Wadda Mean It's Raining in The Meeting Room?

Don't you just love it when your day starts like this?

• You wake up refreshed after a good night's sleep
• The sun is shining
• The wife already walked the dog
• The kids are still sleeping
• The coffee came out perfectly
• There was no traffic during your drive to work
• You get to work and your desk wasn't hit by a tornado last night and everything is still where you left it

Sounds perfect right? WRONG...

Just then someone bellows over the radio, "It's raining in the meeting room"! "Hurry up, call Engineering"! Well there goes my perfect day.

Now you're racing to find every bucket, bus-tub, unused Lexan and garbage can, to catch the water racing out of the broken pipe from the room upstairs. Son of a b@>\#!

Now we're trying to move the setup for this group into the only other available room we have. Problem is, the group won't fit in that room. We're changing rounds into classroom tables just to squeeze them into the smaller space. It's like shoving 10 lbs of cow turds into a 5 lb bag! (hey Bulletholes, that one's for you!).

We try to dry the special notebook binders that the group contact spent 2 hours last night putting at each placesetting. We change the flipchart pads 'cause the're a mess. Towels come from everywhere to sop-up the water on the carpet. Not a good start to the morning after all.

I huddle with the sales chick (for once I like her 'cause she's the one that has to tell the meeting planner our water lines are a mess, not me). It's either she does that or gets wet and dirty like me. She picks to talk with the meeting planner because she would NEVER want to break a nail!

You can probably guess the rest of the story. We need to bend over backwards and do "service recovery" for this group. "Make sure everything else for the rest of the day is perfect" the F&B Director says. "Why didn't Engineering make sure everything else was perfect and maintain the building so crap like this doesn't happen" I said. Of course he gave me "the look".

Just another perfect day as a banquet manager...

I need a REAL job!

Next Post: Poll Results: Which is the better waiter?

Ever Run a Party For 500 Alpha Males?

Last but not least, guest blogger post #6 is from "Mike the Waiter".

Did you ever find yourself bartending a party station and looking out and realizing no matter how fast you go, there is never going to be an end to that line for the next 6 hours?

You are just screwed. You immediately throw 5 bucks at the BEST busboy–you know the one–speaks enough English to understand…“more forks, big plates, bring more bread and butter…” and is excited to be in America; but more important for tonight‘s purpose, understood when I said “make sure I don’t run out of ice for the next 6 hours…” It was Sommy Tankanitlert, the best busboy I have ever seen in the business. A man with no counterparts. I’d tell Sommy I needed a table for 6, knowing that the first guests were just leaving and he’d say… “bing ‘em in.” He never let me down.

But I digress, tonight the deputy superintendent of the Chicago Police Department was retiring. In attendance? 500 of the most alpha males, (even the ladies) whose domineering personalities were made even worse by alcohol. Everybody from d.e.a. to f.b.I. to a.t.f. to transit authority badges. We had locals…. We had staters …. and they weren’t interested in food … and they all had a hard day …and they all wanted drinks … NOW!

A little background is in order here. Now what I’m about to say, you may consider conjecture, or satire, or literary license or whatever you need to consider it so I don’t get sued or shot. Anyway, all day long the service elevator has all these different organizations delivering case after case of hard liquor, beer, wine…. Case after case of steaks & fishes … now I don’t question how these items of the party were acquired but I do know with certainty that no invoices went through that liquor license … enough said.

Somehow my bar ends up about 10 yards away, and in a clear line of site of the chosen roost of the managers about 4 layers above me in authority. The General Manager is hawking me all night long.

This is where it gets a little weird. In theory, each of these guests had 2 purple tickets, each good for a cocktail. The nuts in charge were trying to limit this crowd to 2 drinks!!! And me, the bartender was supposed to be their muscle. Some nerve…And they had brought in their own booze!!!

Geeze… these guys had side arms and automatic weapons!

The party was moving along fine for about 30 minutes… and then everybody started running out of purple tickets … and then things started to get really, really nasty. “What do you mean I can’t have another drink” … “you know I had to handcuff a suspect to my bumper just this afternoon” “you know, I use hollow points so they won’t go through a wall” … I was o.k. with all of that … I can be a stubborn jerk when necessary …And deep down inside I gotta admit there was a certain, sweet satisfaction being that way with about every third one in line who said “Do you know who I am?” That’s the one that sets me off… My beady little mind was now racing … “No…and I don’t much care… the law is the law”.

“But ever try to be a stubborn jerk to a group that practices that same attribute every day??? It ain’t easy, I wasn’t being paid enough, and when one of them started threatening my family jewels… PURPLE TICKETS JUST DIDN’T MEAN A THING TO ME ANYMORE.

So I just go to town pumping out cocktails, not giving two hoots about collecting purple tickets. This creates a very weird dynamic in a room where there are some 30 bars set up. Pretty soon all the other bars have 3 or 4 people in line, and they are pouring in a slow, casual manner, you know who that bartender is … the one who didn’t speak enough English to get the busboy job…and meanwhile I’m just flyin’… and Sommy keeps dumping ice bucket after ice bucket in my bin… The general manager himself is running for more bottles of whiskey for me and my bar has about 3 or 4 dozen stacked up in line, waiting for drinks.

Now remember, this General Manager has been hawking me all night. And he’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever worked for. He had served the pope, U.S. Senators, his wife worked for the Governor…we served a party for the 50 wives of the fifty governors, but I digress….. This is a guy who knew EXACTLY what was going on… and when he asked me to stay late and chat with him, I figured I was toast.

Now here we are, the party is over, the staff is all gone, there’s one light left on in this huge business, but instead of giving me the bad news, he brings me a double shot of the best whiskey in the house … no ice…

3 hours later, we are walking out together, him the General Manager and me the new Banquet Manager with a huge salary increase, bumped up about 3 layers in a union property, remotely owned by the Kennedy family. That night really went from ying to yang for me and my rapid rise offended quite a number of those more deserving than I… but it worked out pretty well for me for the next couple of years…

Post submitted by Mike the Waiter

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Mike's bartender story is great. I especially like how he eventually became a banquet manager...sounds sorta like how I got into this crazy business. But that's a story for another day.

Please visit Mike's blog and support the people that support THIS blog.

Next Post: Wadda Mean It's Raining in the Meeting Room?

Friday Night at Sports Bar

Guest blogger post #5, submitted by Lone Waitress
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Friday night at Sports Bar was hectic. By 9 pm I was ready to pull out my hair.

As part of my regular shift I work a double every Friday. This means I work from 11 am to 2 am. I am lucky if I get a break as there is no other waitress. Usually between 2 and 4 I get to leave for 30 minutes to run home and let my poor dog out. 15 hours is too long to go without a potty break!

This Friday I got hit around 6:30.
My group of 6 hillbillies, who had been there since 2:00, asked to close out their $175 tab. As I am adding gratuity at the POS, 3 tables walk in and seat themselves in the dining room, walking right past me and the "Please Wait to be Seated" sign.

I sigh heavily and bring them menus and take their drink orders. I enter the orders into the POS and finish up with the hillbillies' tab. I drop the check and notice that my drink tickets are still on the bar printer as the bartender is chit chatting with her regulars. I pop behind the bar, fill the drink orders, and rush out to deliver them. While doing all this I receive 4 more self-seated tables in the dining room and on the patio. Telling each that I will return with menus I power walk to the hillbillies and grab their tab. They are paying with a credit card so I have to spend a minute at the POS and credit card machine closing out the check.

Our system has no gratuity button so we add something like 16.2% gratuity to checks and after it taxes that amount it ends up being the proper 18%. I remove the gratuity from the check, close it out on the POS, run the credit card, and write in the grat amount on the cc receipt. 2 more table walk in. This time I am able to at least hand them menus before they walk past me.

Before I drop off the cc receipt I bring menus to my previous tables and grab their drink orders. I enter the orders into the POS and drop off the receipt. The next 2 hours ran in much the same way. I sprinted around the restaurant, filled my own drink orders, and tried desperately to find my manager for help. After an hour he found me.

"The table by the bathroom walked out because you didn't serve them. I went outside and got them to come back in. We bought their first round but I need you to go over there right away and apologize. Take good care of them. They waited for you for over 5 minutes."

"I will take good care of them, but I have to tell you, I saw them walk in and it couldn't have been more than 3 minutes." I told him as I flew behind the bar to fill the drink orders I was waiting for. My manager then walks away to continue talking to customers.

Most people sitting at a table by the bar waiting for service will get off their butts and walk to the bar. It was literally 3 steps from the table they chose. Most people would ask the bartender for a drink or at least ask if there was a server that could come over. These people chose to leave instead. I smelled high maintenance.

I eyed the table as I made drinks for the tables that had waited patiently until I could get to them. Even though I’m slammed it isn’t taking me more than 4 minutes to get to a new table. The fact that the tables on the bar side are self seat and hidden from my immediate view makes it hard to keep track of when I get a new table, but I scan the area each time I go behind the bar.

This couple is studying the menu and sipping their free bottles of domestic beer so I decide I have a minute before I need to approach them. I drop off the drinks I have been making and manage to make it back to the other side without being asked for anything else. I do a quick check of my other tables by the bar before heading to the Walkers. I plan on taking my time at their table.

I greet them but do not apologize for what happened earlier. I don’t feel I need to and I believe that it is best to play it like nothing happened. They have already been apologized to by my manager and the bartender, who brought them their free round, and if I join in it might seem like overkill. I put on my best server smile as I take their order and answer all their questions. They want an app so I make a mental note to watch my timing of their meal. I jog to the POS and enter their app before jumping back into the fray.

After running a few drinks and burgers I see an order of wings alone in the window. Thinking that this is the app for the Walkers, I run it out with all the extras they might need; plates, napkins, ketchup and mustard for the rest of their order. I head back to the POS to order their burgers when I see more food in the pass through; a complete order for a table outside minus the wings. I took the wings to the wrong table. No big deal, I tell myself. The table the wings should have gone to ordered a salad, fries, and a sandwich. Hopefully they’re not in a hurry.

I grab the plates and run them out to the table on the patio.

“Here you go guys. The wings should be just a few more minutes. Can I get anything else for you right now?”

“No, we’re OK.” One of the guys replies.

I breathe a sigh of relief internally and head back inside. I get the wings to the guys outside 5 minutes later. The burgers for the Walkers’ table come out perfect and the couple leaves happy. I run for another hour before the tables start clearing out all at once. The rest of the night is painfully slow and at the end of my shift I find that I have tripled my usual income for a Friday night. Worth it, yes, but I hope I never see a night like this again, at least not with the same manager on duty.

This post submitted by Lone Waitress

A story from the trenches - you waitress work too hard! Thanks for your post.

Please visit her blog and support the people that support THIS blog.

Whadda Mean They're Not Using All The Break-out Rooms?

Don't you hate it when you put on extra staff, especially on the over-night shift, to get every room in the hotel reset for the next day - then in the morning they tell you, "Oh, we really won't be needing the break-out rooms after all". What???

We stayed here 'till 2:00am resetting these friggin' rooms and now they don't need them. Kiss my ASS !!!

I need a REAL job!

You Got an Invitation…That Doesn’t Make You “King of the World”

Our 4th Guest Blogger post is submitted by Angela, a senior banquet manager from Maryland. She hits the ball right out of the park with this post. Thanks Angela.

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You’ve met that guy……

The father-of-the-bride who walks around reminding everyone that he is the father-of-the-bride; commenting on “the sales contract this”, and “the sales contract that”, and the “event manager said I could do this”. He’s the one who isn’t paying the bill…the groom is.

The “friend of the family” who isn’t satisfied with the wine choice and demands you get 20 cases of “something better” before 6pm tonight. Of course, he happens to mention this at 1pm and it’s a Saturday.

The guy who yells because there are not enough seats at his table for his “uninvited” guest and demands a seat be added. The empty seat across the table is just not good enough.

The guy who insists he take three meals home with him. He DID pay for an entire table, and he should get the meals that his absent guests aren’t eating. He doesn’t understand why you won’t send food home with him that has been sitting in a hotbox for four hours. He doesn’t understand at all.

The guy who “forgot” to RSVP and now has to sit with people he doesn’t know. He thinks he should get drinks on the house for the inconvenience.

The guy who struts down the back hallway while service is going on because “he knows the contact.”

The guy who insists on eating chicken when the bride and groom only ordered steak and fish. He doesn’t understand why his food comes out after everyone else. Hotels should have pre-cooked chicken sauced and plated lying around, waiting just for him!

The guy who feels the need to tell you how disappointed the contact is in the service, food, and drinks…but the contact doesn’t know who you are, sir.

The guy who finds it ludicrous that you would be closing the bars six hours after they opened.

• He’s the same guy that “offers” to keep the bar open with his own credit card.
• The same guy you escort out of the ballroom only 15 minutes later because he is now threatening your job and can’t stand up.
• The same guy who tells you that you are nothing as he is backing his way out of the building.
• The same guy who ends up with a DUI because you might or might not have reported his license plate number to the police who stopped by to visit.

You’ve met him. The guy who got an invitation and became “King of the World.”

Next Post: Friday Night at Sports Bar

A Cruise Ship Date That Went Awry

Our 3rd Guest Blogger post is submitted by Waiter Extraordinaire ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in 1994 when I was working on a cruise ship I had an experience that I will never forget. Being a waiter on a ship the only things you think about is making money, partying, and trying to pick up girls.

The contract on the ship was for a 6 month duration then you got a couple of months off to recoup. I was working on this ship of 114 passengers and most of the passengers were like 50 years old and up so the action was always with the girls that worked on the ship. Unfortunately though that action was usually quickly gobbled up by the Italian officers so the few girls that were left were slim pickings.

Well there was this one girl that I had a big crush on but the barrier that faced me was she was going out with the Captain. Word of advice; don't mess around with the Captain's squeeze! Now the thing was everyone knew I liked her including herself and the Captain, and although I got along with the Captain on previous contracts when I did serve his table in the dining room there was an air of discomfort to say the least.

But alas! The Captain was transferred to another ship and had to leave his honey to the waiting waiter keen on taking over where he left off. We had about a month left on our contracts so I had to move fast. After all, if anything happened we would be off the ship before he would even find out about it.

So we got to talking and Sorrento Italy was coming up and with all their romantic restaurants I thought what a great idea it would be to go out for lunch. The ship arrived, and we took the tender ashore for our lunch together. It was great and I felt like I was making a breakthrough when it came time to take the last tender back. We thought the last tender was at 5:30.

But oh no the last tender was at 5:00! We located the port agent and he confirmed what we found out. The ship was in the distance and we could see it starting up its engines by the puff of smoke from one of the funnels.

Now here is what went through my mind for a moment, here I am stuck in Sorrento with this girl that I like. What could possibly be better than that! I quickly came to my senses though as I did like my job on the ship too much to be fired for missing it. But what was real apparent is the girl I was with didn't like the idea of missing the ship at all as not only would she be fired, but her boyfriend Captain on the other ship would find out and that would not be good for her. In fact she was really panicking and starting to cry.

So the ship was now off to Taormina without us or so we thought. The ship did not do a good job of checking the crew board to make sure all the staff was on either. Luckily, the port agent managed on his radio transmitter to get the ship's captain and his crackling voice to notify him of our absence.

By water taxi we were transported back to the ship with a big smile on my face and a buried head and tears from the girl I coveted. You could imagine the passengers all around the outside decks laughing and clapping on our arrival. We climbed the ladder up and were greeted by the Hotel Manager who escorted the both of us to the Bridge where the Captain was waiting to give us a lecture. He did and we were sent back to our cabins to get ready for work.

I figured that is it I will be disembarking the next port. As for her our lunch was news around the ship so she was more worried about damage control. Pleading do not fire me or this cannot leave the ship or my boyfriend Captain will find out as news travels fast.

Any other person for missing the ship would have been sent home immediately but we got away with this one.

I pretty much got off without so much as a warning. The girl from what I heard was seen leaving the Captain's and Hotel Manager's quarters' late at night or early morning. Unfortunately for her , I think she was blackmailed although I wouldn't know as she didn't speak to me the last two weeks I was on the ship. So much for her!

Although I honestly felt bad about missing the tender and her uncomfortable situation afterwards, I actually did get my way a couple of years later when another girl on the ship was chased after by the same Captain who didn't send me packing. I won her heart and we have been married for 12 years!

So if at first you don't succeed, try, try, again!

Submitted by Waiter Extraordinaire

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Sometimes the hero DOES get the girl.

Please visit Waiter Extraordinaire's blog and support the people that support THIS blog.

Next Post: You Got an Invitation, That Doesn't Make You "King of the World"

Another Starbucks Story - They SUCK!

STARBUCKS was blasted by environmental experts last night after The Sun discovered it pours millions of litres of precious water down the drain at its coffee shops.

The giant coffee chain has a policy of keeping a tap running non-stop at all its 10,000 outlets worldwide, wasting 23.4 MILLION litres a day.

That would provide enough daily water for the entire two million-strong population of drought-hit Namibia in Africa or fill an Olympic pool every 83 minutes.

Every Starbucks branch has a cold tap behind the counter providing water for a sink called a “dipper well”, used for washing spoons and utensils. Staff are banned from turning the water off under bizarre health and safety rules — bosses claim a constant flow stops germs breeding in the taps.

Starbucks has built up a massive chain, popular with coffee drinkers from Hollywood stars to builders, and proudly boasts of its work for the environment. But water companies accused the firm of HARMING the environment by frittering away a vital natural resource.

And the claim that running taps are needed for hygiene reasons was dismissed by experts as “nonsense”. Starbucks has 698 branches in Britain, each open for 13 hours a day.

Even a slow flowing tap spurts out at least three litres of water a minute, meaning UK Starbucks are wasting an estimated 1.63 MILLION litres a day.

That is the daily water requirement for a town the size of Matlock, Derbyshire. And water shortage is seen as one of the major problems facing the world. A single Starbucks tap left running for just over three minutes wastes the amount of water one African needs to survive for a day in drought conditions.

The Sun investigated after a Starbucks executive revealed the policy in a letter to a couple who complained about a tap left running at their local branch.

Lisa Woolfe, 39, of Cuffley, Herts, said: “I noticed a small sink behind the counter had its tap running. The assistant said the store was told to keep it running as it cleaned the pipes.

“I could not believe it but when we contacted head office, they confirmed that the taps were left on and the water was not recycled. “It is an absolutely astonishing waste of water, especially for a company which prides itself on its green credentials.”

Our undercover team checked Starbucks outlets across the UK and around the world and found some baffled staff did not use the running tap and did not even know what it was for.

The Sun Newspaper - October 6, 2008 Link to original story.

"I've said my piece about Starbucks over the last few months. This is just another reason to throw the bums out!" By the way, how many of you work in a banquet hall or restaurant kitchen that has a faucet that's been dripping for weeks...don't you think it's time to get it fixed?

Next Post: A Cruise Ship Date That Went Awry

Quick, Take My Poll...

As a follow-up to one of my earliest posts, "Which is the better waiter - banquet waiters or restaurant waiters", I'm running a poll until December 1st to get my readers opinions. Place your vote is the section on the lower left and I'll post the results next month. To see my original post & get my take on this click here.

If The Banquet Manager Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy

This 2nd guest post is from Bullethole.
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“Mike, wake your ass up”
“What time is it”
“Six A.M. brother man, time to rock the house".

Mike was the Café Sous Chef and he came in every morning about 3:30 to start breakfast. Mike was a good guy, but when I would come in at 6:00, some days he would be on the bench in the dressing room, balanced somehow on a 6” wide wooden plank. Sound asleep. He would be snorin’ like a bigdog, with this huge smile on his face. Mike liked to party.

I got dressed and headed upstairs. I was the Garde-Manger and the 1000 room hotel had been insanely busy the last 6 months. Chef kept sayin’ stuff like “After this week the bottom falls out”. Not today, hell, not this week.

I was starting to think the Chef was just stringin’ us along and we were, in fact, confined to being busy as snot for the rest of our sorry lives. When I would tell people that I worked 85 hours last week, and that I would be having a 14 hour day today, they would nod and say something like ‘Yeah, me too” and expect that I didn’t believe them just like they didn’t believe me. But hey, that’s Foodservice man, and right now there was a deadline to meet.

At 7:30 there was a Breakfast for 300 people and I had fruit mirrors to be placed on the buffet. Chief Steward would bring a Queen Mary, we’d load it up and upstairs we would go, along with granola and bowls of yogurt, jelly’s and butter and we’d take danish from pastry as well. Me and my four ladies of the cold food were finishing up the mirrors when I heard the ruckus. It was Bill, the Banquet Manager and he was over by the cafeteria line.

“Where are my fruit trays?” Bill was asking a busboy.
‘Where are my fruit trays” Bill was asking a line cook.
‘Where are my fruit trays” Bill was asking the potwasher.

Bill Bobbers was always dressed to the tens. He had a handkerchief that matched his tie, and just the right amount of cuff showing out of the sleeves of his Gucci. Hell, I wouldn’t know a Gucci from a Mens Wearhouse, but Bill always looked like his momma dressed him. He had two banquet waiters with him, and he wore them like bodyguards.

Bill had not been with us long, just several months, and he had seemed fairly capable. He had transferred from Jersey, or Boston, or Buffalo or somewhere. I had not had to deal with him much, but I could sense he and I were about to go ‘round.

“Over here, Billbo, I’ve got em” and motioned to him. I had taken to calling him Billbo, but I don’t think I‘d let him in on it yet. “What did you call me?” He asked. “Umm, Billbo” and I gave him my best smile. He frowned.

‘I need those trays now” he barked.
“Well, I’m almost ready to send ‘em up, Tony (The Steward) should be here in a minute”. “ But I need em now” and he turned to the main kitchen and announced “I need a Sous-Chef over here”

I could tell Bill was stressed and that probably I hadn’t helped with my pet name, but now I was pissed. “Damm you Billy Bobbers, what do I look like …Chopped Liver?”

I pointed to my embroidered "Garde Manger/Sous Chef" insignia that I had given blood, sweat and tears for.

He turned and glared at me. We shouted, we cursed, we were two real idiots in the cold food area and we were about to get nose to nose when Tony pulled up with his Queen Mary.

“See Billbo, just chill out, its all happen’ just like Jaheezus the Christ planned” I said. And you know that didn’t help any. From what I recall, this set the tone for everyone in the hotel that day.

At about 2:00 P.M., the memo came from the F&B Director that there was to be a meeting at 3:00 and it listed about 12 people to be there, including Mike, Billbo and I.

Seated in a circle, we were going to clear the air as directed by the F&B Director, Kurt, who sat two seats down from me. ‘I want us to go around the circle, and everyone just go ahead and say who they have a problem with and why. Now, I had worked with Kurt for two years and it did not surprise me when he said...

‘Bulletholes, you go first”…because he knew that I will speak right up.

I glanced around the room. I knew that I had to try to play this right or risk looking like as big a jerk as I can sometimes truly be. Or worse.

As this was going through my mind, I noticed Mike, my Sous Chef buddy, was just about to fall asleep. Then it hit me. “Mike!” Like most kitchen people I have a big voice, that is too say, I talk too loud. Mike jumped and I continued as per instructions.

“Mike, I know you come in at 3:00 in the morning and the odds are good you didn’t get to bed last night, but when I find you asleep in the locker room it just pisses me off. Try to stay F’n awake at work will ya?” Mike just grinned at me.

And I continued around the room. If I didn’t have a problem with a particular person I just made one up because there was no way in hell anyone was going to claim I was cryin’ about Bill “Bilbo” Bobbers.

And when I got to Billbo I said:.
“Bill, I don’t know what you’re problem is …maybe its just that you are a Yankee…all I know is when you open your mouth, you could say "Good Mornin” and it would still piss me off. But I’ve never once heard you say “good anything” to anybody. "

I looked at Kurt and he seemed to give me a nod of approval.

Well everyone else went around said whatever, including Mike who slammed me pretty good on…who knows what…but by the end we were all ready to get the hell out of that room.

You know, sometimes us Southern folks, we can get away with saying some ugly things without sounding too ugly. I never gave anyone a nickname without clearing it with them again. But the Moral of this story, if there is one I would say is:

“If you are going to have a problem with someone, you may as well have a problem with everyone”. But there’s an even better version of that, and it fits for lot of stuff…Kurt taught me this:

"If you think you are not part of the problem, you are part of the problem"

Posted by: Bulletholes in the Mailbox

Nice to have a chef's perspective for a change, thanks Bullethole!

Please visit his blog and support the people that support THIS blog...

Next Post: Another Starbucks Story...They SUCK!

Important Health Advice For Women

Do you have feelings of inadequacy? Do you suffer from shyness? Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Chardonnay.

Chardonnay is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions. Chardonnay can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.

You will notice the benefits of Chardonnay almost immediately and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live. Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past and you will discover many talents you never knew you had.

Stop hiding and start living, with Chardonnay. Chardonnay may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Chardonnay. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

WARNINGS:

The consumption of Chardonnay may:

• make you think you are whispering when you are not.
• may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them.
• may cause you to think you can sing.
• may lead you to believe that ex-lovers are really dying for you to telephone them at four in the morning.
• may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.
• may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter, faster and better looking than most people...especially you banquet managers.
  

...Now just imagine what you could achieve with a good dry red or a nice pinot!

Next Post: If The Banquet Manager Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy

Relates Stories:

• Eat This Not That
  

Guest Blogger Month is Here!

As promised...

I've had a fantastic response to my request for anyone in the business that wants to vent about waiters, tell a funny hospitality story or just get their frustrations off their chest. For the rest of November, I'll post some of the best stories that were submitted. I hope you like them.
P.S. It's not too late to submit your great story...

The 1st guest post is from Don from "Get a Room"
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Chicken and Wishes

Long before I found my way into the hotel industry, I did some time in the restaurant business. In fact, the first place I worked was a small, family-owned restaurant in the tiny town I grew up in back in West Virginia. The restaurant was considered the "nice" place to eat, complete with cloth napkins, smoked mirrors, gold and black velvet wallpaper, and stemmed glassware. Usually, when locals were looking for a nice evening out, they would choose this restaurant.

By the time I was 16, I had worked my way up from dishwasher, to busboy, to waiter. At 17, I was one of only two people waiting tables in this fancy room. One particular even from that year stands out as one of the most unusual nights I'd ever had working as a waiter.

We had reserved a ten-top for a woman's 70th birthday party, and had the table ready for the group when they arrived. I generally hated waiting on this particular table, not because of the people sitting at it, but because of the way the table backed into a wall. It was always a struggle to efficiently serve the four customers seated in the chairs backed against the wall, so I was always forced to try to improvise by reaching either over the table and risking setting my shirt sleeves on fire, or attempting to squeeze in behind the chairs to properly serve their entrees.

I took their orders, carried their drinks, delivered appetizers, salads and breads--all without incident. When it came time to serve the main course, I approached the 70 year-old birthday girl, who was seated at the head of the table (which was NOT one of the seats backed against the wall), and as the plate passed in front of her, the broiled half of a chicken that she ordered rolled off the plate, bounced onto the table, and continued rolling until it landed squarely in her lap.

I swear I heard it make a "splat" sound.

I could have died. I looked stood there frozen for a second while she looked at me, then my hand, then her lap, then back up at me.

I always had a towel with me, so quickly handed it to her so she could begin blotting while I ran to have her dinner replaced. Before I could finish handing her the towel, she looked at me, shook her head, and said, "No. You clean it up."

And she wasn't kidding. With her family and friends watching, I had to hoist the bird from her lap, and begin wiping the greasy mess off of the legs of her pants. I tried to move quickly, but she was old and the mess was huge so I wound up having to take a good few minutes to mop her up. The room was dimly lit, so I had to get pretty close to her to see what I was doing, but I blotted her pants and offered to pay for any additional cleaning they might require. Fortunately, the pants she was wearing were black, so the stain wouldn't be too noticeable. In the meantime, the other server had jumped in to serve the other entrees while this woman's dinner was being plated up.

This was probably the most embarrassing situation I'd ever had in the years that I waited tables. As if the clean-up task itself wasn't embarrassing enough, when I delivered her birthday cake to her table she insisted that someone else blow out the candle.

When one of her guests asked her why she didn't want to blow the candle out, she simply said "Don't need to. I just had a young man's hands all over me. I got my wish!"

Don Meador
"Get A Room!"
http://getahotelroom.blogspot.com

Great post Don, thanks.
Please visit Don's blog and support the people that support THIS blog!

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