just stared at him. He asked me to seat him, then asked

me to join him. Two blank stares in a row. This guy was great at making me

feel socially awkward. Every week he has a conversation, a single

conversation, with everyone within earshot. I hear he tips really well.



        By the end of the night I usually know 3 new things: 1.) what

happened on this week's Dawson's Creek, 2.) too much about big business in

Israel, and 3.) unsolicited information about my boss. He claims to be

Wiccan. He also claims I am Pagan. Both little tidbits of information I was

not aware of. He is a master of having a two-way conversation with people who

don't respond.



        I like Jews.