Wait-y issues

A server turned writer reveals much about restaurants and their patrons

(ryan mcvay/getty images)

He is known simply as The Waiter, the anonymous server/writer behind the popular blog Waiter Rant. What is known: He worked at an Italian restaurant he called "The Bistro," it was located somewhere in New York, and he did not always love his job. Now The Waiter has a new book out based on the blog. "Waiter Rant: Thanks for the Tip - Confessions of a Cynical Waiter" is on sale Tuesday. It offers an irreverent, insightful look inside the industry (complete with blurb from Anthony Bourdain). We spoke with The Waiter about the book, the highs and lows of restaurant life, and waiters' many deep, dark secrets.

Q. How did the blog and then this book come to be?

A. I was working in a New York area restaurant. Two years into it, maybe three, I was pretty fed up. I didn't have health insurance, so psychotherapy would have been too expensive. I got a blog and started writing. One thing led to another.

Q. What's the best thing about being a waiter?

A. Sleeping late. Seriously. And at the end of the day you get your money. You could walk out with 300, 400 bucks.

Q. I'd imagine high-maintenance diners are pretty high on the list of worst things about being a waiter.

A. Twenty percent of diners are psychopaths. The rest just want to go out to eat. But people walk in on a Saturday night, the place is packed, they have no reservations, and they say, "I want the best table in the house. I'm friends with the owner. Make it happen." I'd have people slam the door, make a scene. You are a servant when you're a waiter, but you're not a slave.

Q. You almost became a priest, then worked in mental health before becoming a waiter. Did that training come in handy?

A. One thing that helped me wait tables was that nothing in a restaurant will ever compare to what happened to me working in a psychiatric hospital. A waiter becomes a blank slate. People project all of their craziness onto you, like they would onto their therapist.

Q. Do servers retaliate for bad behavior? You always hear about the waiter who spits in the jerk's food.

A. Yeah, sure. I don't remember witnessing it at The Bistro. But I've heard all kinds of horror stories about someone hocking a loogie in some guy's food. I don't think it's kosher. But I understand it.

Q. How did you exact revenge?

A. Telling you your credit card has been declined when it hasn't to embarrass you. I did that all the time. Sticking you next to the men's room. Putting regular in your decaf. People would say to me, "If I wake up at 2 in the morning, I'm gonna find out where you live and get you." The minute they said that you just wanted to give them regular coffee.

Q. I'm a little bit horrified right now. What other waiter activities are diners unaware of?

A. The double tip. Most restaurants, if you have six or eight or more people, will automatically tack a gratuity on the bill. So you have a $100 bill, and then I add 18 percent, so now you're billed 118 bucks. What the waiter does is flip over the itemized side of the check, write "$118" on the back, and circle it. The customer doesn't notice half the time, and they tip on top of the tip. Now instead of making 18 bucks, you made like 40 bucks.

Q. If diners want to avoid the loogie hockers of the world, what should we do?

A. Numero uno is be polite. Look at me when I talk to you, don't talk on your cellphone when I'm telling you the specials, don't hand me your kid's dirty diaper.

Q. Any other general advice?

A. Don't eat out on Saturday nights and holidays. We used to call that amateur night. It's crowded and busy; the owner wants to turn tables and make as much money as he or she can. You feel the pressure. The kitchen is cooking faster and not doing it as well. Go on a Wednesday or a Thursday, when the fish comes in.

Q. How about tipping?

A. I love 20 [percent]. I will never pooh-pooh 15. As long as it's in that range, that's fine. If you really want the waiter to like you, 20 percent is the magic number.

Q. Are there different kinds of tippers?

A. There are the verbal tippers, they're the worst. They're the ones who say, "Good job! You're the best waiter I've ever had!" You can't pay the rent with that. There are the accountant types, who know the tip to the penny. They'd split it and one guy would leave $7.50, the other would tip $7.49. Foreigners, that's tricky if they're from a country where tipping is not established. We'd be like, "Uh oh, English people." Old people can be tricky. "Here's a nickel, sonny." But how can you get mad at an 85-year-old?

Q. Can you tell how someone will tip just by eyeballing the person?

A. Definitely. You leave 20 percent. I can hear it in your voice.

Q. Bingo. So what's the deal with waiters recommending their own personal favorites from the menu? Is that just pushing something the kitchen wants to get rid of?

A. I've listened to chefs tell me to sell the fish because it's going bad. I wouldn't do it: That's your problem. You don't know how to order. If you usually move 100 orders of sea bass but get 300 because it's on sale, guess what, now they're going bad.

Q. How does a customer know she's eating in a bad restaurant?

A. The biggest sign is a filthy bathroom. If there's no-frills toilet paper, that's bad. Another sign is that it's empty, and the owner and chef are staring out the window with tears in their eyes. If there aren't enough waiters, or if you go to a restaurant more than once and see different waiters every time. Turnover is very high, and service is going to [stink].

Q. What changes in customer behavior have you noticed over the years?

A. They've gotten much more educated. That's the legacy of the Food Channel and cooking shows. They've stopped asking basic questions. They know what a bearnaise sauce is, a roux. Their wine knowledge has increased. I also think people have become more entitled. They want every meal in a restaurant to be the most orgasmic experience of their lives. They are invariably disappointed.

Q. Do you think you'll ever go back to waiting tables? Isn't it like smoking, where it could just suck you back in at any time?

A. It's as addictive as crack cocaine. You know it's there. It's like girls saying "I can always work in a strip club." It's that same last-ditch, horrible thing.