I've been out of restaurant work for over a year now, and I still wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, convinced that table 13 is still waiting for a side of mayonnaise.
Dude, it's been 11 years and I still have the occasional nightmare. You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.
I work at a bar occasionally, mk, _refugee_, wasoxygen, I can't remember, so you'll have to remind me if a tiny blonde girl was working at the Pinch that night, but she's one of the owners. I have no fucking idea how she ever ended up in the restaurant business. There's in the weeds, and then there's that newbie kid who thinks three tables is in the weeds, but she's been that kid for ten years. And then she panics, and starts yelling at everybody, and any attempt to help her is seen as a sleight against God himself, so you get fucked over for helping, and just as fucked for not. And if she has a problem with a ticket, everything stops to listen to her about it, no matter what it's your fault, and don't you lose your cool while listening, because she's an owner. And these are Monday nights usually. Saturdays with two shows, good weather, and a game on? Lord help you. I think I'll make my exit from the tending scene if I get this promotion.
I worked with a woman that owned a restaurant I managed. She was the chef/owner. She was on TOP CHEF. She's an extremely talented chef. AWFUL COOK. There's such a difference between being a chef and being on 'the line.' Her own line cooks would boot her from the kitchen when things got too hairy. Talented woman, just not the best under pressure. Probably why she was voted out of TOP CHEF in round two.