Waiting (as in tables)

  A thousand apologies for not keeping completely up to date on all the “goings on” down here, but I’ve been busy working!  It’s been lovely to have something to do with my time AND to be having money coming in instead of going out.  I’ve now been working at No. 7 Balmac for about 2 months and I’ve made lots of observations and have some fun things to relate about my experiences in the restaurant world.

  I’ve been working with Shaz, Vanessa’s good friend who has since morphed into our (Laura, Todd’s and my) good friend as well.  She has been teaching me the finer techniques of making coffee, a la NOT the Starbucks way, and my skills are getting better.  I’ve almost mastered the coffee-art fern (almost being the operative word).  When I want to celebrate my “not-ugly” coffees I want to do my “happy“ dance, but Shaz has told me I’m banned from doing my happy dance as she thinks it scares the customers.  Personally, I think it just scares her though for the life of me I can’t figure out why…and it’s not even my REALLY happy dance.  I’ve pre-warned her that she will not like my friend Kadawe’s happy dance as mine is a mere variation of hers.  Shaz is now wary of meeting Kadawe when she arrives for the Rugby world cup…but I digress.

  Since the vast majority of the wait staff at No. 7 is attending University, I’ve been called on numerous times to cover people’s shifts or to swap with some people as class and school work impede their ability to work their set schedules.  Seeing as I’ve been in rather desperate need of money post-Christmas, I’ve been readily available and have fast become the “go to” girl.  I’m ok with this and my bank account is most thrilled about it.  The greatest consequence of my working lots is the fact that I’ve been able to afford flatting (aka moving out of “little America” and into a house with a roommate).  It’s lovely, but I’ll get to that fun story in a later post.

  I’ve been doing a lot of waiting tables at No. 7.  More waiting than barista-ing and I’ve become the topic of many conversations with customers.  Most want to know where I’m from and I vacillate between telling some I’m from New York and some I’m from Maine.  It’s shocking to me that of all the people I’ve told I’m from Maine, most reply with, “Oh!  What part?”  Considering I met people from California who weren’t sure where Maine was, I’m blown away that people in New Zealand not only know where Maine is but have visited it or have friends who went to school there.  Crazy small world.  I also tend to be the subject of table wide bets.  Most bets are trying to determine if I’m from San Francisco or New York.  Sadly, I have yet to find a table to buy me a drink or dinner for helping them win the bet.  I’ve more recently started to get “what’s your ethnic background,” but these are from the regulars who have figured out where I’m from and now want to know more.

  Speaking of regulars, people here LOVE their coffees.  I’ve definitely been recognizing people and am slowly remembering people’s “usual” drinks.  It’s easy when they come in every day and I’d have to be dumb as a stump to not learn the people’s coffees who come in 2-3 times in a day.  Scary, but true… and there’s not just one either.  The restaurant draws an impressive array of people.  There are the young married couples with children (the greatest form of birth control ever - some weekends make me never EVER want to have children), the go-go-go professionals and the retired people who come in to read the paper or do sudoku.  Some just come in and camp out for half the day ordering morning coffee, brunch and then, after meeting a friend or two, afternoon coffee and a sweet treat.

  There’s day and night service.  Day involves everyone’s morning coffees and “take-away” coffees as well as brunch until 3pm.  Lunch is usually hectic and can be absolute bedlam on the weekends.  The restaurant has an upstairs with 16 tables and a couple bar areas, a downstairs with another 6 tables, and a courtyard with 8 tables.  The kitchen is downstairs so regardless how busy it is, everyone gets a workout, and during the sunny days when everyone wants to be outside in the courtyard but is ordering coffees climbing those stairs again and again can be murder on your thighs.  The dinner service is slower (in theory) as people linger longer over appetizers (called entrees here - mucks me up all the time when I think entrees are the main meal, but no, main meals are mains.  I suppose that makes sense but the entrée thing screws me up).  I think I prefer days as the turnover is so quick and the time goes by so quickly.  But dinner service is nice cuz you get time to chat up your tables and despite the fact that this is a non-tipping country, if you get the right mix of people at your table and don’t screw up their orders, they will sometimes tip.

  Groups tend to tip the most, but mainly if one person is paying.  If everyone pays for their own meal you’re probably screwed tip-wise.  I’ve been lucky enough to serve a couple large groups and got the biggest tip anyone has ever gotten (to date that is).  A local couple held a party for the wife’s 60th birthday and they invited 21 of their friends.  I looked after them all night and at the end they left me a $200 tip.  Good deal on a $1700 bill.  Not as great a deal is it probably would have been in the States, but no complaints here!  Just recently I served a group of Australians on a golfing tour - $98 tip.  Gotta love the tourists!!

  Since I’ve been working essentially full time, they’re letting me Maitre’ D, or at least start training to do that.  (Look at me and all my new authority and I’ve only been there 2 months!)  According to Shane, one of the daytime cooks, that’s a long time for wait staff.  So they’re trusting me with keeping the restaurant running on the weekends and making sure everyone’s getting well served.  A wee bit stressful and busy busy busy, but nothing like worrying that light fixtures aren’t going to make it on site to be installed in time for market week without having to ask the client for an extra few thousand dollars to expedite production and shipping! (Sometimes I REALLY don’t miss the woes of architecture…sometimes)

  There are a few pet peeves that I’ve realized having worked so much at No. 7.  I hate when people choose to sit at the one table with cups and plates still on it.  Sometimes we get caught up at the register and behind the bar and people will vacate their table.  Before we get a chance to get out there and clear the table, someone new will sit at it and push the stuff away.  Really??  Like there aren’t 8 other tables you could sit at instead?  I mean seriously people, why choose the dirty table and then look at us like “how come this wasn’t cleaned?” Ugh.  So yeah, people sitting at dirty tables drives me batty.  But mostly, I’ve decided I hate the word “Ta”.  Kiwi’s tend to shorten many words, I.e. Breakfast = brekkie, Gossip = goss, Presents = prezies) and for some reason “Thank you” or “thanks” got shortened to “Ta”.  I don’t see how that works based on the previous examples, but I HATE the word “Ta”, not sure why.  No offense to people who use it, but personally I can’t stand it.  I was at a table with a toddler and the parents were trying to get him to say “Ta” because I’d brought over his drink.  It was all I could do to not yell "Don't!"  

  So aside from those two things, I love my work! and the fact that I get days in the middle of the week completely off so I can run errands while all the shops are open.  Lovely.  Totally a different speed from my architecture in NYC job.  However there are days when I miss running to meetings and drawing and being on site solving ductwork problems!