Andrea and I went downtown on Monday to look for a job. We saw on Craig’s List that Péché needed servers, hosts, line chefs, barbacks, etc. I know that I absolutely loathe waiting tables, but there isn’t anything else out there that’ll be flexible with my school hours. Besides, waiting tables is good and fast money, which is what I really care about. The downers though are the idiotic people you serve and the disrespect you’re forced to put up with because your job requires nothing but customer service. But I’ve learned to deal with all of that as time went on by not tolerating it, so it isn’t that bad.
Anyhow, we went downtown around 3:30. We first stopped to fill out an application at the Roaring Fork, which is on the corner of 7th and Congress, right next to the Paramount Theater. I actually worked two blocks down from there when I interned for the Kay Bailey for Senate Committee. I’m not sure if they’re hiring or not, but they told us that they were accepting applications, so we filled one out. It didn’t look too promising, but hey.
Then we drove to 4th Street to apply at Péché. We drove up and down that gay street (literally, it’s gay. 4th is filled with nothing but gay bars), looking for the stupid place. We happened to run across it when we were on our way to apply at Trulock’s. Péché was just two buildings down, on the corner. It was so small and narrow, no matter we couldn’t find it.
We asked this blonde server for an application, and she told us to go downstairs to their bar to get an application. So, we did. There was a girl there sitting on the couch while talking on the phone. She asked if she could help us and told us that we had to get the application from the manager in the office. Andrea went over to said manager’s office, but he motioned that he was on the phone and would be with her in a minute. Yeah, a minute my ass. Andrea and I waited there at the bar top for about a good twenty minutes. Now mind you, we were paying for a meter. And if you read my previous entry about how much I hate meter queers, this only irritated me more.
What irritated me the most was that he was blasting on the phone. Andrea and I were only about ten feet away from his office, so we could hear everything perfectly. And you know what he was talking about? Nothing business-related. He was on a personal call with one of his buddies, probably one of his equally ugly band members in their wannabe reggae Bob Marley cover band. What the hell?
And the fact that he would leave his office, walk past us, completely ignore us, and walk up and down behind the bar didn’t help either. He did that about three times. There was even one instance when he walked right toward us. I thought he was finally taking a few seconds out of his conversation, but nope. He simply grabbed his coffee that was on sitting on the bar top where we were and went back to his office. What a fucker.
Twenty minutes into our wait, he finally decided to leave his office to ask us what we needed. When we told him that we were just there for an application, he told us that the applications were upstairs at the restaurant. We told him that they sent us down to the bar; but evidently, he printed more out that morning and gave them to the restaurant. *sighs*
So again, we went back upstairs. The blonde server had the audacity to put on a show. She asked us if we got an application from downstairs. We told her that the manager told us that he sent up newly printed ones that morning, and she pretended that she forgot and went and gave each of us an application. I would be saying fuck you to the blonde server too, but there’s a possibility that she really did forget about the newly printed applications, so I won’t; thus, the fuck you only goes out to the Bob Marley wannabe manager.
Andrea and I applied to the new Roaring Fork near The Domain yesterday. They’re not even finished building it yet. We saw how the new restaurant’s supposed to look when it’s complete, and it’s absolutely gorgeous. It’s right on Stonelake.
After we filled out an application, they made us take an exam. It’s the same exam that Chili’s gives to prospective employees. It has a lot of easy math, but it takes forever to do the problems because you’re not allowed to use a calculator. The math problems are retarded. You never actually use that math as a server. There’s even a small analogy portion and a reading section, much like the ones found on the SAT (well, when the SAT had an analogy portion back in the day). The last half of the exam featured a personality portion, which was more retarded (on a scale of 1 to 5, how friendly do you rate yourself?). There's no possible way that Andrea and I failed the first half of the exam. If we don't get a call back about this job, it was because we didn't pass the personality portion. How would that be possible though since we're already servers? In the case of us not getting an offer, they'll make the next Fuck You Friday.
Anyhow, while I was taking my exam, I got a text from Denny. It just said, "Why don't you want to play with me anymore?" What the hell? Who the hell says that to someone? Play with him? He must think that this is all a game. He probably thought that I was joking when I told him that I thought it was best we kept our distance. So delusional.
I believe that's it. I can only think of two people who made the Fuck You Friday this week. I'm sure it'll grow. Until then...
It must suck to be Filipino.
ReplyDeleteYay, I didn't make this weeks FYF!
ReplyDelete