Thank You, Effy

I was recently bestowed with an LOL award from my friend Effy. That’s not her real name, of course. That’s just what I call her because her anonymity is vital to her keeping her job. She writes the exceptionally well-written and EXTREMELY well-titled restaurant blog Fuck My Table. The name of this blog alone is enough to garner thousands of hits and I can’t lie: I wish I’d thought of it first.

Effy (Short for FMT) has been telling it like it is for a lot longer than I have and has always said really nice things about me. She even dedicated a recent blog post exclusively to my blog, which generated a record number of hits.

If you ever want to know what it’s like working for the flagship concept in the Brinker empire, pop on over to http://fuckmytable.wordpress.com/. I might even regale you from time to time with my tales from the pepper paradise, but she is currently in the trenches fighting the good fight.

 

Dignity and Respect

Me, The JerBear

7 Comments

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7 responses to “Thank You, Effy

  1. Aw, you’re a sweetheart. Thanks for sending more traffic my way!

    You know, a couple of years ago I joked for months about starting a blog called “Fuck My Table” with a fellow server who was also my best friend. Once I moved to a new city and didn’t have him to complain to, I created the blog as a surrogate of sorts. It turned out better than I ever thought it would. People actually read it! AND AGREE WITH ME! Who would have thought?

    I guess when you spend your workdays getting yelled at and chastised, you forget that you are of value. Thanks for being a good bud and reminding me how to keep my sanity.

    Peace,
    FMT

    • I actually happened upon Miss Effy’s blog and eventually this one… ….but I was wondering if by any chance you had some insight on how you got people your blog out there for people to see.
      I’ve been blogging for about six months but I’m not really as available as I’d like to be, so if you ever had a few moments to share any bits of advice (no matter how small) I would be deeply indebted.

      Incidentally, the toilet thing was fucking GROTESQUE. I’ve cleaned up quite a few bodily fluids at my job, but nothing like that. It’s pretty much a daily battle to keep the bathroom at my work ’employees only’ but when I’m reminded of other peoples’ ordeals the exhaustive measures that I am forced to take make it worth it.

      • Yes it was pretty disgusting and I honestly debated whether or not to include it in my musings. There are many legends in many restaurants that I’ve heard of concerning misplaced poo but really the only reason that particular incident stood out in my mind was that it was so . . . odd. Truth be told it’s usually the women’s restrooms that are far more dirty than the men’s. Say it isn’t so.
        Bee Tee Dub, what exactly IS your job that you have to clean up all these bodily fluids? I’m glad I work in a restaurant lol.
        As far as blogging advice goes I am such an e-tarded neophyte at it that I would be hesitant to give advice. I could however forward an email Effy sent me that had all sorts of great advice. She is, after all, the master. I doubt I would have any traffic if it weren’t for her sparkling endorsement.

  2. If I’ve learned anything from deconstructing toilet paper nests and dislodging used diapers from the strangest of places, it is to not underestimate the female of the species when it comes to survival. Where no resources exist, they are capable of creating them in a Macgyver-esque type fashion.
    My current job is working in a thrift store, so as far as disgustomer service jobs go, it’s by no means the worst that I’ve had. People who happen to frequent thrift stores are just the most insane breed of people ever, hence the constant contact with bodily fluids (although they seem to be getting better, so far this year I’ve only had to clean up semen and a couple of teeth).

    • Dude your comments make me really, REALLY glad I work in a restaurant!

      And ‘disgustomer’ is now the Word Of The Day:)

      • I suppose the best fit is in what type of crazy you are… …and by choosing to work customer service you have to be crazy. I did minimal amounts of food service and when I realized that I could potentially be deprived of the bulk of my earnings due to my inability to not mouth-off at people I decided that a position that didn’t offer tipping would be best.
        So thrift-hell is best fit for me… …when the crazy scavenging senile citizens cry about stupid little things I can threaten to bitch-slap them without fear of going home with empty pockets.

        And take ‘disgustomer’! Take it and RUN WITH IT!

  3. She’s a peach, isn’t she!

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