Life of a Server


The day most people long for. The start of the weekend, usually much overdue from the long work week. However, for me it’s quite a different story.

At 4 p.m., on a Friday my serving shift begins. I started prepping for the busy night. Cut lettuce, tomatoes, limes and lemons. Filled the cheese, butter, and sour cream. Made sure everything was ready to go.

At 4:30 p.m. I heard the bell that signals the first customers have walked through the door. I assumed it was an older couple, because they tend to eat dinner early.

“I’m going to need beer for fish batter,” the cook said.

Two hours passed and the dinner crowd began to flood in. I walked up to a table.

“May I get you started with something to drink?” I asked.

“Do you have Coke or Pepsi?” the customer replied.

“We have coke.”

“I will just take a water.

I then went to other tables to get more drink orders.

“Two cokes, three waters, sunlight, and a flirtini,” I sang to myself as I walk back to the kitchen.

After all my tables had their drinks, I started taking food orders. One table asked me a question concerning gluten-free appetizers. I let her know we have potato skins, but they are cooked in the fryer so, it just depends on how severe her allergy to gluten was.

“I am highly allergic, so that won’t work,” she said.

I proceeded on and took their dinner order, starting with the woman who had the gluten allergy.

“I will have the lime city sirloin, burnt, very well done,” she said. “And for my sides I will have green beans and the macaroni and cheese.”

I chuckle inside, smile, and go on to the next person at the table.

After that I stepped back to look over all of my tables. In my head, I go over the to-do list. I needed to make salads for table 101. Table 103 looked like they needed refills, and I still needed to take table 111’s order.

“I sat you six at 107 love,” my boss said.


Ok, I go take their drink orders, refilled drinks at my other tables, and start dinner orders from another.

“I will have the cobb salad, but light on the cobb,” a customer said.

I said alright and started writing it down. The table then began to laugh. I then forced a nervous laugh, because I didn’t get the joke, or maybe I just didn’t find it funny.

Back in the kitchen I had food up. As I read the ticket I realized I forgot to take their salads.


Hurry made salads, delivered them, ran back to the kitchen and took their food. As I handed out their dinner I apologized for not getting their salads out sooner, blaming the cook for being too quick tonight. Followed by some more fake laughter.

After that was over I noticed one of my tables had finished eating. I cleared their plates, and asked if there was anything else I could get for them.

“No thank you, just our carryout order and the check please,” they replied.


I rushed back to the kitchen and with a soft, sad voice I said the cooks name. He gave me a sharp annoyed look, knowing that good news was not about to come out of my mouth. I then proceeded to tell him the carryout order I had forgot to ring in along with 100 apologies.

Now another table finished eating.

“How was everything tonight?” I asked.

“Oh, it was just awful can’t you tell,” the customer replied as he handed me his squeaky, clean plate.

I move on, drinks, food, refill, clean and repeat for the next four hours.

Finally, the night came to an end. Silverware rolled, tables cleaned, and floors swept. I run my server report, take my cash, and go home. My shift was over, until tomorrow