Bokeh Oct. 17th

This is the event I'm helping with. Save the date and circulate the flyer if you feel so inclined. It's gonna be dope, and it would be a shame if you missed out.

My 21st Birthday.

For a good year or so I was considered the baby at my restaurant. You know that under-aged hostess in the movie 'Waiting'. That was me. I tried to get sassy with the guys in the front of the house. I think after a week of working at this particular restaurant one of the bartenders had slipped me his phone number. Kinda awkward because I was...19? He was definitely in his late 20's. Flattering, yes. If anything, I'm sure he was interested because 1) I was young which equals naive and 2) these guys seemed to have the hots for the Asian girls...if I can even include myself in that category.

My 21st birthday was fast approaching, and everyone knew I was really excited. Mostly because about 7 months before I got drunk at work and passed out in the bathroom...which is a story that I'd be happy to tell when I muster up the courage to do so. My birthday landed on a Monday, so my boss told me to come into the restaurant on Sunday night at 10pm so we can celebrate it midnight. Shit, alright. Cool.

I decided that I'd bring a good friend-- Manang Krys. This girl knows how to get down, and she was always the one who promoted under-age drinking. We go into the restaurant and I indulged in my first cocktail...Ferrari Martini. Blueberry infused vodka, splash of triple sec and a squeeze of lemon. Yum. Ok, to tell you the truth I probably had about 3 of those before midnight rolled around. Once all of my coworkers were clocked out we walked over to their default kick it spot: Dive Bar. That's actually it's name. Clever, huh? Apparently my coworkers knew the folks behind the bar there and we had jagger shots galore. Anything I wanted I got it. And so did Krystle. She sure got enough out of my coworker who had been trying to hit on me the past year. Jealous? Of course not.

After having about 3 shots of jagger at Dive, I can honestly tell you that my memory is all in and out from here. Not really the best story I've ever told, but I guess this is just me openly admitting that I have no recollection of what happened. When 1:30 hit, we all walked over to our friends apartment off of Santa Clara and Fifth. I had never seen my coworkers so...unprofessional. There they are hot boxing the bathroom, chugging beers, doing lines, and making out with each other. My view on life and the restaurant industry has officially become tainted. After all the ass kissing they've just done, they gotta have some fun on their own. Choose your poison wisely.

I woke up the next morning on a bed. My back was faced toward whoever was on the bed next to me and directly in front of me was a window. I remember that the breeze that was blowing through was what woke me up. The first thing I did was patted my hands over my boobs, stomach and pants just to make sure that I wasn't naked. People make mistakes when they're completely plastered, and let me tell you I am a brave one when I got the courage juice in me. I turned around and there is my guy coworker...and a woman on the other side. Fully dressed? For the most part. I hope my drunk ass didn't do any major cock blocking. I hop out of bed, woke up Krys who wass spooning on the couch with my other coworker, and we do the walk of shame back to the restaurant to get our cars. A memorable 21st birthday and introduction to legal insobriety. Or, something like that.

The Coupon King

Today has been such an odd day. The customers that I worked with today were all so...weird. I know that it's bound to happen, but today there was a mad influx of slightly-off personalities.

The customer I hate: You insist that you know everything about the restaurant and you don't need my help. Last time I checked, I'm the one with the computer in front of me that shows what I have available. Meaning, what you think you know about the place is very minimal, and I'm EMPLOYED here to assist you. Also, you think that just because I work in the service industry that I don't deserve any respect, nor am I educated. 1) Just because you're here to impress your client whom you're taking out to eat does not mean you are any better than me. 2) I graduated from UC Berkeley. I'm far more educated that you think. Back the fuck off and let me do my job.

I was working a Friday dinner shift and a man approached my desk. He says, "No reservations, but I would like a table for four please."

I say, "Sure, give me one moment to see if I have anything opening up."

As I'm about to turn away to check on tables he says, "Please don't tell me I have to wait for forty-five minutes."

I walk away and roll my eyes. Umm, excuse me mister. You do realize it's a Friday night. The busiest night of the week to go out to dinner, next to Saturday. We have a DJ here and a private event and you're trying to tell me how to do my job. MAKE A FUCKIN' RESERVATION IF YOU DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE TO WAIT! This guy is lucky that I had one table left to seat his party. As I'm walking him back I say, "Next time I recommend that you make a reservation if you want to assure that you have a table without a wait. It's our busiest night of the week and we can't make any promises for walk-ins." The asshole smirks. I should have made him wait for being such a smart ass.

Today, there was a woman who wouldn't even let me finish a sentence. She walked in asking for my manager and insisted that she speak to her. I tried to seat her at a table, but she decided to seat her ass at the bar. My restaurant hosts a buffet, and this woman was ready to pay with me right when she walked in...almost as though she thought she was at Hometown Buffet. Don't get me wrong, the chicken at that place is good. It's just that this woman was straight tacky. My manager made her way out of the kitchen and I pointed out the woman who mentioned her name. My boss had no clue who the woman was! Then, she offered them a table and said something along the lines of, "Feel free to take a seat at this table." The woman interpreted that as "sit at this table, it's free". So, she hustles her way to the buffet and, swear, got a good four plates of food. She kept complimenting my boss and saying that she looked beautiful, this and that. The server who was taking care of that table was like, "that woman thinks she's eating here for free". My boss says, "No, charge her".

Then, the most pretentious man approached my desk. The first thing he says is, "Filipina, right? You're beautiful." Oh please, back off. He starts giving me a business speal as if I have any control of what direction the restaurant takes. I tell him that our managers are unavailable and he continues to talk to me. He keep shooting me unwanted compliments and hands me two of his business cards: one for my boss and one for me. Eww. He asks, "So can I have a tour of the restaurant? I haven't been here since it relocated." So, I walk him through. Everything in this restaurant has a story behind it, so I start to explain to him what they are as we walk from one room to the next. Too bad the guy wasn't even listening to me and was looking at my legs the entire time. I mean, yes, I'm supposed to wear a dress and heels to work every day, but that does not entitle you to encroach into my personal space with your eyes. After I caught on to his glares I started to walk aside him so he would just look at my face. As I show him out of the restaurant he shakes my hand a little too long and gives me the most disgusting look. I say my thanks and start to walk. Right when I turn my back my coworker catches me give an ugly snarl. So, he goes to the man and asks if he needs anymore help. He leaves.

Thank goodness my coworker understood what was happening and stepped in even though it was only to get the guy out of the place as politely as possible. He came up to my desk to ask if I was ok. I nodded. Gentlemen, please. The women who work in this industry don't deserve to be harassed. While there are some women who don't mind the extra attention, there are others who do. And, please, just back-off. I don't appreciate the uninviting stares, and I don't deserve it. Treat me with some respect because that's all I have intended to do for you...until you say or do something beyond your jurisdiction.

I took a look at his business card-- the both of them-- and didn't even bother to show it to my boss. I know she's not interested and I know she doesn't want to do business with a sleezeball like that. It had a picture of him and above it reads, "The Coupon King". Coupon King, please. Go find a coupon to a place that teaches you how to respect women. You need some manners. While you're at it, pass that coupon on to the two previous people I've mentioned above.

Dinner With The Ninja

I know this blog is meant to be for my experiences as an employee in the service industry, but what the hell. What's a blog that talks about restaurants without a review?

I ate at Murray Circle. Everything was absolutely delicious. What was meant to be a casual dinner turned into a formal one. Fancy vests worn by the front-of-house staff and all. It's places like these that actually make me respect the restaurant industry, and give other restaurants a run for their money. My friend is a sous chef at Murray Circle, so I knew that it was going to be good. Except, I didn't know it was going to be that good. According to Yelp, my restaurant in better than this one. In reality, my restaurant doesn't even come close and the common folk obviously have no idea what they're talking about. Yelp elite? More like Yelp Elitist. I can't tell you apart from my mohawked-regular who spends $80 on himself every night he comes in. Please, you ain't that special. Until Yelp makes little pins that you can wear on your collar to signal me that your opinion matters, I can really care less.

Back to the point. Everyone in the restaurant industry knows that when an employee comes in as a guest, they are to be treated with the utmost respect. This place was on an entirely different level. Either that or I've just never been exposed to such impeccable service. Actually, I never have been exposed to it. We could have had horrible service and I probably still would have thought it was great.

I love being showed something new by people who enjoy being there. Also, I love a place that has some history behind it. Murray Circle is located in Sausalito where Fort Baker used to be a fully functioning military base. The buildings were formally used as offices and barracks, and the roads are where physical training used to commence. Since it is a historical landmark it is federally owned and the state requires that the interior and exterior to remain original condition. Let's just say that all of this modernizing happening around us can only make us appreciate what we have left of the past. It was gorgeous.

As we were being guided to our table I saw a former coworker of mine. Small world, right? The lucky girl has been working there since the restaurant opened. Let's just say that she took a giant step up from where we were at three years ago. Me? I have remained stagnant in my career. Yes, I am extremely envious. She says, "well, aren't you two going to have a nice time tonight". A wink may have followed that little comment. Awkward 'cause I didn't think I was on a date nor do I think I'm allowed to go on any at this point. Anyway, what was supposed to be a casual dinner between two young professionals to discuss future business plans could have been easily mistaken as a romantic affair. I mean, the table was gorgeous. It was a cute little table with banquette seating in between two big windows that revealed the beauty of Fort Baker. So, when I sat down I will say I felt a little weird. If I saw two people who stuck out like sore thumbs in a restaurant like that I would definitely think something fishy was going on. I mean, my hair has three different colors in it and I was wearing a fashionably loud cheetah print blouse. How am I not supposed to feel a little off? The four-top sitting adjacent to us were wearing opera appropriate clothing. I'm sure that's just how they dress on the daily. *Shrug*

You know how you occasionally go out to an overpriced dinner with a group of friends? I mean, usually you go because all of your friends are going and you feel like you owe it to them so you're willing to front the money. This is not one of those restaurants to go to with your friends. Murray Circle is a restaurant that you go to when you have a career. Like, a real one where you're entitled to your own business card. Oh, how I long for one of those. C'mon Berkeley degree, show me the money! In this case, I am thankful to have such a talented friend who can expose me to such culinary greatness.

We had an eight course meal. All of which were paired with a new glass of wine. Our dinner menus were printed just for us. While mine said "Chef's Tasting Menu", his said "Ninja's Tasting Menu". Take a look at the website and let me know if you find the Ninja...think 'Asian'. Too bad for me my 115lb body couldn't handle all of that alcohol, so after about the third glass our server announced that he would pour lighter. God bless his soul. Thank you. The portions were of reasonable size for any normal person. For me, it was almost like eating eight meals all in one sitting-- minus the two bathroom breaks to relieve my child-size *ahem*. Every plate was meticulously put together as little pieces of...art. Morsels of tasty goodness. Along with every glass that was poured and every dish that was presented our server confidently described to us its origin and expected taste, respectively. I mean, usually when you go out you read the description beneath the item on the menu. It's kind of ironic that us blue collared folk gotta read what we're about to eat, while these white collared professionals are essentially being read to. And our country places so much emphasis on literacy. Interesting. It's funny to see how the tables have turned. We were able to taste things that aren't even offered on their regular menu. Things that he hasn't even had before. Ugh, mad salivation happening in my mouth right now...if you watch The Office, I know what you're thinking...*insert inappropriate comment here*. And, you know you're being well-taken care of when the chef comes out to your table to see how you're doing. At my current employer, the chef doesn't want anyone to know that they're even there. Even when people ask to speak to the chef, I'm required to say that they're not in. Wtf is up with that? I have no idea.

Disclaimer: Hey boys out there! If you are really looking to woo a girl, listen and learn. There is nothing more romantic than taking a girl out to a nice dinner, eight courses or not. The gesture speaks volumes, I promise.

What's funny about places like this is that I have to let my savage-like behavior go. I can't eat with a spoon in one hand and a fork in the other...you Filipino folks know what I'm talking about. I tried my best to keep my fork pointed down, but I didn't practice beforehand so it was hard. Seriously, I had to think about how I would hold things before actually doing so. C'mon, haven't you seen Borat? I literally thought to myself, "damn, I wish I actually read and remembered all the things that I learned in Sociological Theory on etiquette. I could really use that right now." Instead, I had to wing it. I felt better knowing that my friend is from Vallejo. You can take the person out of the hood, but you can't take the hood out the person. Did you know that there's a right way to eat soup? Who would've known, right? The only reason why etiquette exists is to distinguish classes by the mannerisms people use around the table. You can pay to take etiquette classes. Meaning, you can buy class? *Eyebrow raise*

All-in-all, this is going to be an experience I will tell everyone who crosses my path for about the next two weeks or so. It was marvelous. Our desserts weren't even listed. It said a "plethora of desserts". Meaning, 'it doesn't matter what we have planned for your dessert you're going to love it anyway'. Definitely true.

As for the intended discussion on business, we never really got to it. What I was most pleased with was the great company that I had over a delicious meal.

One of my trips to the restroom an older woman sparked a short conversation with me as we were both washing our hands. She said, "What course are you on?"

"Our fourth," I smiled.

"We just finished our dinner. This is my first time here."

"Me, too."

She looks at me through the mirror and says, "I don't exactly know how to explain how I'm feeling right now. But, I think I feel sated. I never use that word, but that's probably the best way to express it." You know a place is legit when you got people using words out of their every day vocabulary.

I giggled and dried my hands with a hand towel (No paper towels at this place. Real towels!) "Have a nice evening." After I said that I cringed. I said something that I would to a customer at work.

At the end of our night I was given a tour of the kitchen. This kitchen was by far the best looking kitchen I've ever seen. Every restaurant that I've ever worked at looks worn down and neglected. There was even a separate kitchen where they teach private classes! Lucky me. I got to see behind the scenes.

Anyhow, this was our first dinner for the many dinners to come. We plan on hosting an event within the coming month, and I will be taking care of the event planning. Interested? You should be. Stay tuned, shoot me an email because I can promise you that my friend has some palatable marvelousness in mind...see, a word out of my normal vocabulary. Ok, maybe not. I love fabulous words like that. If you want to have a taste of what I had last night, you should really consider keeping in contact with me...that's what she said.

How Classy

It's kind of ironic that I worked at some pretty swanky restaurants throughout college because I could never actually afford to eat at one myself. That's why my friends and I resort to Jack in the Box. In this case, it would have been nice to have spilled a drink in a classy restaurant because there are people called 'bussers'. Y'know, those guys who usually speak minimal English and clean up after your nasty ass. This is my elevator, and it would have been nice to have Pedro come by to clean it up. I have clumsy friends and we're a mess when we're together.

I'm All In, Baby

Hmm, where should I start? The time when I showed the line cooks my nipples or the time I got so drunk at work I almost got fired?

How about the time I was so close to getting paid to get naked. With three other women.

It was a gorgeous night in the South Bay when they came in. A big group of people who had just finished a well-known poker tournament at Bay 101. Just so happens that within this group there were about 3 of the top 10 best poker players in the nation. Hot shots I guess.

One of the men was definitely drawn to me from the moment he walked in. I'm going to call him Kevin. Reason being because he looks like Kevin from The Office. Dead on, no joke. Anyway, apparently this man has spent a lot of time with cards considering that he was included in the top 10 and he kept coming up to the front desk to show me card tricks. I giggled and went along with his jokes. I mean, what's a girl supposed to do?

The night goes on and he purchases cigars from my cigar case and gives them all to his friends. They decide to play bocce ball on our outside patio. What's bocce ball you ask? It's a sport that the disadvantaged don't understand and probably have never heard of. And, no, I'm not saying that I'm more privileged 'cause I still don't understand the game. These men ask me if I could explain the rules because they've never played before. I politely refer them to someone else who is more familiar and they begin to play. Kevin comes back into the restaurant to my desk to tell me that him and his friends bet for $10,000 on who would win. YES! $10,000! These guys have never even played the fuckin' game before and they're goin' all in?!?! I don't even have that much money with my savings account and debt combined! Geez these guys have some mad addiction with gambling.

My night comes to a close and Kevin and his friends are outside playing double or nothing. I've finally clocked out and I decide to go outside to say goodbye to him and thanks for being more hospitable to me than I probably was for him.

I say, "I just wanted to come outside and say good bye. Thank you so much for being so nice."

"Oh no, thank you."

"Alright, well enjoy your stay here in San Jose."

"What do you mean? You're going home?"

"Yeah, I live an hour away." Which was true.

"Well, before you go I have get your phone number. You see that woman over there?" I nod my head. "That's my girlfriend and she just so happens to be Filipina, too. The entire night she's been asking about you, and she'll be upset with me if I don't get your phone number."

I think to myself. What the hell. As in, 'what the hell', I might as well give them my number I don't have anything to lose. "Alright, let me go inside and write my phone number on a business card for you." And, that's exactly what I do. I write my number down along with my name and bring it to Kevin. I hand it to him and he flags down his girlfriend. Honestly, she looked like she was being paid just to make an appearance with him. I mean, the guy didn't have an inkling of attractiveness to him. I wouldn't show up if I wasn't getting paid. Anyway, he introduces us and we shake hands. She walks away to play bocce ball with the rest of the group.

Kevin says, "my girlfriend has been wanting me to get your phone number because we have a hotel room next door tonight and we'd like to invite you over. She's having two of her other girlfriends come by and they're going to have a threesome."

"What about you", I ask.

"I'm just gonna watch."

What a sick bastid. Gross. I say, "aren't you a lucky guy."

"I'll be even luckier if you come by."

"Well, give me a phone call. Maybe I'll still be in town." I say my good bye's and proceed to walk away. Filipina service girl waves good bye and smiles.

As I'm passing the entrance to the restaurant I feel a hand on my back. It's Kevin. He says, "don't turn around, keep walking. Just take it and walk away." Creepy, right? I mean, it was at first until I grabbed what he was holding to my back and looked at it. $100 bill, baby. I gave the guy my phone number and I got a $100. Fuckin' dope. It's called caller ID, stupid. I ain't pickin' up your call.

I drive home and keep looking at my phone to see if they actually call.

11pm rolls by.
12am rolls by.
1:30am my phone finally rings with an unfamiliar number on the screen. IGNORE. They never call back. I gots mines. It would have been interesting to show up because I'm pretty sure he would have paid to see my sexy bod. But, last time I checked I have morals.

You win some, you lose some. Kevin, you definitely lost to me sucka. Thanks for the $100. Come again.

Hi, Welcome toThe Dirty Table

The first person you see when you walk into a restaurant is me. The girl with the pretty smile who is willing to seat you. She is simple, yet stylish. Soft spoken, but inviting. What a warm welcome, right?

WRONG.

This woman is not different from any other person in the restaurant. It all comes with the job. As inviting as her short dress and high heels may be to your burning need to eat at a seemingly classy restaurant, your business is her meal ticket. Literally. If there are enough people like you to walk through that door that she can get to a table, she gets to stay the entire night making her $10/hr wage plus the free meal her employer owes her for not taking a lunch break or going home early. Believe it? Of course not. I can guarantee you that it's true. All of it.

With that said, Welcome. Even though it may seem like I'm putting all of the restuarant business's dirty laundry on the table, I think that it's pretty fuckin' generous of me to do this for you. You folks pay a pretty penny just to show others that you can wine and dine as often as you please. As much as I hate this industry, I love it. Faking people out and making them feel like I genuinely care is my specialty. Same goes for everyone else I work with. The more we smile and kiss your ass, the more likely you're going to leave me that 15%+ tip on the table. Thanks, I appreciate it. If I'm lucky, one night of serving will allow me to go pay my phone bill. Too bad I'm only scheduled to work a few nights of the week.

My name is Jenny. Well, not my real name. It's my alias and I feel like it's an appropriate name because every restaurant has to have at least one...Jen, Jenny, or Jennifer. Swear to you. Next time you go to a swanky restaurant, ask your server if there's a 'Jen' that works there. It's likely that they'll say something along the lines of, "Oh, yeah. She used to work here" or "She's off tonight. I can tell her you were in".

One of the restaurants I worked at had two Jenny's. One of which was a model/actress who had pretty much won every beauty pageant the Bay Area had to offer. Then, she left for LA to pursue her acting career. What a surprise, right? The restaurant industry in LA is saturated with actors and actresses. I just wonder if any of them actually make it as 1) an actor or actress, or 2) out of the restaurant industry.

Back to me, damn it. I've been in the restaurant industry for about three years now. Over the past three years I managed to snag myself four jobs at reputable restaurants about the Bay Area: San Francisco, San Jose, Mountain View and Santa Clara. All of which I enjoy/enjoyed, but there are some real horrors that come along with this business. It's lucrative and people will do what they can to make a customer feel worth it. Even though my experience is still minimal, I think I have a great perspective on what the general restaurant looks like.

So, I'm going to write about the things that I can recollect over the years as well as my current experiences with my employer. This industry is a great one, but it's also like signing your life away to the devil. Everyone wants and needs to eat. Except, when you're the one catering to their needs, you feel like you're being eaten alive.

Sit back, relax and have a drink or two...or three. When you're done, I'd appreciate if you left a generous tip. Like, really. I have to make rent this month.

Bon Appetite!