TIPPEDOFF

Sir Jables: I’ve been looking for a second job that would allow some flexibility of schedule. I applied for a server position with a local restaurant, and was hired. I start next Monday. The only thing is, I’m a little nervous because I’ve never really worked in a restaurant before. I’m not really sure how to talk to customers. Any advice? —Casey Dear Casey: I don’t know why folks overcomplicate this part of the job. These guests are simply people that walk in from off the st

Sir Jables: I cut into a $23.00 filet mignon at this restaurant my wife and I were eating at, and immediately realized it one of those pieced-together things they sell at the grocery store for a fraction of what real filets go for. When I sent it back, they didn't ask any questions, but, when the bill came it was still on there. I refused to pay and the owner stormed out and started yelling at me in broken Italian right there in the middle of the restaurant. My old lady and I

Sir Jables: Occasionally, a couple will come into the restaurant where I work, and sit on the same side of the table so they can make out for the entire restaurant to see. It’s tacky and gross. Why do you think some people feel compelled to do this? —Kara Dear Kara: You think that’s tacky and gross? Imagine how that vinyl booth cover feels. Also tacky and gross, I’d imagine. And I mean tacky and gross in the sticky sense. If you’re asking for reasons beyond them simply being

Sir Jables: Do you ever have that dream where you’re “in the weeds” at work? — DJ Dear DJ, Ahhh yes. That pesky little subconscious of ours, using our real-life stresses against us while we’re incapacitated by sleep, mutating them into mighty customer-krakens, impossible to defeat. I know that dream well. Even now, on the other side of my service-industry days, does it rear its ugly head and bring my present reality crashing down around me, as if I was a plate-spinner plagued

[Ed. note: Sir Jables' column is a day late this week because I dropped the fucking ball. Won't happen again.] Sir Jables: I wait tables at a casual-dining restaurant. A woman and her husband came in yesterday and she ordered a burger with a side salad (which is served on the same plate in our restaurant). She complained that the salad was on the same plate as the burger, so I had the items re-plated separately, which took all of 1 minute to do. When I returned she complained

Sir Jables: Do you think it’s ok to be high at work? -David Dear David, Sure. I’m working, and I’m high right now.

​​ Sir Jables: I’m a server at a very busy restaurant where there is limited space for servers to walk. This wouldn’t be such a problem if the parents who come in to eat with their children would keep their kids from running free around the restaurant, but some do not. It seems to be a growing issue. How should this be handled? Dear _______, Napalm. See, but that’s a one-word answer. And one-word answers to do not, a column, make. So I guess we have to delve deeper into th

Welcome to Ask Sir Jables: He Who Hath Waited Upon Life’s Tables. If you need to stumble a few steps back to take that title in, no one will fault you for it. In fact, it serves merely to prepare you for the column’s intrinsic glory, for which you will certainly stumble back from eternally. (Related side-note: ASJHWHWULT is best read while walking backwards on a treadmill. Your doctor says you need more cardio anyway because your best friend slept with your partner and you