Sundae Disaster

     It was the summer of 1995.  I just finished off my senior year at Grandville High School and I was getting ready to attend Grand Valley State University in the fall.  I ended up getting a new job as a waitress at a popular chain restaurant in western Michigan.  I am not going to reveal the name of this restaurant as they are still in business and well respected in the area.  I still enjoy their great food and delicious pies, especially my personal favorite, rhubarb pie. 

     It started out as a great place to work.  The servers had a set schedule to work during the week.  It made it easy for those who were moonlighting other jobs.  Breakfast and dinner staff never intertwined.  If a server worked Friday then they would have Saturday off and next weekend the server would work Saturday and have Friday off.  The restaurant was closed Sundays.  The schedule was fair to all.  On occurances if someone needed their time off they would post a note on a bulletin board in the break room.  Servers wanting more hours can look at the board and pick up other server's hours.  It worked out quiet nice. 

     Upon my hiring I told my manager that on Thursday nights that he had me scheduled I would have to change it because I was already scheduled to have an evening class Thursday nights.  He was wonderful about it and said when the time got closer that we would be able to switch it around.  I was thrilled working there with a set schedule and a great staff.  I waitressed at a previous restaurant, Apple Blossom Family Restaurant, and I really enjoyed it. 

     During my break, one day, I was in the mood for a bowl of cheesy broccoli soup.  I went to another waitress to ring up my order. 
 
     "You don't want a bowl."  she replies back to me.
    
     I give her a strange look, "Yes, I do."  I say politely yet firmly back.
 
     "Trust me, " she says, "Let me ring you up a cup of soup then I will show you why."

     She leads me over to where the soups are kept.  Several keg style containers held a variety of soups.  The waitress dips the ladel in the cheesy broccoli soup and pours it into my cup.  It filled the cup.

     "Now watch this."  she says.  She dips the same ladel into the soup and pours it into the bowl.  It fills up that as well.  "The presentation of it plays with your mind.  The cup is smaller but taller than the bowl whereas the bowl is wider giving the impression of having more."

     I was shocked by the revelation.  How sneaky!  I wondered how many other restaurants do that same trick.  From then on in my life when I order soup I order the cup, never a bowl.

     Things were going smoothly for a few more weeks until one weekend night.  It must of been a hot evening because the customers who were coming in were wanting sundae's.  Part of our job as a waitress was to make the sundae's.  I have never been good at scooping ice cream.  It's cold and hard and if you don't watch your grip your scoop can go flying across the room.  Somehow as I scoop, the back of my hand would touch the sides of the container getting the back of my hands all full of ice cream.  I just didn't like the added mess.  But scooping was part of the job so I didn't mind it too much having to scoop now and then.

     I had two masterpiece large hot fudge sundae's on a tray that I was about to take out.  The 3 scoops of ice cream was layered with hot fudge, topped with whipped cream, nuts and a cherry placed perfectly on top.  It was so beautifully made that it should of been a picture.  I pick up the tray and begin to take it out.  The manager comes around the corner and stops me looking concerned. 

     "Did you measure those sundae's?"  he asks.

     "Measure?  I didn't know we had to weigh them."  I replied back. 

     He lead me back over to the dessert station and in the back corner he pulls out a small scale.  He places one of the sundae's on the scale.  It was way over the recommended weight for the sundae's.  He told me to give these sundae's to the dishwashers to eat and he would show me how to make a sundae within the recommended weight.  He drops two small scoops of ice cream into the tall dessert glass.  He drizzles a scoopful of the hot fudge over the top and lightly adding the whipped cream, nuts and cherry.  He places the sundae back on the scale.  It was the recommended weight.  It was sad looking.  All the sundae pieces were within the sides of the glass.  It was nothing like picture perfect.  I would be disappointed if I was served this.  But he made me serve it anyway.  With a sad heart I delivered my pitaful sundae's. 

     Shortly later another table orders sundae's, both large and small.  I was annoyed how the small and the large sundae held the same amount of scoops yet I had to make it look like the large had more.  Sure enough as I was about to serve them the manager comes around the corner and wanted to see the weight on my sundae's.  It was still over the recommended weight.  This time he wanted me to give them to the cooks and do it again.  I was getting very frustrated over this.  I did like he said but I guess my scoops held more than his did. 

     More and more tables were ordering sundae's.  It seemed like a cruel joke.  I just couldn't get them right.  The manager was getting more and more upset with me.  When a customered ordered them I would wait to make them until I knew the manager was either in the back room harrassing someone else or on the floor checking up on other tables.  I was about it tears.  At one point I had to grab another waitress to make them for me because I didn't want to get yelled at again.  She left them on the counter for me.  I grabbed my tray and the sundae nazi of a manager came around the corner.  He looked at my sundae's.  I looked back at him with a confident smile since I knew they had to of been right since the other waitress made them for me.  He picked one up and placed it on the scale.  It was over by a few ounces.  He told me to make them again.  Seriously?  A few ounces over!  I was ready to toss the sundae at him.  At one point I was so nervous making the sundae's that as I was delivering them to an elderly couple the tall glass tipped over and accendently dropped one in the lap of the elderly gentleman.  I was so shocked.  I never dropped anything before and of course it had to be on this day with the hot fudge sundae.  I offered to pay for their desserts and I went back to make another one for him.  I wanted to crawl into a hold after that moment. 

     After when customers were through eating I would stop asking them for dessert.  I purposely was rude to customers and not go back to check on them because I didn't want them to order sundae's.  I would walk by acting like I was extremely busy and place their check's down on the table.  I just wanted my hellish night of sundae making to be over with.  Some customers just came in for dessert and I would cringe when they would order the sundae's.  I wanted to tell them that the sundae's were not impressive, that they were lacking in every which way but I couldn't.  I wanted to let them know that they would be disappointed in my sundae's as the manager made me make them look pitiful and not delicious looking like the picture in the menu.  Then I would turn and enter the kitchen of doom to prepare their lousy dessert. 

     The night finally ended and I was more than glad to go home.  I don't think that manager ever bothered me about the desserts ever again.  I don't know if he was having a bad day and taking it out on me or what his deal was that night.  I just let it go and put that bad day behind me. 

     College was starting up soon and I talked with him about changing my schedule around like he promised when I first signed up to work at the restaurant.  He changed his story around and said it was my responsibility to find someone to work my shift.  I was upset by that.  I asked around but servers either needed that day at home or they worked another job and couldn't do it.  That Thursday afternoon, when I knew my manager would be there, I called in and said I wouldn't be coming anymore.  He asked me why.  I told him my class was more important and I couldn't find anyone to switch a day with him.  He was upset with me.  I reminded him what he said when he first hired me and he tried to apologize but it was too late.  It was time for me to move on and start another chapter in my life.