When I think of you, I think about our conversations we have had, and how one day I swore that I’d marry you.
I might have been serious because I have a hard time seeing myself with anyone else. Plus, I know that we could have that awesome sex that we’ve talked about before, especially when you see some of the things I have.
I do think we’d work out well. I just wish I could see you again instead of seeing your face through a phone screen.
I miss our conversations, though. It’s amazing how two years later, I wouldn’t take anything back.
Today at work, I had this lovely table of three black women. Now, I’m not being racist, but as a server, I see the sex and color, and then automatically think “well I’ll be lucky if I make five dollars.”
I’m like your average server when it comes to stereotyping my tables, we serve you like what we expect your tip to be. Which if we think you won’t tip 20% of your bill, then we won’t give you 100% service. It’s tough, and I always feel bad doing this, but it happens when you see it over and over again what kind if tip certain types of people leave. That’s why we judge our tables, doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to give them decent service.
Well, these ladies were super sweet, like I was expecting. But this table I decided to give them awesome service, regardless of what tip I would make. They didn’t need refills often, and they only asked for bread two times, but I brought it to them a couple more times than those times.
I gave them everything’s they asked for, and always used my manners by saying “no, ma’am,” and “yes, ma’am.”
I even got the eldest one new shrimp to take home because hers were too hard.
By the time the check came around, I began to fear that all that time and effort I put in to this table might have been for nothing. I’ve always learned to expect the worst and hope for the best, but sometimes you just need to expect the best.
When I finally cashed these ladies out, they had left me a perfect 20% tip for me. I was so excited that that moment I had with these ladies have changed my whole perspective on stereotyping my tables.
I treated then with respect like a human being should be treated with, and I think that’s all our tables want. Instead of looking at these people like tables, we should start seeing them as human beings that would like to be respected.
Most people that go out to eat already have problems at home, especially when it comes to being disrespected. Let them escape that for an hour, and you’ll be rewarded every time.