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That’s What She Said

The title of this post seems fitting to what happens in a restaurant on a daily basis.  We harass the crap out of each other.  (Allegedly.)  The fact that a place wants to cover their ass in case someone files a sexual harassment suit is understandable, but handing out a handbook with the title “Sexual Harassment Training” is telling us that it’s a book to teach us how to sexually harass our co-workers, and we are going to take advantage of it.  Because a restaurant is not complete without sexual harassment.

There’s really not a day that goes by where somebody finds a way to use the “that’s what she said” line.  It’s almost second nature.  It’s a great way to make any conversation that much better, take a jab at somebody, and keep you on your toes.  (That’s what she said.)

And it never fails that after a seminar for sexual harassment, the sexual harassment level rises exponentially for the next week.  Because it’s on our minds.  I think it would be weird if that didn’t happen.  I’m not saying that restaurant workers go around and draw inappropriate pictures on all of the walls, (allegedly,) but we have been known to slap an ass here and there, just to let a co-worker know that they’ve done a good job.  And that’s just the girls.

The kitchen staff are one of the worst offenders of this, and it’s hilarious!  A bunch of men doing everything but touch each other inappropriately can provide hours of entertainment on slow nights in a restaurant.

It’s almost like sports, except we’re at a place that’s not as fun… or actually fun at all.  That’s how we make it fun.  If your favorite restaurant has a happy staff, chances are the sexual harassment is running high and they are all making comments that the Human Resources Director would have to cover his ears and run away.

So thanks for the manual.  I will be referencing it on a daily basis and probably adding some techniques of my own or ones that I think of down the line.  (Allegedy.)  Rest assured, no one has been harmed by this blog post, rather, it was encouraged.  And if you’re sitting in my section, and I catch your eyes gazing at other parts of my body and not up at my face, then I know you’ve approved of this post yourself.  

Until next time… Server’s don’t pay their rent with compliments.

“Bitter.  Party of 1?  Your table is ready.”

The Bitter Bistro

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