Tell 'Em Why You Mad

See, I'm mad 'cause...

On Sundays, my manager usually lets me work by myself unless it's extra busy to allow me to make a little money by myself.  One of the barbacks (we'll call him Dallas 'cause he always wears a Cowboys jersey) helps me out (usually when I don't need it) if the line starts getting a little deep.  He makes drinks and gets tipped by the customers.  He does everything I do, except touch the register.  Yeah.  So as I'm working, completing orders from the customers as well as the waitresses, I have to answer The Shoulder Tap.

The Shoulder Tap means that I have to stop what I'm doing, input his customer's total into the register, take the money and count the change.  This wouldn't be a problem if I weren't being handed money, putting in totals and counting change for two other separate people at the same time.  

I don't understand.  If you can count and are clearly capable of doing my job, why don't you do it in its entirety?  Oh, I get it... so if the drawer aint right at the end of the night, they can only blame me.  And you get to skip off with my $20 tip-out that I owe you, no matter if you've been cutting into my tips the whole night by "helping" me when I DON'T NEED IT.  All you're doing is confusing me.

See, you got me mad, son, you got me mad.

And I was 'bout to be mad again this past Wednesday 'cause I was doing all the damn work and had to split the tips with my manager, who was just sittin' there, writing in her journal.  I understand, she's going through some things right now, so I wasn't too upset, but at the end of the night when it was time to count up the tip jars I made sure to count ours up separately so I could tell exactly how much more productive I had been in comparison.

Her tip jar total: $47

My tip jar total: $141  (ON A SLOW DAY!)

Yeah.  

But then she ended up throwing in $20 she made at the beginning of the day to even it out to $208 so we could each walk away with $104.  So then I wasn't mad anymore.

QUOTE OF THE NIGHT:

After I told this customer who tried to get me on stage that it wasn't gonna happen. 

"Everyone has their price."

Well, yeah... there's nothin' you can really say to that.