My Soapbox

Having spent my entire adult life working in the hospitality and food and bev industry, I have acquired many a story in my "workplace horrors" repertoire. There are plenty of nightmare stories that would cause even Mike Rowe to gag. My personal philosophy is that everyone should be forced to work at some form of hospitality job either before, during, or after college to give one a bit of perspective. This perspective might come in handy when, say, dining at a restaurant. Trust me, your side of ranch dressing is not that important to me and if I don't remember it the first time please politely ask me again. Don't ask for my manager, don't tell me that you will only dine here again if I have been fired, and the cardinal rule for those that have seen Waiting...: don't EVER be rude with people that handle your food. This blog will help to serve as my soapbox, or more appropriately, my megaphone to speak up for those that toil tirelessly in the kitchen or behind the desk.

Just to bring everyone up to speed for those of you that are joining us in the middle of our regularly scheduled program, I love my job. There have only been maybe two times in my life that I can say I truly despised my current job and one of those was when I worked in a barn. I think it takes a certain type of person that is able to switch their hospitality on and off and I am very grateful to have that gift. Granted, it doesn't necessarily warrant infinite patience because LORD knows I don't have a ton. But thus is the plight of hospitality. There are days that I will wake up late, get ready in 15 minutes or less, drive 10 miles an hour over the speed limit to work, literally sprint out of the parking garage in heels to make sure that I clock in on time, grab a cup of semi-crappy hotel brand coffee that I won't be able to enjoy because I am literally chugging it to wake up, only to realize a few things when I finally plop down at my desk approximately 3 minutes late:

1. I haven't brushed my teeth
2. I spilled a tiny dribble of coffee down my white suit jacket...I'll say that again for those of you in the cheap seats. My white suit jacket.
3. I'm sweating to the point where my Jew fro (that I incidentally spend hours each week to keep smooth) starts to kick in
4. I have a line 5 people deep waiting to talk to me

And so begins Delighted to Serve....