Toss Your Cookies

It has come to my attention that WaiterRant’s site statistics are less than transparent. To remedy that situation I have decided to make those statistics public. Click on the StatCounter “counter.” Type “reader” into both the username and password fields and your in!...

Five Inches

The service bar in my bistro is a cramped cluttered affair – jammed into a corner next to the coffee machine. Ten varieties of vodka compete with gin and wine bottles for space. Whenever you grab the tequila you risk knocking several bottles to the floor. I’m...

Burying the Dead

I’m sitting in the Irish pub after work hoisting a few pints with my fellow server Beth. You remember her. She’s the one that was still wearing Underoo’s when I graduated college. The beer and the conversation flow freely. “When I was in the third grade I was mauled...

Pale Moon Rising

The woman on table sixteen is a forty year old, slightly drunk, voluptuous peroxide blond. And her ass is halfway out of her pants. Leaning forward in animated conversation she’s oblivious that her backside is sliding out of her jeans. I can’t help but notice it’s a...

New Guy

I’m training a couple of new waiters. I forget their names. Actually, I don’t want to know their names. They probably won’t last long. Being a waiter is like being a soldier in combat. Veterans don’t want get to know the green recruit. They’re going to get blown...

Waiter Rant meets Roadhouse

I’ve only had to physically throw out one customer in all my time as a waiter. The guy at Clublife gets to do it every night! An entertaining blog about a bouncer in NYC. Go read!

Not Getting Any

Twice a week Mr. Escher comes into the bistro to get takeout for his wife. Twice a week I get to hear how much he hates her. “Are you married?” Mr. Escher asks me while paying for his order. “No sir. I’m not.” “Good. Never get...

Gay Reality TV

Louis and I are back by the soda machine shooting the shit. “Check this out,” Louis says, “Did you hear of that new gay TV network that’s starting up? “I heard something about it,” I reply “Well they called me.” “Really? Why?” “My twentieth high school reunion is next...

Gringo Shit

It’s Sunday and we’re mad busy. Fluvio’s home sick so I’m left with the keys to the kingdom. The waiters are all working doubles. The “who gets to go home first” begging ritual is in full swing. “Oh man I am so tired,” Shlomo says to me. “You can have the rest...