#hostessproblems

It's not that I don't like my job. Because I do. Let's be clear on that. (I actually had this dream about a week ago in which I somehow lost track of time and completely missed my shift and I ended up having to convince my manager that I liked my job and didn't want to lose it. Dreams are so weird and illogical.) But, as with any wonderful restaurant job, there are things I have to deal with at work that are just. You know. Things. And, in honor of today being my day off, here are some of them:

1. Never knowing what time I'm working until. They "cut" me when I'm not longer needed. Depending on the manager, the number of guests in the restaurant, and the number of reservations left, it can range anywhere from 8:30 to 9:45. Which is quite the window.

2. Counting the number of unlaminated, paper menus there are (that are clean and reusable) only to be told that we're getting new menus and I can just throw all of the old ones away. (And by that I mean, recycle. We recycle. A lot.)

3. Always having to stand (no sitting, leaning, or slouching) at the hostess stand for hours at a time, usually with nothing to do, while the servers get to hide out on the ramp and read or eat biscuits.

(Although, sometimes on the weekends, when there are two hostesses, there are servers who will bring biscuits and cookies for us to eat in the closet.)

4. Being the photographer for guests' photo shoots. (I actually really love this, but they always feel bad for making me take "just one more." Like they're keeping me from doing something more important, like rereading the menu for the 746th time while I wait for the phone to ring.)

5. Blind dates. (Incredibly awkward, but incredibly awesome.)

6. Getting a call from a manager at 3:50, when I have to be at work for 4, letting me know it will be a slow night and I'm not needed. "Are you close?" Um, yeah. If you expect me to be to work on time, you better hope I'm close. But I have no problem turning around and going home, as long as I haven't already paid for parking.

7. Having to find the server of the table I just sat so I can give them the card (which is basically a receipt with the guest information–like the number of guests, table number, any food allergies, etc.). Or, finding the server, but not being able to give them the card because they're at a table.

8. Telling a server that the table I just sat in his section is not actually his table. (I hate doing this because they say "okay" in a way that implies I don't know what I'm doing or I'm not being fair. Except for Erich. He always says, "Oh, that's fine." And smiles at me, like he never wanted that table anyway.)

9. Watching people trip up the stairs. Because the restaurant is on the second floor and the host stand is right at the top of them. And the stairs are taller than most, so people trip

up

 them. A lot.

10. Hearing "Maps" play at least once every shift and remembering that one snow day when T and I played that song on rock band at least 18 times. (Not an exaggeration.) And then remembering that there are seven hours between us and I haven't seen her in three months.