Life Lessons from a Rustic Tea Room

 

The common waiter or waitress can be found in any small tea-room, public eating or drinking places, or restaurants in the locality of Hilton/Pietermaritzburg. While a natural inhabitant of the area, it must be remembered that all of these servers, for so we shall henceforth call them, are not naturally thus, and many will become a server as a primitive rite of passage, or initiation into what is known as Adult Life. Sightings of these creatures are not rare in this area, and it is not uncommon for the youngster fresh from highschool to sight a Commonly Spotted Server at any local café, and recognise them from former schooldays. Personally, we avoid these places.

All servers are endowed with a friendly disposition. There are no exceptions. None whatsoever that have been noticed or recorded by the clientele, that is. Of course we cannot vouch for the mysterious life of this species, but we cannot imagine it to be any different. It is common knowledge that servers have no life other than serving your every whim.

While it is a great event to have been conducted through this rite of passage, to remain in this standing, however, is a gross humiliation in their culture. Never presume to assume that this stage of their development is a permanent arrangement--or risk offending their fragile dispositions. A kindly treated and gently handled server is compliant, happy and willing to please you. They will arrange matters behind the scenes so as to be of least inconvenience to yourself. It comes as a surprise to everyone unfamiliar with them, but minding one's P's and Q's are taken as a sign of great respect in their primitive minds, and it is remarkable the effects this can yield.

Taking its own dignity very seriously, offence given by you to a server can be detrimental to your daily enjoyment of life. As previously stated, servers are seldom without ambition and view this capacity as strictly temporary and on an as-needed basis. To assume otherwise is dangerous to your health. On this subject, be aware that the server lists serving you as a plight, and an intrusion on an otherwise quiet moment of communicating with its peers (via an electronic device considered to be indispensable: the server culture values highly the art of communication), intellectual exercise (reading), daydreaming (a common pastime). Therefore, oblige it with the requisite amount of consideration and courtesy, knowing that all your requests must be processed by a creature who is working hard to be smiling and on its feet all day.

It is necessary to note at this juncture that this particular status is in fact a trying one, as, in order to be a good server, the poor specimen is subjected to daily tortures, which most days, seldom seem to balance it's (in many cases) slight remuneration. Many are subjected to the playing of incessant music, often a CD of 'elevator music' (so simple you are familiar with the entire thing immediately, and whose music, if original and pretty at first, soon loses that initial charm and gives way to grotesque, sickening, maddening dislike) which is played again, and again and again during the day, and incessantly throughout the week. Again, and again, and again, over and over and over.  

Yes, pity the creature whose name is bandied about like a swearword, and summoned with no more ado; who must listen to you gossip at the expense of your best friend who is not there, or complain (oh, the complaints!) with a fervour that enlivens rather than tires, about the state of the country, the petrol prices and the electricity bill; who must wait, patient and smiling while you agonise whether cakes fit into your diet or not ("oh, no, I really shouldn't") and hear you always consent at last ("oh, it's so wicked of me; but it's your birthday; but I've been so good lately; but it's a special occasion; but it's a weekday"); who is threatened with no tip if their recommendation does not take the client's fancy; who must endure the same jokes about the dish ("this wrap is unwrapped?" [Does it? I'd never even noticed! Do you mean to say that I've worked here all this time, and EACH time I took one out it was UNWRAPPED? Great Scott! why didn't somebody say so?]); and who must explain the quiche of the day to every person who can't read past "the quiche of the day is:"; and who must explain the purpose of a menu to those who inquire "what drinks do you have?"

Finally, it is important to note that this species, whatever their faults, are incredibly observant. While you agonise over whether you should or shouldn't, being privy to the goings on in the kitchen, and rather inclined to being judgemental, they could tell exactly where you shouldn't, being all too familiar with the category of female who come in for "skinny" cappucinos and add to this a large helping of cake lathered with cream. Or those who claim to be health conscious and choose something that is deep friend in oil, or cooked in cream, and then feed their "beerboeps", or smoke. Then there are those who come in from cycling excercise for the week and drown their pantings in chocolate milkshakes or hot chocolates. From the mere way you swipe the bill, or listen to what is on the menu, the server already forms an opinion of you. In the non-server community, this may be seen as uncalled for prejudice, however, what is rather unnerving, is that these opinions are correct. They have an uncanny knack to tell a likeable comrade from a disagreeable acquaintance, they can decipher the nuances which indicate happy marriages, terrible jobs, imminent couples and parents who will someday realise they have raised a rebellious, irresponsible teenager (or worse--like a plague upon mankind).

If you are looking for life advice, forget the horoscope and the fortune-tellers. Your most accurate bet would be to ask your local server, because they know all about you.