If you work in the service industry you have them. You know what I mean.
Those dreams where you're working and your night starts off fine, maybe a little slow, even. You're bored, you're happy; you're thinking about what you'll do when you get cut early since it's slow. You put on suntan lotion while walking around outside today and the lingering smell reminds you that summer is finally here: it makes you feel like you're on vacation.
Then, all of a sudden the night picks up. Your section is full, as is that half section you're covering because it's Sunday and you're running on skeleton staff. You keep getting sat table after table -- "but I'll be fine," you think, "one big push I can handle. Then you glance at the clock and realize: it's on;y 7:40.
8 o'clock comes. You realize you might not make it through the night alive.
By 9:40 you've flipped your section three times -- the entire section, all ten tables -- and there is no end in sight. People keep streaming in the door and waiting -- actually waiting -- even though the manager tells them it will be at least 45 minutes for a table and the kitchen closes at 10:15. The kitchen has run out of pretty much everything. Every time you place an order, you have to go back to said table and tell them their chosen dish is all gone. Your bartender lost your last three drink tickets. And all five of the pens you came to work with have gone missing.
Sound familiar? Sound like a waitressing nightmare?
Well, that is exactly what happened at Toro tonight. Let's hope that stays in reality tonight, and that I can have some peace this evening when I sleep.