y0lk-124

eZine lover (@eZine)

Published in 

Y0LK

 · 5 years ago

  

--(y0lk)--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 
y0lk #124: "Can I help j00? (or, Foodservice Sucks)" - by meenk 

 
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        I hostess at a gourmet kosher vegetarian restaurant. Basically, that 

 
means I show jews and picky vegetarians to tables, roll silverware into 

 
napkins, and take and prepare take out orders. Doesn't seem like a bad job, 

 
and it isn't; on very slow days. However, being the only completely 

 
kosher/vegetarian place in the area, really slow days are rare. 

 
 

 
        I get in to work just after the lunch rush. This means I have about 

 
an hour to stock the drink cooler, roll enough silverware for the dinner 

 
rush, put the night's special on the chalkboard, and (if anyone worth talking 

 
to is working) shoot the shit with my co-workers. Occasionally people come in 

 
during this time and require my attention. In fact, this is the best time to 

 
come in since, A.) we aren't busy, and B.) meenk is still in a good mood. 

 
 

 
        Usually, just as I finish with these tasks, someone calls asking for 

 
me to read the menu to them. As long as I am not busy, I don't mind this at 

 
all. They usually just hang up. This is also the prime time for calls to the 

 
other staff. It seems that the friends and relatives of most of my co-workers 

 
have speech impediments. Oh yeah, can't forget the people who call needing to 

 
know exactly how certain things were dubbed kosher, whether something is 

 
parve, and exactly how many rabbis it takes to screw in a lightbulb. 

 
 

 
        About this time families start to come in. On average, these families 

 
consist of one or two adults, and about four children. As hostess it is my 

 
duty to seat these people as far from anyone else as I can. Of course, this 

 
always proves to be an exercise in futility because they require a large 

 
table. Our restaurant has three tables which can accomodate a party of six, 

 
without turning the joint into a Boxyboy (old sega game, push yellow boxes 

 
through a maze onto red squares) round. These large tables are as far from 

 
eachother as possible. The idea seems nifty in an empty restaurant, but once 

 
you have three families, with at least four children each, the place turns 

 
into a circus. Not only is EVERY corner of the restaurant saturated with the 

 
screeches of children, but because of the tightly knit jewish community, they 

 
all know eachother. Right next to the hostess station (my little sanctuary) 

 
is where these twelve children choose to converge. In a really sick way, I am 

 
thankful that this is also the center of the restaurant. Misery loves 

 
company. The parents of these children encourage this. The Atlanta Jewish 

 
community is incredibly social. 

 
 

 
        Of course, this is where the picky vegetarians come in. They usually 

 
come in alone or in pairs. I believe this is because their diet causes a 

 
chemical imbalance in their brains making them loathe children. Of course, 

 
_I_ am the one that gets the glares when these children are playing tag in 

 
the restaurant. I would be willing to babysit for a 100% raise. Until then, 

 
everyone else in the restaurant can rot. I have suspicions that these are the 

 
same people that call and ask me to read them the menu. I am glad I am not 

 
their server. 

 
 

 
        There is an old man that comes in every week. The first time he saw 

 
me he said, "Do you have take out?" to which I replied, "Yes, sir!" He then 

 
said, "Can I take you out?" Being that I am an IRC girl, and not even one of 

 
the charming ones, I just stared at him. He asked me to seat him, then asked 

 
me to join him. Two blank stares in a row. This guy was great at making me 

 
feel socially awkward. Every week he has a conversation, a single 

 
conversation, with everyone within earshot. I hear he tips really well. 

 
 

 
        By the end of the night I usually know 3 new things: 1.) what 

 
happened on this week's Dawson's Creek, 2.) too much about big business in 

 
Israel, and 3.) unsolicited information about my boss. He claims to be 

 
Wiccan. He also claims I am Pagan. Both little tidbits of information I was 

 
not aware of. He is a master of having a two-way conversation with people who 

 
don't respond. 

 
 

 
        I like Jews.