Tag Archives: customer service


Registered Marriage Celebrant

Today is the last day of 2017. A time of reflection.

My year has been one of amazement. I am amazed I have survived. I am amazed my family have survived. There have been times where I would have liked to stab Dear Husband in the eye with a fork. There are many mornings where Girl Child 9 and Boy Child 6 have copped an earful of swearing fit for a pirate ship. But for the most part we have had a good year.

I look back on  posts such as Cows, God and Lego and I realise that I was on a journey that I hadn’t consciously chosen at the time of writing. In this post I wrote of forbidden opinions never to be said out loud. Lucky I wrote them down.

I wrote that it is great to have ceremonies for births, deaths and marriages it helps people cope. I am unsure if this blog post helped me to tread my new path, or whether my subconscious had already begun treading it. Regardless, I am now a Civil Celebrant who can perform these rituals.

What else have I learned by reading my past blogs?

  1. Sometimes I am too gutless to publish my posts. I have 4 drafts sitting unpublished. Perhaps I am not gutless but trying to please everyone which has prevented me from spewing my opinions on the world. Either way, I have sat on my hands with these 4 and saved you from reading them.
  2. I really like good customer service. I really do. I have had minimal arguments with my DH this year. The one’s we have had have been about his embarrassment that I am not afraid to speak my mind when expecting exemplary customer service. He would prefer to shut up and be fed shit. I would prefer to speak up and be treated like I should be.
  3. I am a product of the 70’s. However I am rather judgemental of people who smoke whilst people are eating or anywhere else that they shouldn’t (in 2017). Don’t get me wrong, I love the odd dart. In fact I am secretly inhaling DH’s second hand fumes as I type, wishing it was my mouth on the other end of that butt.
  4. I am passionate about Boobs. No, I don’t go around perving on them, but if you wish to flash those puppies in public go right ahead. I will cop a feel for you if you are unsure of a potential lump, because that’s what friends do. Please check your boobs ladies, this shit saves lives.
  5. Accept the things you cannot change. Back in January I wrote about grieving those who still walk the planet. My heart has healed somewhat since I wrote this post, but the scar is still a little itchy. I have no control over the situation, therefore I must Let it Go.
  6. Menopause is a force to be reckoned with. The hardest part was realising that I was a nasty bitch and nobody liked me (OK, that is a bit harsh on self), another thing was finding out how it affects my health. Getting the balance right comes down to diet and self management, both of which I seem to have a handle on.
  7. Arsehole is another word for Good Parent. I am a Good Parent!
  8. Love your family. The best thing that happened to our marriage this year (apart from my awesome clinical psychologist) was a game of football. I hate football, but I love my husband. Seeing him run onto that field as an old man (Sorry DH, but you were 46 on the day) and sustain a hamstring injury made us laugh, made our kids see him in a different light and generally made us all feel good.
  9. Life is amazing. Choose Life. Stuff happens that make life a challenge, but faced with the facts of how different life would be without me or any of you, I choose life. Sometimes it is a near miss, like I had, that make us reflect how our little and extended families would feel if we were taken from them. This is what I tell myself when the black dog nips at my heals and I feel like everyone else would be better off without me, when I am too scared to try something new in case I fail, when I understand that I am not my parents and never will be, when I listen to my husband and understand his point of view, when I give my kids time to be kids, and the list goes on.
  10. I am Amazing. This year I studied to become a Civil Celebrant.  As I said at the beginning of this post, I was on a journey this year. Becoming a Registered Marriage Celebrant has made be look within, not only at how I feel about marriage, but also about life in general. Life is full of wonder. Life is full of challenges. We only get one chance at life and we should make the best of it

I have done a lot of self improvement this year. I got treatment for being an arsehole menopause. I got even more treatment for my fucked up head (you would think I could sort this shit out after 26 years since diagnosis). I am proud to have forgiven those whom I thought I never could, this includes myself. Thank you Mum for this gem “Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it”-Mark Twain (although the internet is not sure he wrote it).

Forgiveness has granted me freedom.

Much love from me to you as this year comes to a close. Happy New Year!


Its not me it’s you.

Hey you.

Yes you.

The one who is always complaining about customer service.

Have you ever looked in the mirror?

Have you seen the face that you present to those who are unfortunate to serve you?

How about smiling at your server.

Go on, give it a red hot go.

You know you can do it.

I promise your face wont break.

Is that your mouth turning up at the corner?

Can I see a glint in your eye?

I’m sure I heard a friendly word just now.

How’s the world looking?


Be friendly.

Your world will change.


Are you being served? 6 ways to help me serve you better.

When I go to work as your server, I like to think I know my job. As a matter of fact, I do know my job. I also have good manners and etiquette.  Unfortunately for professional wait staff the world over, some employers are more than happy to employ staff with little to no experience for shitty wages, and then forget to train them to be awesome, thus giving our profession a bad wrap at times.

As I recently pointed out in my post 6 ways to keep me happy if you are my wait person, this could be because customers don’t care about good service or they have just accepted it will not happen. Well I would like to say that I do care about good service and have much pride in providing it if I was your server.

Today I am going to give it to you straight from my perspective as your server…

What pisses me off?

  1. Not listening. I have seated you, introduced myself, provided you with menus (both food and drink), explained the daily specials and of the days, where to read about them on the various blackboards located around the room and offered you a drink. I return with water and the drinks you have ordered and you ask me what the fish of the day is. Because I am a professional, I smile at you and tell you again, you then order the steak.
  2. Lack of etiquette. Your side plate is on your left. Your glass is on your right. Your napkin is for wiping your mouth, not your snotty nose. Because I am professional, and you pay my wages, I will not  ask if your mother would be proud of the way she brought you up. I smile and get your friend a clean side plate or glass.
  3. Taking drinks off my tray. Just don’t do it. Please. My little fingers are buckled under that tray acting like shock absorbers. When I take a glass off the tray, my brain knows how to adjust the weight. When you take a glass from the tray, all the glasses topple over and I spill drinks everywhere and look like a clutz. Because I am professional, I smile. I refrain from throwing the leftover drinks at your white shirt, and I clean up the mess and write of the spillage.
  4. Tilting your glass when I pour your beer. Because I am professional, I know how to pour a beer at the table. No need to help. In fact when you do help I fuck it up. But don’t despair, my smile is there. I will let you ‘fix’ my mistake by taking over, and you will miss out on the awesomeness which is my service.
  5. Piling up plates to help. Sorry helpers, this does not help. You see, we professionals know how to carry plates, deliver plates and clear plates. clearing platesWe do it one at a  time and we do it easily.  When you pile those suckers up, you make them too heavy to lift off the table with one hand. You stack the cutlery randomly and it gives me the shits. Because I am professional, I smile, I move past your pile of plates and continue to clear the table. I then make an extra trip back from the kitchen to use my two hands to pick them up.
  6. Treating me like shit. Hi there. I am a human. I chose a career in hospitality. I love the industry. I am not a servant in a classist society. I choose to give you awesome service as a means of making money. Working in the hospitality industry is so much fun most of the time. I don’t need some dick wad to treat me like shit and fuck up my mood. Because I am professional, I will ignore the way you looked down your nose at me and used simple language. I will refrain from becoming so pissed off with you that I ‘accidentally’ spill soup in your lap. But most of all I will smile.

I will keep the smile on my dial. At least until I get through the kitchen doors.

Happy dining.








Enjoying a Cuppa

I love food. I love cooking food. I love eating food. I love teaching my kids to love food. I love food being cooked for me. I love dining out.

Today my husband is home from work, this means the television is on and I find myself listening in on all sorts of stories which would have slipped passed my radar on a normal day. So today is the conversation on the Morning Show on Channel Seven.

A Queensland restaurant owner says his business is booming, after he banned children under the age of 7. Liam Flynn created the controversial policy last month, following a confrontation with customers who were slow to remove their crying toddler. Would you go to a restaurant that banned young children?

Bloody oath I would!

I love my kids, they know how to dine. They are very good. Only last week I took my 4 year old boy out for lunch with the ladies. As we were sitting there enjoying our meals, a fellow diner came over to our table as she was leaving the restaurant. She commended me on how well behaved my little dude was. I graciously thanked her for her compliment. I am now reflecting that she probably saw us walk in, thought ‘oh crap, a kid, there goes my peaceful lunch’ and rightly so.

I have many years of waiting tables under my belt. I have had many experiences with children, from the most freaking annoying little beasts who got under my feet while carrying hot soup and refused point blank to stop running up and down the stairs, to the 5 year old girl who still stands out in my mind when she asked ‘Daddy, can I please have the chicken liver pate?’ That little diner may have been a complete turd on another occasion in another restaurant, she would be about 18 years old now, I hope she enjoys her nights out after her parents taught her the finer points of dining. Bottom line is they are kids. Kids can be quite annoying at times.

Parents are the educators, but staff can also help by giving great customer service. It’s the little things. ‘Do you require a high chair?’ ‘Here are some colouring sheets and coloured pencils?’, ‘Can I order your child’s meal/drink immediately?’ Give them something to do and get that food out. Nine times out of ten they will have waited past their meal time and those little dudes are hungry and we all get crabby when we are hungry.

But I digress, back to the question. Would you go to a restaurant that banned young children? Yes. I would dine at a restaurant who does not allow children. I often go out to clubs where children can’t go. Why? Because I am an adult, and it is nice to be an adult in an adults world. I like to be able to drink and swear and dance and not worry about setting an example to the little people around me.

As I researched this a little more I found out that Flynn’s restaurant in Yungaburra now allows dogs.  Well done Liam, you have gone viral in your decisions about policy change on two occasions now. Your business will most likely prosper for a time due to all of this free publicity.

But sorry, I can no longer come to your establishment. Why? If I don’t know a dog’s owner, and trust them to control it, I am so shit scared of them I would never be able to relax in your restaurant.  No skin off your nose though, we are all different, the dog lovers will come (and I live in Victoria).