Morgan Is A Waiter

George Orwell, in Down and Out in Paris and London, wrote some of truest words about the restaurant industry. Obviously, there are dubious statements, many chefs prefer female cooks, and not everyone is a total d-bag. And yet the essence is still there:

What keeps a hotel going is the fact that the employees take a genuine pride in their work, beastly and silly though it is. If a man idles, the others soon find him out, and conspire against him to get him sacked. Cooks, waiters and plongeurs differ greatly in outlook, but they are all alike in being proud of their efficiency.

Undoubtedly the most workmanlike class, and the least servile, are the cooks. They do not earn quite so much as waiters, but their prestige is higher and their employment steadier. The cook does not look upon himself as a servant, but as a skilled workman; he is generally called 'un ouvrier' which a waiter never is. He knows his power--knows that he alone makes or mars a restaurant, and that if he is five minutes late everything is out of gear. He despises the whole non-cooking staff, and makes it a point of honour to insult everyone below the head waiter. And he takes a genuine artistic pride in his work, which demands very great skill. It is not the cooking that is so difficult, but the doing everything to time. Between breakfast and luncheon the head cook at the Hotel X would receive orders for several hundred dishes, all to be served at different times; he cooked few of them himself, but he gave instructions about all of them and inspected them before they were sent up. His memory was wonderful. The vouchers were pinned on a board, but the head cook seldom looked at them; everything was stored in his mind, and exactly to the minute, as each dish fell due, he would call out, 'faites marcher une cotelette de veau' (or whatever it was) unfailingly. He was an insufferable bully, but he was also an artist. It is for their punctuality, and not for any superiority in technique, that men cooks are preferred to women.

The waiter's outlook is quite different. He too is proud in a way of his skill, but his skill is chiefly in being servile. His work gives him the mentality, not of a workman, but of a snob. He lives perpetually in sight of rich people, stands at their tables, listens to their conversation, sucks up to them with smiles and discreet little jokes. He has the pleasure of spending money by proxy. Moreover, there is always the chance that he may become rich himself, for, though most waiters die poor, they have long runs of luck occasionally. At some cafes on the Grand Boulevard there is so much money to be made that the waiters actually pay the Patron for their employment. The result is that between constantly seeing money, and hoping to get it, the waiter comes to identify himself to some extent with his employers. He will take pains to serve a meal in style, because he feels that he is participating in the meal himself.

I was recently promoted to "server" at the very fine restaurant at which I toil. This is, as Mr. Orwell so rightly pointed out, a totally different world. A cook is a craftsman. A chef is a leader and organizer. As a cook, you quickly learn the correct and incorrect way of doing things. Whenever you fail to live up to your potential you should and do feel like an asshole. If the chicken is over cooked, or the steak is undercooked, you're an asshole. You're only as good as your last dish.

A waiter, on the other hand...
What is a waiter, and what do you want out of him? For me, I prefer a waiter who does his job well, while still being friendly. I don't care how much personality you have, if you don't bring me shit when I want it, I really couldn't care less. Am I waiting a long time for a drink? Do I need more water? Where's the bread? Obviously, I try to be friendly and wise, punctual, attentive and useful.
You rarely, rarely, rarely, hear a cook talk about money. Unless it's "I spent so much money at the bar last night, I'm staying home today." Or, "If I had a little more grip I would..." When it comes to the front of the house, the amount of money made or not made is on everyone's lips. I account for this with several reasons: Obviously, a waiter's income is more closely tied to the amount of money the restaurant is making. Also, receiving money in cash every day makes you wonder what you're going to walk out with. In my case it makes me wonder how many drinks I can have (or buy) at the bar. Furthermore, there are very few people in America today who want to be waiters for the rest of their lives. Bartenders, maybe. Most waiters are in it just for that reason: the money. For many, to be a waiter today is to say "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing but I need some money." (Excepting waiters who are angling to be restaurateurs, a thought with which I comfort myself) I fall smack dab into the middle of this category (professionally lost) and I don't like it one bit.

My transition has me wondering not just what the fuck I'm doing professionally, but also what sort of man I want to be...
Am I selling my soul for a hell of a lot more money and a new challenge?