Those horror tables

Though last night wasn't a particularly busy night by anyone's standards I clocked off half an hour later than I was meant to with a quarter of the tips I normally earn. Why is this? Because I had a horror table.

Not a table from hell, mind, a "horror table". These guys were actually pretty nice (pretty strange as well) but everything that could go wrong... did go wrong and I don't think they'll be returning any time soon.

They all ordered steak and I think between the eight of them, they covered six different kinds of steaks and temperatures with complicated choices for the side dishes and add-on sauces. So I figured that unless god was concentrating particularly on making my life run smoothly- then something was going to go wrong even if I sent the orders to the kitchen correctly.

Issue #1

Hair in the marinara sauce on the garlic bread. It was almost funny to the table. I didn't deliver the garlic bread nor was I there when they complained, nor was I there when the complaint was dealt with, so it obviously didn't have much to do with me. But a hair in your food is an age-old embarrasment for a restaurant to suffer, so it wasn't the best start.

Issue #2

As I was collecting empty glasses from the table, I put an empty glass into a glass of coke that was perhaps more full than I thought. Hence, coke spilled over the glass and into the absent teenage son's soup that was at the table. They all kind of laughed again and I replaced the soup instantly with a fresh bowl and wiped down the boy's seat before he returned. Kind of embarrasing, but nonetheless a minor error that could have been overlooked.

Issue #3

After consulting with another server that my table was missing something I quickly charged off around the corner to head back to the kitchen. Little did I know that a three year old kid had ducked around my legs and was about to cross my path from the right of me. He did cross my path... as I took a huge step. The boy collided with my leg and went flying into the wall, hitting his head on the wood and sinking to the ground. It was like an animated character that bangs into a wall and rebounds. I was a monster!

The kid wasn't from my table, and his father didn't seem annoyed with me, he was just a tad concerned about his kids wellbeing and whisked him away before the tears could start drowning out the chatter of the customers. But this happened right next to my horror table. I could almost see them making links in their mind, the hair-the soup-and now the kid. I was incompetent.

Issue #4

I went back to check that everyone's steak had been cooked the way they like it (expecting at least one "Mine's got too much blood!" seeing as the teenage girls both ordered Medium Rare) Everyone seemed happy except for the man whose meal I pretty much chose for him, he was indecisive. His steak was lukewarm. I touched it... it was. I don't understand how this could have happened, was it frozen before they cooked it? I told him we could heat it up for him, possibly even cook up another bit of steak, but he wouldn't have a bar of it. I got the manager involved, but that wasn't doing any good.

He ate his steak, the table were still smiling and friendly, though considerably more weary by now, and they weren't joking around as much. I offered them a free desert for their troubles. They agreed and took a Trio Sampler and I sent the order through the kitchen. They probably weren't going to order anything if it wasn't free, so they were basically waiting around for this desert that was going to be shared between seven people. Hence Issue #5 was the dessert taking about half an hour.

A free dessert that they didn't even really want, that was to compensate for a lukewarm steak, that was keeping this table, obviously bored by now, obviously wanting to leave, still at the restaurant, took half an hour! I knew we had not won these guys over. I knew the fight was up.

When they cleared the bill up the man re-iterated that he was not happy. He hadn't actually seemed that pissed off up until this point so I was a tad taken aback. There may have been problems but we offered to do everything we could to prevent them. Mistakes happen on busy nights, and its unfortunate that most of them fell upon these guys.

Anyway, they left without tipping me and I apoligised again for the errors. They gave me beaming smiles and said "Its not your fault!" which is nice (because most customers assume that things, clearly out of our control, are direct outcomes of our errors) but in this case. It was my fault. I shouldn't have spilt the coke in the boys meal, I shouldnt have kicked the kid out of the way. I should have followed up the sampler and I probably should have got some of the steak wiped off the bill. Maybe after the hair in the marinara sauce I could have paid extra attention to the table to ensure everything else went smoothly but I didn't.

That was my horror table. I've had worse and I will have worse, people who aren't so easy to forgive the waitress, but seeing as I haven't had major issues with customers for a while, I thought I'd tell my story.

J