Ruined: Thoughts on Table Service

Eating out means less to me now than ever. The enjoyment has gone out of it for me indefinitely. I can't stop thinking about how the server feels. Leah and I decided that a woman should judge a good man not only by how he treats his mother, but by how he treats his serving staff. Incredible how some people will behave toward another person who is temporarily in their employ (i.e. a server). Is it a power trip which encourages a customer to behave so poorly to a server?

While talking to other servers today, an interesting observation came up: tips are higher when you mess something up. You can provide quality, timely service--running your feet off to get their drinks and food on the table, dishes off the table, next course on the table, dishes, check please, credit card receipt, "have a great evening!"--and receive a standard 18% tip.

But if you mess up an order--have to have it re-made, run it back for them, hand their food later than the rest of the table, forget to fill up their sodas for a long time, serve them potato salad instead of the requested linguini salad--then, the tip is more likely to exceed 20%. My serving colleagues inform me that this phenomenon is unique to our Isaac's.

Ask Me Why

Me: Becky, you're so good at asking insightful questions. You should ask me why I made two eggs just now.

Becky: Carolyn, why did you have to make two eggs just now?

Me: Why, I'm so glad you asked this! You see, I was only planning on making one egg. But then... A COCKROACH FELL INTO IT!

Becky: [stunned face] ...That's gross. Ew. That's gross.

Me: Sorry, but you asked.

The Un-cooling Process

It's hard to say what student teaching has been like.

It's been so many things. Really fun, mostly.

One of the reasons I wanted to become a teacher was because I had such a wretched time in high school. I felt like my teachers were just overly... safe! It's like they really didn't know how much of an adult I was, or how much challenge I could handle. Sometimes I heard a short speech on how we need fire drills, just in case; or a teacher would explain that no, we couldn't __________ (fill in blank) because someone might feel uncomfortable, a parent might not appreciate that, we hadn't cleared it with the principal, etc.

Now I'm on their end. Here and there, I can tell that it's growing me up. I plan and think with so much more in mind than what would be fun. Fire drills, for example: as a student, I had every confidence that I could safely exit the building that I knew better than my house before being engulfed in flames. But as a teacher, I wonder about the one or two new kids who don't know where the nearest exit is in some of their classes. And if that kid is in the bathroom when the alarm sounds, and he finds himself separated from the crowd, what then? We need fire drills.

A thousand-and-some thoughts like this pass through my head every day. And the result? I'm not so cool anymore. This is the un-cooling process.

Still, some people manage to keep just the right balance between making sense and making fun. Mr. Brett always comes to mind. How did he do it? He wasn't careless. But somehow we still managed to have doughnuts on Fridays and sit in a circle having meaningful discussion on very advanced readings... I'm talking learning: the real, good, fun, lasting-into-college, changed-the-way-I-write, changed-the-way-I-think!-type of learning.

Many of you have asked about my mentor/cooperating teacher. She's a great model for this type of learning. But even if I use the same lesson plan, the same words sometimes, it's not the same experience for the students.

So, we keep going.