Slave Labor

Most restaurants in NYC do not offer paid training, which is illegal. My current job did not pay me for training, and it scared the hell out of me because I have had other jobs where I trailed a server or did their work for them and still did not get the job.

One restaurant in particular screwed me over quite badly (Pranna in the Flatiron District). The manager interviewed me quickly and hired me immediately. I was so excited, as I had been looking for work for months to no avail.I trailed the servers for 3 days. I learned how to detail their fancy fucking place settings. I memorized the menu and table numbers. When I messed up, I was berated by the bitchy sons of bitches that are the managers there in front of the rest of the staff. I would come home each day a nervous wreck, scrambling to remember the menu.

On day 4, I came in to train. I started doing the ridiculous detailing at their fancy fucking tables. Making sure that each table aligned PERFECTLY. Making sure that each knife was directly across from the space between the two forks. Making sure place mats were evenly aligned against the edges of tables. Sweating bullets, making sure I did everything correctly. Then one of the managers called me over. "Waitress," he told me, "I want you to serve me and Ashley this bottle of wine as if I were a customer." Ashley was one of the waitresses who trained me. She wasn't exactly friendly. I was so nervous. I had no experience serving wine and had not been asked about that during the interview. I clumsily attempted to open the bottle of wine. My hands were shaking, my palms were sweaty. I could barely manage to open that damn bottle of wine.

"Waitress, that was atrocious," he stated with disgust in his voice. "The way you hold that bottle is just awful." Ashley stared at me blankly, but I could have sworn I saw a slight smirk on her face. "What am I supposed to do? You're a nice girl. Maybe you should look for a job in a diner or something." I had the feeling that he thought that Applebee's was more my speed. I started to break down and cry. I ran to one of the disgusting employee bathrooms and bawled my eyes out. I finally thought I had a job, and just like that it's gone. I cried for a good 10 minutes before I had the courage to go back out there. He tried to talk to me some more, but I wasn't hearing it. Hyperventilating, I told him, "I guessES I wuh-will g-g-g-get mah-ah-ah-my things eh-eh-and leave." I ran down to the office where  Payal, one of the owners, calmy typed up something on the computer, completely ignoring me. I grabbed my things and left. Like a scene from a bad movie, it was pouring outside. I was grateful, as I could hide my crying face under my umbrella and no one would see it. I took a taxi home and went to sleep.

Those three days I worked for that hellhole were for free. While they gave another more experienced waiter tax forms to fill out from the start, they didn't give me shit. I should have known. I guess karma is a bitch, because now those bitches have a lawsuit against them for doing similar things to their employees like not paying overtime, etc. The restaurant business is such an abusive one. I wish as employees we would stand up for ourselves more often and get treated the way that we deserve to. For my own reasons, I did not join in on the lawsuit. But I wish I could have.