Why My Hospitality Job is the Best Thing That’s Ever Happened to Me
Some of the best life lessons I’ve ever received have come from a stranger who made me cry.
As a hostess in a busy seasonal restaurant, part of my job is to accurately estimate wait times for walk-in tables. By surveying which courses guests are on, how long it usually takes to turn a table, and other factors, I can make a ballpark estimate of how long a party will wait to be seated.
One Monday this August, however, I miscalculated and ended up telling an already-grumpy couple that they would have to wait a half hour longer than I had previously guessed. Understandably, they were upset (No one likes it when their mom tells them dinner is ready only for it to take another hour, and the same principle applies).
I apologized profusely and assured them that I would do everything in my power to get them seated as soon as possible. Luckily, the servers and I made some adjustments, and the couple ended up sitting down only about five minutes after the time I had originally estimated. Still, I had started their evening on the wrong foot, and they now seemed determined to find fault with everything.
Within five minutes of sitting down, I watched the wife, whom we’ll call Ruth, eviscerate their server because we didn’t offer their preferred kind of still water. When their server — both incredibly kind and infamously hard to rattle — came back in tears, our manager stepped in, and Ruth’s yelling reached a new decibel.
Before the bread had even arrived, the couple was getting up. As they stormed out, Ruth marched right up to me, pointing her long acrylic nail perilously close to my face, and said (or screamed), “I’m going to leave a nasty f**king review. You should be ashamed of yourself. This is disgusting.” Aghast, I blinked for a moment and then burst into tears.
After recovering (a quick break for some fresh air and hugs with some fellow staff), I started to see the humor in the situation. Our interaction said everything about Ruth and nothing about me (except that the next time I see a table with a cheese board, I’ll remember they’re eating appetizers, not dessert!). Dealing with the Ruths of the world has actually done me a service, in two ways:
1. Compassionate Communication
The experience drove home the importance of compassion when communicating with others. When I’m in a restaurant and I feel myself getting annoyed (hangry, if I’m honest) because of a long wait time or an undercooked piece of meat, I’m cognizant of how my own response can influence the night of so many involved in the restaurant.
This lesson applied to much more than fine dining; in life, we inevitably face disappointments, and we have every right to address these issues in order to change them. What’s more important, however, is how we handle these problems. In other words, as cliche as it sounds, it’s now what you say but how you say it. Because of my restaurant experience, and dealing with rude people specifically, I have become a kinder and more compassionate person.
2. Reasonable Reacting
The other critical lesson I’ve learned from interacting with people like Ruth is that although I will always strive for compassion, I can’t be too bothered when others fail to do so. Shortly after the Ruth disaster, I vented to my dad. “I want to yell at her and tell her how embarrassing it is that she’s a middle-aged woman and is still making teenagers cry.”
He laughed, shook his head, and said simply: “You know, she has to wake up with herself every morning, and I bet that’s pretty hard.” As basic as that sentiment may sound, it’s true. Often, the worst punishment one can face for their actions is the gut feelings of guilt and shame.
Although Ruth was certainly the rudest person I’ve dealt with while working, there have been others and there will be plenty more. Each one of these negative interactions has helped me become better at my job, more secure in myself, less bothered by criticism, and kinder in general.
Of course, I don’t just love my restaurant job because I sometimes get yelled at — in fact, most people are lovely — but the most valuable skills I’ve gained from my job have been the ones that were most painful in the moment. So, if you want to become a better version of yourself and don’t mind some growing pains along the way, start sending résumés to your local restaurants today!