The Card

Generally I try to focus on tips on how to be a better server, a better manager, or just my random musings on the industry when I sit down to write for this blog.  I made it a point when I started this blog to never become another server writing about how annoying his guests were.  I have always avoided it. This one is too good though.

When in the course of human event it becomes necessary for one blogger to dissolve the ethical bands which has connected him to his guests and to assume among the powers of the blogosphere, that separate and equal station to which the laws of serving and the server’s god entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of all servers requires that they should declare the guests which impel them to the separation.

I do not paraphrase Thomas Jefferson lightly.  Last night something so incredibly mind blowing was handed to me that I feel I would be doing a disservice by not sharing it.  With that in mind, I bring you the story of “the card.”

I have been handed any number of things over the years from tables.  Phone numbers business cards, and even the occasional room key.  I have been asked about joining every network marketing business and religion known to man.  I take them all with a smile.  If they leave over 20%, I will even read it.  This however puts all of them to shame.

I approach a table to great them.  One of the three people responds and asks for an iced tea.  When I went to school “iced tea” was not considered an adjective or a proper response to “how is everyone this evening?”  Gave me the read on the table though so I moved on.  I look to the two gentlemen with her and the older one pulls out of his wallet a card. He hands it to me without saying a word.  The other gentleman at the table points to the card and holds up two fingers.  I look down and see this:

The back of the card

The card as it was handed to me

Now my first response instinctively was “wow we think very highly of ourselves don’t we?”  As I moved away from the table, I began to think that maybe he was deaf.  That would justify getting such cards printed up.  I mean it would be troublesome as a deaf drinker to order such a detailed drink.  I decided to cut him some slack.  Until I turned it over and saw the other side.

You see I have seen cards like this before.  Rather pompous, but if you got a stack of them from a bar pushing Ketel One I can see using them on occasion.  That would not be blog worthy.  It would be the kind of thing you snicker about in the side station.  This was most certainly better than that.  I turn the card over and it has the guys name (matched the credit card he paid with) his email, his phone number, and his cell phone number.  It also had his picture.  This picture turned a tediously slow night at the restaurant into a wonderful evening in which his table received many fly bys.

For those of you not familiar with the concept of a “fly by” let me explain.  A fly by occurs when a server informs their fellow servers that a table is notable enough to go out of your way to walk by and look at.  Fly bys can be for a number of reasons.  Excessive cleavage, tacky t-shirts, potential hooker dates, definite hooker dates, or any number of other things can merit a fly by.  You generally learn to judge from knowing the personality of your coworkers what the fly by will consist of.  Seldom is the reason for the fly by mentioned in advance.  It is simply stated “42 3.”  From there you know that table 42 seat 3 has something to see.  The seat number allows you to map your route for the best angle of approach.  Fly bys are much different than “crop dusting”, but that is another topic for another blog.

So have I teased the picture long enough?

I thought for a while about whether or not to post the card.  I assume though that if it was handed to me, it is not a big secret.  I also assume that its intended target was not a straight male server, but a cute cocktail waitress.  I will let him remain anonymous, but this is too good not to share.

The Card

The Card

I will leave the comments to all of you.

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