The Woes and Wonders of Waiting Tables as a High School Kid

Sarah Bedrosian
Sep 1, 2018 · 6 min read

Sixteen year old me wasn’t exactly what you would call a people person. She had only a small handful of close friends and for the most part preferred to steer clear of conversations with strangers. She dreaded making phone calls to set up her own appointments (not like the good old days when mom used to make the calls) and could hardly even muster up the courage to place an order at the drive thru. You would think someone so timid would simply evaporate when thrown into a chaotic restaurant, so when I arrived for my first shift at Lenny’s Pizzeria and Tattoria on a busy Friday evening, I was terrified to say the least. I expected the baptism of fire that ensued that night, but I never expected to end up learning so much from it.

At the time, I had decided that I was tired of relying on my parents for money and craved some kind of independence. My parents and I agreed that it would be helpful for me to have some responsibility and work experience, so I took the plunge. As a server, I knew I would likely encounter some difficult customers, the thought of which which deterred me at first, but I figured it would be useful to learn how to handle those sorts of things. I found out when I came in on my first day that I would be responsible for a bit more than I expected. My new coworker Jenn was waiting right by the front door to greet me and thrust me into my first shift. I was quickly introduced to the rest of my coworkers and immediately got going. Together, we cleaned the bathrooms, refreshed the napkins on the tables, and wiped down practically every surface in the restaurant in preparation for the dinner rush to come. Once the initial tasks of the shift were out of the way, Jenn showed me the extensive menu and told me to memorize as much as I could before I took my first table. My head swam as I attempted to cram the eight lengthy menu pages into my brain.

Shortly after scanning the menu, I got down to business. My first few tables were on the smaller side (lots of elderly couples coming in for an early dinner) so I felt confident for a while. Around 7:00pm things got especially hectic both on the restaurant floor and in the kitchen. An eight person table comprised of half adults and half children came in and I was instructed to take them. I could tell right as I seated them that these people expected spot on, speedy service. I brought them drinks as quickly as I could without spilling anything, despite my shaking hands. The youngest of the children began angrily demanding french fries. I went around the table and quickly scribbled down each of the highly specific orders which all featured modifications to the original menu options. As soon as I double checked everyone’s orders, I stumbled into the kitchen, put the order in, and prayed everything would come out correct and quickly.

Twenty minutes later, the madness reached its peak. I returned to the kitchen to request an update on the order for my large table. The cook could hardly hear me over the cacophony of voices yelling angrily in multiple languages all throughout the kitchen. “Table 15!” I yelled. “When will table 15’s food be ready? They’re getting really impatient.” To which the chef responded “What the hell are you talking about, there’s no order for table 15! Must have gotten lost I guess.” At that moment, Jenn floated into the kitchen and informed me that food order slips get lost pretty frequently so I shouldn’t expect it to be the last time. Together, we made our way over to table 15 to explain the mistake to them. They were understandably upset with me and I half expected them to walk out of the restaurant right then and there. Thankfully, Jenn had handled countless situations like this throughout the years and she expertly reassured them that their food would be out right away. Eventually after being offered free dessert, the customers decided to stay. After another half hour of frantically checking on my other tables and receiving my fair share of side eye from table 15, the food was finally ready. Thankfully, they decided it was worth the wait and asked me to commend the chef on his food before they left. i breathed a massive sigh of relief as they exited the restaurant. After everyone had left at around 10:30pm, my fellow waitresses and I bussed and wiped down all the tables, counted the tip money, and prepared the whole restaurant for the next day’s lunch shift. We also totaled up all the checks from the night and recorded the sales for the owner’s records. Our end of night cleaning responsibilities usually kept us all there at least half an hour after closing, so we were pretty exhausted. Before we all left for the night, I collapsed into a booth by the window, my feet aching, and counted my earnings. All the hard work felt worth it in that moment. My coworkers told me they were impressed that I was able to keep it together while we all walked out together.

It took me about two more weeks to fully get the hang of everything. By then, I had memorized the menu and gotten used to the constant running around and multitasking. Many familiar faces filed in week after week and I eventually established pleasant relationships with all our regulars. There were even certain tables who knew me since I first started and would request my services specifically when they came in. The kind-hearted regular customers were definitely one of the highlights of my time at Lennys. I can recall multiple fascinating conversations with customers on topics including music, religion, books, career plans, travel, and more. The more I interacted with the customers, the more I felt myself blossoming into a personable and professional server. I also became close friends with most of my coworkers and Jenn and I are best friends to this day, regardless of the fact that neither of us work at Lenny’s anymore. Jenn, like 90% of my other coworkers, is Paraguayan and would often teach me conversational Spanish at the restaurant so I could better understand all the chatter going on. The multi-cultural aspect of Lenny’s kept me excited about coming back each day to work alongside fascinating people. The solidarity and support between the waitresses and other staff at Lenny’s gave me the confidence to feel capable of completing all my nightly tasks.

After three years of waiting tables, I felt completely transformed as a person. Nineteen year old me came to realize that she always had the right kind of personality for food service, she just needed the opportunity to draw it out and let it shine. On my final day at work the restaurant owner, Mr. Rami, told me how proud he was that he got to see my self confidence progress so much overtime. My experiences as a server quickly spilled over into my personal life and I found myself making much more of an effort to meet new people and put myself in social situations that previously evoked intense anxiety. When I eventually left home for the first time to go to college, I felt far better equipped to network and make connections with new people. I learned that I can take tough criticism without cracking under pressure as long as I’m trying my best to improve. I’ve taken the customer service skills I’ve learned at Lenny’s with me to every job I’ve had afterwords so I’ve been able to progress more and more with each different challenge I take on. Overall, I believe every young person should get some kind of serving experience under their belt as it truly helps mold shy kids into confident self-sufficient adults. I’ll always be grateful for the transformation i underwent at Lenny’s and I still go in from time to time to grab a slice and visit my old friends.

Pictured above are my lovely coworkers and I along with two of their children. (Jenn is front and center and I am in the back in the plaid shirt). From one of the many times we all got together outside of work.

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