The Smiling People Greeter
ERIC, ONE OF my managers and friends, walked up to me last night as I sat by the entrance to the restaurant eating my Triple Prime Cheese Burger. I was Speegying, so I had to keep and eye on the door, even during my dinner break, in case someone came in who needed to be sat. Of course, I couldn't directly see the door, but we have a salad bar with mirror backing, so if you sit at a particular spot at a particular booth, you can use the reflections to see if anyone's waiting for service. He walked over and leaned across the partition between mine and the adjacent booth.
"So, Cody," he said, sratching the top of his buzz cut.
This is gonna be bad, I thought.
"How much do you make waiting tables?"
"Uh, $2.13?" I said.
"And how much do you make S-P-G-ing?"
I didn't really know the answer to that one. To be honest, I never really read that part of my check stub at the end of the week. I really didn't care. I just always assumed my wages never changed, considering that when I SPG, the waitstaff tips me out.
"I don't know," I said, "$2.13?"
"Three."
"What?"
"I always thought you made three bucks an hour Speegying," he said. He realized he was getting off the point, so he shook his head and continued while I started wondering why he was interrupting my dinner in the first place.
"Well, anyway," he said, "what would you say if I talked to Fred to get you more money and make you a Speegy permanently?"
Suddenly, I found myself next to Trish, one of the closers that night, explaining to me that it's obvious I like doing it and that we only have one SPG right now. I was getting a little worried, considering that the reason I ever left Neptune's was that they wanted to make me their permanent host.
"And I've already gotten two complements on you tonight," Eric said, smiling. "One from JP's section and one from Trish's. They said you're the best host they've ever seen. They said you're the only one who genuinely smiles at them when they come in."
I heard what they were saying, and buttering me up really did help a bit, but the fact was that I needed the money from being a waiter and, pay raise or not, moving from server to Speegy was a pay cut, plain and simple. A pay cut I can't afford.
"Well, I do enjoy it," I finally said. "You know, making people happy when they come in. But I wouldn't make any money. I mean, I need to be a waiter."
"That's why I wanted to talk with Fred about a pay raise," Eric said.
"I don't know. I'd have to see how much more I'd be getting before I said anything at all."
Trish and Eric sort of dropped it with that and let me be. Luckily, they're nice enough people that they can tell when they're trying to screw me, or when I feel like I'm being screwed. It stayed just a little conversation with an innocent little question pressed in for good taste. But by the end of the night, after I'd received my tip out of $45 for my work, Eric told me Trish made $55. And she left before me...while I cleaned the toilets and changed out the Vagina Bags in the ladies room.
Yeah, I think I'll stick to serving. It's nice to not worry about the stress of constantly making guests happy, but then again...there are the Vagina Bags.
"So, Cody," he said, sratching the top of his buzz cut.
This is gonna be bad, I thought.
"How much do you make waiting tables?"
"Uh, $2.13?" I said.
"And how much do you make S-P-G-ing?"
I didn't really know the answer to that one. To be honest, I never really read that part of my check stub at the end of the week. I really didn't care. I just always assumed my wages never changed, considering that when I SPG, the waitstaff tips me out.
"I don't know," I said, "$2.13?"
"Three."
"What?"
"I always thought you made three bucks an hour Speegying," he said. He realized he was getting off the point, so he shook his head and continued while I started wondering why he was interrupting my dinner in the first place.
"Well, anyway," he said, "what would you say if I talked to Fred to get you more money and make you a Speegy permanently?"
Suddenly, I found myself next to Trish, one of the closers that night, explaining to me that it's obvious I like doing it and that we only have one SPG right now. I was getting a little worried, considering that the reason I ever left Neptune's was that they wanted to make me their permanent host.
"And I've already gotten two complements on you tonight," Eric said, smiling. "One from JP's section and one from Trish's. They said you're the best host they've ever seen. They said you're the only one who genuinely smiles at them when they come in."
I heard what they were saying, and buttering me up really did help a bit, but the fact was that I needed the money from being a waiter and, pay raise or not, moving from server to Speegy was a pay cut, plain and simple. A pay cut I can't afford.
"Well, I do enjoy it," I finally said. "You know, making people happy when they come in. But I wouldn't make any money. I mean, I need to be a waiter."
"That's why I wanted to talk with Fred about a pay raise," Eric said.
"I don't know. I'd have to see how much more I'd be getting before I said anything at all."
Trish and Eric sort of dropped it with that and let me be. Luckily, they're nice enough people that they can tell when they're trying to screw me, or when I feel like I'm being screwed. It stayed just a little conversation with an innocent little question pressed in for good taste. But by the end of the night, after I'd received my tip out of $45 for my work, Eric told me Trish made $55. And she left before me...while I cleaned the toilets and changed out the Vagina Bags in the ladies room.
Yeah, I think I'll stick to serving. It's nice to not worry about the stress of constantly making guests happy, but then again...there are the Vagina Bags.
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