Fiery Pits of Olive Garden Hell

I really sometimes do work in that which is called hell.  Let's go back to 1:00 p.m. yesterday.  A gallant, happy go lucky asian boy walks into Olive Garden Provo with a smile, a skip in his step, and a lack of a hangover (I know, surprising eh?).  He finds that the kitchen's air conditioner has broken again... oh goody.  That means that whenever you walk from the dining area back into the kitchen it's like walking instantly into a sauna.  He then proceeds to feel really bad for the cooks because he begins to sweat whenever he's in there and they stay in there all day.  

Fast forward, in the typical manor young gaysian starts his shift with his 3 tables.  Provides them with the necessary means to have a very enjoyable dining experience, all tables pay and leave.  The score 0/3 on getting  a tip over 10%.  What the hell?  5 dollars on an 85 dollar ticket?  Well, needless to say he is angry.  Tries to be as happy as always and makes 1 good tip the entire time he is supposed to be there.  

5:00 pm rolls around.  Manager won't phase mid servers because there are 2 holes on the closing side.  So, Sean and Lindsay agree to stay for a free dinner until 7:30 (what the manager says).  Right around the time he is supposed to leave, the computer system crashes.  Manager goes frantic, customers start getting a little angry and wanting to leave.  Both tables he has pay with cash so they can leave.  Receives another 10% tip from a smaller table, and a 15% tip from his party (which is supposed to receive 18% because it was more than 8 guests).  Needless to say when he finally got to leave at 9:30 it was THE WORST shift ever to take place for one young man at the OG.  

And that my friends is why I work in hell.

As much as I love salmon, shrimp, and tiramasu, it was not worth my life to be there yesterday at all.  57 dollars in 8.5 hours... that's a joke.  That's not even half of what I made the night before in only 6 hours.

Life moves on though and I'm just so excited to go back again tonight... NOT!

Utah Tippers, grow some balls and don't come in when you can't afford a decent tip.

When you're here, you're treated like family, meaning no money.  I see no difference between O.G. and Hell.