Working at a restauran t isn't for the faint of heart. For some reason, before I got my job at a Mediterranean restaurant on the Upper East Side, I thought I was a natural-born server. Describing food to people is basically my hobby, and if I could get paid for it? Dream gig. I was so, so wrong. Before reaching server status at this restaurant, I had to do some time as a backwaiter. Backwaiters are glorified busboys. They're integral to the operation, gracefully pouring water and pulling empty…