Well, the great 2015 Blizzard of “epic” and “historic” proportions has come and gone and for those of us in New York City, it was pretty much a non-event. It could be “the biggest snowstorm in the history of this city,” Mayor Bill de Blasio said. “This could be a storm the likes of which we have never seen before…Don’t underestimate this storm… Prepare for something worse than we have seen before.” We were forecasted to get anywhere from 12” to 36” of snow but when I woke up this morning, it looked like the abominable snow man took a tiny little dump on the sidewalk and moved on. The TV weathermen have been frothing at the mouth with Blizzard Boners getting us all hyped up for something that didn’t happen and then today, they’re all, “Oopsie!” It got me to thinking. What if servers did their jobs like television weather forecasters? Can you imagine?
“Excuse me, waiter?” the woman at Table 12 screeches to her passing server. “I ordered the Grande Nachos about thirty minutes ago and you told me they would only take about ten minutes. Where ate they?” she wants to know.
The server walks over to a green screen positioned near the bar and adjusts his mic pack. After clearing his throat, he says, “Nachos Grande typically take about ten to twelve minutes to arrive to their final destination upon ordering, but because of a high pressure system connected to the micros printer that unexpectedly appeared in the kitchen, Nachos Grande had a sudden downturn and ended up taking longer to than usual. Predicting food times is not an exact science but we do the best we can. Back to you in the studio. Enjoy!” He steps down and walks away without a care in the world.
Ten minutes later Table 14 questions their draft beer on the table. “Ummm, I ordered a 16 ounce pint and they brought me my beer in a shot glass. What the fuck?”
The waiter adjusts his tie, smooths out his hair before and picks up a microphone responding. “Yes, I know, I know, I assured you that I would be bringing you 16 ounces of beer and that was my intent. In fact, I was pretty much positive that when I rang in a 16 ounce beer, I would get a 16 ounce beer for you, but as the atmospheric pressure adjusts within the beer taps, sometimes we have to modify what our predictions are and it looks like this time, you only got 3 ounces of beer. Pouring beer is not an exact science but we do the best we can. Hey, at least you got some beer, right? I told you were going to get beer and you got beer. Enjoy!”
Table 16 is waving her arms frantically for her server. It has been forty-five minutes since she ordered her medium-rare hamburger and it still isn’t at the table. Hungry and frustrated, she asks where her food is. Her server’s face falls into a sheepish grin and he answers her question.
“The fact is, ma’am, your burger did come out of the kitchen, it just isn’t here at your table. I had predicted that it would arrive at Table 16 when in fact it showed up ten feet due east and is currently being enjoyed by the man at Table 18. This was due to a confluence of air that blew your ticket onto the floor landing in a puddle of precipitation making the table number illegible. It sat in the window for approximately 15 more minutes creating a heat index of well-done. The extended outlook was that it would arrive at your table, but when the food runner finally found your check on the floor he saw the 16 and thought it was 18, therefore causing your food to take a direct turn to the east ending up at Table 18. Predicting which table food will go is not an exact science. Enjoy.”
Well, of course that would not work in the restaurant world. We are expected to do everything perfectly with no room for error and if we do make a mistake, then our customers will make sure to deduct from our tip to show us their dissatisfaction. Television weather forecasters don’t have to worry about that though. They can be wrong as fuck and they still get to go to their jobs without any consequences whatsoever. Must be nice.