I heard "Honey White" by Morphine today. That song forever takes me back to my days in Atlanta, playing in my band and waiting tables. Waiting tables was a big pocket of cash every night, too much drinking and hooking up, and some of the best laughs. I met some great people from all walks of life: gay, jock, cheerleader, bodybuilder, stoner. We worked in such close quarters, we had to get along. The place was always full of drama, but the drama was what kept us coming back.
I had a lot of pride in my table waiting; more than in many other aspects of my working life. The managers always gave me the good sections, and assigned new waitstaff to follow me during their training.
My server secrets: I often wore the same pants, aprons and even white shirts for days, until they stank or were covered with food.
I was just swallowing something from the kitchen as I walked up to your table.
I was sleeping in the next room 2 minutes before I walked up to your table.
In the kitchen, I was defending those shrimp you ordered from passers by. If I wasn't there, you would have 2 left by the time I served your dish.
If you tip poorly, not only does the waiter remember it, they tell the next waiter who serves you when you return. But it's not what you think; you will get the same service, we just like to know these things so we aren't trying to figure out why you didn't tip properly.
Spitting on food. I waited tables for 7 or 8 years, and I know of only one time this happened. And the server regretted doing it. He was the most easy-going person in the restaurant, but some customers know how to push. (FYI, don't show off to your date buy making fun of the waiter).
There was one time that a server said if one more customer was an asshole, he was going to quit. Sure enough, some guy was a jerk about something, so the waiter sat down at an empty table, next to the guy (and his date), and started doing his nightly checkout. The guy asked him what he was doing. The server said, "I don't work here anymore, you need to speak to your server." The server was ex-Navy; everybody has their limit, I guess.
bitterwaitress.com - home of the shitty tipper database, and many war stories.
Rio Bravo on wikipedia. My first real waiter job. They are all gone now, like Chichi's. There must be a shelf life to fake Mexican restaurants.