Sunday, Jul. 18, 2004
Another Sunday brunch, posted at 5:17 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com Just got back from the restaurant, where I made about $40, which is much better than yesterday's $12. The big news today is that the owner, who I generally like when she comes in about once a month, has decided that the white oxford shirts with the logo of the restaurant are the new required uniform. This is a first in the year I've worked there, and it's especially sucky because we all have to buy the shirts. I'll probably end up buying more than one, since I don't have a washer and I've been working five times a week. They're $20. We're currently pretty lucky to make $20 in a shift. Therefore, it's really shitty. I wouldn't mind so much if it were the winter and we were making $100 a night. And I wouldn't mind it if the owner was in there every day, working, and didn't just show interest once a month and end up making our lives a bit more hellish than working for eight hours and making less than minimum wage already is.I feel like going up to the woman and telling her that, here, this is why people quit without giving notice. This is why we can't hire servers. This is why, right here.
But I don't, because I'm not the type to complain that directly. I'll instead whine about it to people I know will be supportive, something that will make me feel a little better, maybe, but won't institute any sort of change.
I wish waitstaff around the country could unionize in some way, and that people wouldn't go to restaurants without unionized servers. It's far-fetched, but it would sure be nice. Like, how in the hell do restaurants get away with paying me $2.38/hour, far below minimum wage? I have worked many shifts when the amount of my tips does not increase my hourly wage to above minimum wage; how is this legal?
Feel extraordinarily whiny, I guess.
There were good things at work today; maybe I should concentrate on that.
1. Walter, who is 90 years old, came in sporting is usual sly grin. When Polish Girl asked what he wanted to eat today, he replied, "You." She was certain he was just confused, but I'm not so sure. He's just a wily old man. And he's freaking 90 years old, used to hang out with Frank Sinatra, used to jump trains, and eats at the restaurant almost every day.
2. Polish girl came behind the bar, grabbed onto my bicep, but her head on it, and sighed, sitting there for a while.
3. I work with the funny, cute girl who was funny and cute all day.
4. Despite almost 90 covers today, my register was only 84 cents off, the fault of a server who overcharged by that much on a credit card bill.
5. Sunday brunch is the only shift where the barista can do almost as well as the servers. The money I made today is comparable with the money they made. I still would rather be serving, but Sunday brunch is the only day that I hedge on that.
**
If you are wondering about my excuse for not asking #2 out, well, she just broke up with her boyfriend of a year. And she smokes. That's two for ya. I can come up with them real good, since I am the king of them.