Sunday, April 13, 2014

Not my job: Thoughts on the poor service at Tumbleweed on the River

When we received our stunningly lousy service at Tumbleweed on the River, I could have raised a terrible stink or left in a huff. I was actually leaning hard toward the latter, but allowed myself to be swayed by another member of the party. I did actually attempt to get the manager to come over, but that didn't happen. Yes, I could have insisted, but since we eventually got the service we wanted, it at least partially made up for the problem. In the middle of all of this, I could not help but study the situation as it was unfolding, and it reveals mind-boggling incompetence on multiple levels, all of which boil down to one simple problem: Every single individual working in that restaurant approached their jobs with a silo-ed attitude. As long as they focused on the one task assigned to them, nothing else mattered. Tumbleweed suffers greatly from Not My Job Syndrome.

Consider this: We were seated at a table that was assigned to a particular individual. That individual failed from the start by not approaching the table as soon as we were seated. During the time that we waited to be served, two or three other servers walked past our table many times, not once making eye contact with us or in any way acknowledging our presence in the establishment. Because it was not their job to do so.

After our server finally came over to take our drink and appetizer orders, a number of subsequent issues occurred that more fully illustrate this failure. We were supposed to be served chips and salsa after being seated. When our server returned to our table with our drinks, we still did not have those chips. At what point does a glimmer of light come on in that cave? one wonders. You'd think that would have prompted him to say, "Oh, I see you have no chips yet. I'll get right on that." But, no. Fetching the chips for restaurant diners is not his job.

The most colossally dumbfounding behavior that occurred was when someone emerged from the kitchen to plop a cup of queso in the middle of our empty table. Empty, as in, no chips. Well, Denise, dontcha think that'd make ya wonder fer just a second that maybe something was wrong?! (Okay, you really have to channel John C. McGinley's voice on that one for the true value.)

Once again, this employee quietly turned away and shambled back to the kitchen like the mindless, zombified slacker that he was.

So we continued to wait, and all the while, other servers were zipping past briskly to take care of their tables while our guy did his best impression of the INVISIBLE FUCKING MAN. I have to admit, he's very good at it. There could be a Broadway show in the works. "Holy shit! He just fucking disappeared on stage! How do they do that without digital effects?! It's fucking amazing!"

It wasn't until I electrocuted the young guy who was serving the table behind us, waking him from his Matrix-like slumber, that we were able to secure any service for a good half an hour. Unfortunately, his masters quickly saw that he'd gone off program and nipped that virus in the bud. Damn shame. He would've made a pretty good house slave.

When the Invisible Waiter finally came back as we were enjoying our meal, he was full of apologies about how he was just so terribly overworked. Jeez Louise! And I guess every other person in the joint was apparently just given the easiest shift in the history of restaurant work. All ya had to do was take two steps in our direction every now and again and say, "Hey, how's it going?" and then double over after the accidental kick to your friggin' coconut basket I so dearly wanted to deliver.

But I digress. It is clear from the way we were constantly ignored that everyone working at this establishment was completely incapable of thinking outside of that tiny little program they were fed. "Must serve table 3. Table 4 not look happy. Not my job. Serve table 3. Serve table 3."

Wake the fuck up, people! Who decided it was a good idea to learn how to do this work from Shitty Restaurant Management for Dummies?

Yeah, it shouldn't be Jane Schmoe's job to pick up Crappy Joe's slack, but at least Janey can walk over to Crappy and say, "Hey, you're doing a shitty job again," right?

You can be the best server in the history of restaurant servers, but if all you ever do is just the task you're assigned and nothing else, you're a shitty employee. Shitty. Say it with me: shitty.

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