I've not had my letter inviting me to a tea party to celebrate my Marriott anniversary yet, its a new manager so I'll let her off, but its my third year working for Marriott. I'm incredible I know.
It was only a month after my last GCSE and I became a waitress. I cried on my first shift. Haha, no really I did. I can't fully remember why but a chef probably shouted at me and I probably got an order wrong. I say probably because these things happen often "No Madame, you definitely ordered a medium steak, it says so on the cheque..."
So in three years I have witnessed the great to the down right crazy, oh and several restaurant managers. Each new one with bigger and bolder goals than the last, unfortunately most would find it difficult to organise a hug in a brothel. However, the current one seems to be doing the best out of the several hundred I have seen.
So, the guests, wow we get some oddballs - I've been asked to make a red wine spritzer, thats red wine with lemonade, so basically high treason and accountable for death. I had to ask twice whether he wanted me to actually mix the two, he did... sacrilege.
I've spilt red wine over a man's shirt - he refused to help me hand out the drinks to a large table, downright rude, so I had to offer him our free dry cleaning service, which he refused but throughout the night continued to say "careful, she's back!" every time I served the table.
I've served Swiss guests and told them extremely confidently that the Sea Bream is a river fish and they completely fell for it, so did I till I realised what I had said 3 hours later... Not my finest hour.
The list is massive on all things I've witnessed, done wrong or assisted in doing wrong. I've ripped up a sign that said "Linconshire sausages", its "LincoLnshire sausages", I've now thrown away approximately five free lap dancing tickets that keep appearing in the bar (whoever keeps putting them there, stop, I had an angry mummy slam one on the bar after her three year old daughter asked why a naked lady was on the front of the ticket) - this really has confused me because the ticket says that last entries are at 3:30am, the bar closes at 4am and then the place closes at 5:30am... what happens in that hour and a half... or do I not want to know? I still have one in my bag for evidence, if anyone wants it...
I've seen a string of associates (thats other waiters and waitresses in Marriott speak) enter and leave, some just moving departments for very unknown reasons, some for very known reasons.
Ofcourse, ever since I was 18 and started working behind the bar I have have some very interesting comments come my way from guests. Before I was 18 I wasn't allowed to serve large groups of male golfers on my own (no girl wanted to!), they're a rare breed aren't they. I've been asked several times what nationality I am; "British", I reply, "Don't lie", I've recieved back on two occasions - erm, rude, not lying. I've heard a fellow waitress of a similar skin colour be asked if her uncle is Robert Mugabe - to which she laughed, I'd have thrown a steak knife. Anyway, a few weeks ago it was a very quiet Monday evening to which I was informed I had to keep the bar open late because a few residents were returning and expected me to serve them. I knew who it was, I served them a month before and I didn't return home till 4:30am. This one male was very interested in the cellars of the place, so I said if they ordered champagne they can see them - I thought that was fair, so they ordered. Anyway, we returned from the cellar (a few others came) and a very seedy man said "was it through her back doors?" - doors, plural?!- ew. Then as I was innocently restocking the fridges I heard: "I bet you wouldn't mind waking up next to her" - to which I replied "last orders".
I can definitely see there being a #2 to this story...
Be good
RHS x
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