A Ode to Italian Food

A Ode to Italian Food, what a way to start this off. Much like the picture above, I thought my job working at a high end Italian restaurant was quite picturesque. I was making well above my monthly need and even made a friend along the way. You see this job wasn't your typical waitressing job. The owners of the restaurant were beyond unique, one of them having schizophrenia and the other being the only and final say on how things were to be run. All chaos would break loose the moment the words "the owners are on their way!" would be muttered. From my manager frantically screaming at us to do our side work even though it would be in the middle of dinner rush to the kitchen staff trying to ensure their lemon butter sauce didn't break in the five minutes it would take for said owners to interrogate the restaurant. We were also required to have our white shirts professionally dry cleaned which was not compensated for by the company and if you committed the sin of showing up to work with out your dry cleaners tag, off you went home until you could provide the needed evidence of such a transaction. The kitchen manager was also notorious for cussing out servers because little did we know but, he was having a affair with a server that could have been his daughter and his wife had found out and so his life had become quite chaotic at home. Of course, all of this was known to the general manager who did nothing about the issue. I was also told directly that my manager did not have faith in me to do my job after I have had 3 years of experience in the fine dining field, I looked unattractive and many other wonderful things that left me feeling totally appreciated for my efforts. After being cursed out by the kitchen manager on a busy Saturday for him thinking a entree was already sent out when it hadn't been and no correction, I put in my two week notice. I had been working there a year and was frankly over it. My manager had convinced me to stay saying all the sweet nothings I had longed so long to hear one of them being there was going to be a complete staff meeting where the owners were going to come and address the problems in the restaurant themselves. Hearing that it seemed like after all this time my manager actually maybe somewhat slightly cared about me, I agreed to stay. Flash forward to the highly hyped up meeting and the owners are a no show. My manager had read a script of things about uniform standards and job expectations and nothing of the promised words were mentioned. Keep in mind, I am just a string of 5 people that have left the restaurant within the month due to the way it was run. My next scheduled day, I decided I was going to stick it out for a week. I was on a private event and the money that goes with those was something I did not want to miss. I came in to get the event decorated with the needed plate ware and ordered myself a Margarita pizza. As I was eating, I was told there wasn't enough plates or silverware to set the room and that I would have to carry the plates back from a building across the property in beyond hot weather. I ate my pizza and walked out. Haven't looked back sense. Here's to you, Margarita pizza.