To the ***** **** Restaurant Group, December **, 20**
The following are paradigmatic examples of normalcy condoned at my place of employment, *****'s ************* Mall location. In no way is anything written directly intended to offend or exasperate anyone, nor is any example written directly intended to identify or single out anyone in particular. These are simply typical situations encountered at my work place from a fictitious standpoint.
I’m working an 11- hour shift on a Friday and God forbid I get hungry and take bite of bread to keep from loosing consciousness and fainting. I’m dehydrated and hungry because I was scheduled a double on the patio and it’s 96 degrees outside, I’m refilling ice water like it’s Mountain Dew at a Chucky Cheese. My feet are killing me because they cut the server assistants to shave labor costs, they then make us think it’s a favor to save us money when realistically they’re not able to appropriate an effective method of floor scheduling and now my job is in jeopardy because I took a measly bite of bread to save myself from this constant feeling of nausea. I see a group of line cooks huddled around a bowl of calamari and a hot steaming margarita flatbread in the back, my mouth waters as they converse in their native language and take the occasional glance over to laugh at the hungry servers. They are obviously the heart of the house, we service staff employees must be the liver. My livelihood is threatened over a lousy piece of sourdough bread.
God forbid I quickly peek at my phone, completely out of visibility to any customers. I’m checking a message because my child has the flu or my grandmother has kidney stones and she’s been in and out of the hospital for a week, whatever the case may be, I’m better off with the cell phone at home or my livelihood is at stake. I walk past the kitchen expo counter only to see sous chefs and managers huddled around each other, talking about a You Tube video or checking text messages in their downtime. They are obviously the brains of the house, we service staff employees must be the throat. My livelihood is threatened over an innocent text message.
I work 30 to 40 hours a week, but realistically I spend half as much more time in this restaurant. Some days I spend the better half of an entire day only to make 15 or sometimes 35 dollars. Granted, I have certainly made over 100 dollars on very few occasions, but let’s be practical here, what is 100 dollars in this economy? I found that our kitchen employees are barely making 10-12 dollars an hour! Are you kidding me? Speaking for them, I’m in a market such as *****’s ************* Mall, an annual 350 million dollar publically traded company’s leading store, slaving over a hot grill and managing 30 dollar steaks and 25 dollar fish filets and I’m barely making 3 dollars over minimum wage? I guess that’s business, and we, as the heart and soul of this corporation, are obviously the bottom feeders.
It’s around 3pm on a Tuesday and I’m briskly walking through the restaurant looking for something productive to occupy my time. It’s imperative that at all times throughout an entire shift we work as hard as possible from the moment we clock in until the moment we clock out. After all, they are paying us a whopping 4.25 an hour! Fortunately I don’t mind staying proactive, it makes the day fly by. Most times working for these people that’s all you can hope for. There are probably 15 people in the dining room and on the expo line there’s one tray with two plates ready to go out. I’m literally bending over to pick it up as I hear loudly and obnoxiously three feet from my head, “HEY, CAN WE GET SOME FOOD RUNNERS?” What does it look like I’m doing here mid-lift, Yoga? Minutes later I have four linen, four plates, and a stack of silverware in my hands walking toward a table that was recently cleared as I hear loudly and obnoxiously three feet from my head, “CAN YOU RESET SOME TABLES PLEASE?” Oh thanks, because I was just about to sprawl out on the booth and take a nap. I guess the please was a nice touch. I have never encountered such a micromanaging group of leaders in my life. It’s completely laughable, yet undeniably redundant and inapt. It’s utterly ineffective and yet they continue with the charades with the hopes of gaining respect through napoleonistic dominance.
I’ve just finished 2 hours of sidework after taking 4 tables and making 19 bucks after tipping out. I’d love to sit down and enjoy a nice meal on my break and I’m praying the dinner shift will be more bankable than lunch. I must admit, this particular restaurant is far too generous, offering employees a wide selection of three tables from which to choose in remote areas strategically placed somewhat out of sight. By all means I understand, we as servers are a miserable sight for already sore eyes. “Well let’s take a look at the menu. Hmm, the pre packaged, previously frozen, bagged soup today is minestrone, and I think I’ll pass. Earlier I overheard the kitchen saying something about the fish being 4 days old, no thanks. Ah yes, the shrimp and chorizo flatbread sounds delightful, I’ll have that.” Well unfortunately I might as well forget that idea. As an employee, while breaking, you will never order anything other than pizza, pasta, or salads, and God forbid there is anything to do with seafood or steak in your order. As for the old “Chef” *******, for whom I’d prefer calling kitchen manager, not even if you intend on paying full fare. Idiocracy and utter foolishness at it’s finest! Now, introducing our newest kitchen manager, I seem to have noticed some sensible revisions to the rules. I’ve also been impressed with his attempt to introduce some interesting changes to our corporate mandated menu. So on another double I sit down to have lunch again, this time fully embracing the incessantly changing rules and regulations. I remember seeing a chipotle chicken panini at one of my tables today and boy I had to try it. It looked finger licking, lip smacking, just down right scrumptious. As I order I am once again disappointed yet coincidentally satisfied. I am now allowed to order the Panini, but God forbid they give me a discount on it. The price of chicken has gone up drastically and times are tough for ****, or the kitchen cannot effectively prepare an adequate amount of paninis due to the wait staff ordering at least 70-80 a day; either excuse, pathetic. I just want a God-dammed chicken panini, is that too much to ask? They could never endure paying my full time average 140 dollars a week in wages, while at the same time taking even just a mere 25% discount off the price of a sandwich, or ANY of these so called “restricted” menu items. Do they not realize that even ************* Mall employees are treated better and discounted more appropriately by our own restaurant than we are?
Fact: A mall employee can actually walk in on THEIR break, eat the same lousy sandwich, and pay less than a **** employee, working a scheduled double shift, eating on their own break. Talk about a slap in the face. This is ****.
When I first dined at this location in April of 20** I had a good experience. Though the food was mediocre at best, the server was outstanding. It seemed to be nothing more than an over priced Olive Garden with an interior more identifiable with Target’s brand line of home décor. Okay, maybe that’s a bit harsh, on a good day the food is most comparable to an overpriced Carrabba’s and the interior more like a Pier One Imports. I was weeks away from being a father and the transition to a new city and from a previous position in business was rather overwhelming. I knew that if I were to get my foot in the door of a corporate styled restaurant situated next to a sumptuous and rather upscale shopping mall, I’d do fairly well for the next year of my life while I deliberated over my new future in *****. The next statement is something that I have considered carefully and I am absolutely certain of its sincerity. The time I have spent as an employee with the ***** **** Restaurant Group has been the least suitable and most insufficiently gratifying time I have ever spent with any company in my working history. It has caused more anxiety, agitation, and displeasure than any consistent routine in which I have ever engaged. I cringe at the mere thought of walking back into this establishment as an underpaid, unappreciated, and undervalued employee.
This is my resignation effective immediately.
