Working 6 days a week without an actual rest day (the 7th day is always spent on errands) for the past few months has finally brought me to the edge. I am getting so sick of dealing with people. If you go to a restaurant and the server kindly explains to you that your meal will be taking longer than expected due to the kitchen crashing, what the heck gives you the nerve to blame the server and accusing him/her of supposedly ringing in your meal late? This is but one of hundreds of stupid, moronic issues I've had to deal with this past week, and I think I've had enough. Just enough. People get so worked up and angry about their food service without bothering to understand how the whole restaurant system works, so the server always gets the business end of the stupid stick. Not going to tip me because the kitchen messed up? Yeah, that's a server's fault. Not going to tip because the prices aren't comparable to McDonald's? Yeah, the server's to blame for that, too. And hey, you're yelling so loud that spittle is spraying from your face and the server has resorted to a manager to deal with you from now on so you won't tip? Yup. You guessed it. That's the server's fault. Oh. My. God. Working two high volume restaurant jobs has doubled my stress, doubled my internal turmoil (lol?), and has doubled my absolute misery with everything. Last week, a fight also broke out at one of my restaurants because of the Patriots losing to the Ravens. A huge fight between six guys in which tables were turned over, people (old women, little children) were pushed aside so these men could smash their fists into each other's faces and spray blood everywhere. What the frak. Restaurant jobs are so underrated with regards to tension and stress.