Music.

Every restaurant since the beginning of time has a different vibe.

Even restaurants that serve similar types of food have different experiences. Whether style of service, music, decor, food.

Music is definitely a defining element in a lot of restaurants. Sometimes it’s background. Sometimes it’s live. Sometimes it’s classical. Sometimes it’s pop.

Every owner, manager, designer has a reason for why they play what they play. Sometimes the music is different night to night depending who’s controlling it. But there’s always a reason.

My owner is very specific about what he wants. He has a list of stations that we play. All the stations are similar. All variations on electronic chill playlists. They are fun. Upbeat. Solid bass.

The music has a definite driving beat.

It’s also not background music. The music is loud and sets the atmosphere in the dining room. It creates an up beat energy. It lets you know that this is not your fine dining experience from 1972.

I love turning on the music at 4:45 every night.

It’s the call for places.

The lights are lowered. The candies are lit. The actors are in place. The music begins.

And just like that the curtain goes up (by that I mean the doors are unlocked) and the show begins.

I’ve felt this energy every day since I’ve started. It is unlike any other restaurant I’ve worked in. It’s this amazing energy that consumes the building.

The first guests arrive. They are seated.

The show has begun.

The energy continues to build until we seat the last guests. And then gradually quietens as the guests complete their dinners and begin to leave.

Quieter and quieter.

Until it’s just the staff.

Curtain call.

At the end it’s just the dim lights. The candles. The thump of the music.

At the end we are only left with the ghost lights. The glow of the lights from the cooler, the exit signs, the parking lot.

Just like that.

The show is over.

You know what absolutely no one tells you as you embark on the role of restaurant manger?

That you have to literally know everything.

About everything.

I often wonder if there’s a class about this in restaurant management school.

Seriously though.

You have to have the obvious leadership skills. You have to know accounting. It helps to know basic culinary skills.

Things they don’t tell you.

You need a PhD in psychology for all the relationship advice you will give.

You’ll need a PhD in chemistry so that you can get an oil stain off a silk blouse when your new server spills salad dressing down the back of their first guest.

Let’s not forget a computer science degree from MIT to keep your POS going on Saturday night of the busiest night of the year.

You’ll need to be a licensed plumber to diagnose and remedy the awful smell coming from the women’s room.

Three restaurants. Same problem.

A medical degree helps when your new host OD’s in the office while filling out his new hire paper work.

A certificate in small appliance repair when the coffee maker and glass washer both stop working. At the same time.

A licensed electrician when the breaker keeps tripping that controls the sockets where the band plugs in.

A sound design degree when the speakers keep feeding back when the groom is trying to toast his bride.

Why am I posting this?

Because when something goes wrong everyone comes running asking you to fix it.

It’s always an emergency.

Oh no!!

The music has stopped.

There’s no coffee

The hoods are off.

A server cut their hand in the kitchen.

And tonight.

The bar printer isn’t working.

It’s 5:15. We’ve sat two tables. Two drink orders. Both printed at the back up printer.

Oh. No.

This breeds panic as the last time this happened, twenty minutes later the whole POS was fucked.

In 16 seconds, five servers let me know the bar printer is not working.

Oh. No.

I go into my phone booth.

Strike that.

I spin around and around and become Wonder Woman and put on my IT hat.

I go to the bar.

My first thought? Does it have paper? But no that is not the problem. It’s something so much more complex.

Oh no.

Can it be fixed?

Someone has turned it off.

Seriously.

I flip the switch.

A bright light shines down from the heavens.

Actually it’s just the green power light.

All is good in the world.

I go back to the door.

Did I mention that I’m also a host?

When I was in fourth grade a classmate asked me to come to his houses one Saturday. This was a big deal to me because I never got asked to come to someone’s house.

So Saturday arrived, and I was dropped off.

I don’t remember much about the day. I do remember it was chilly. He wanted to play outside. I wanted to play a game, Mousetrap if I remember correctly. We ended up outside at his mothers suggestion.

At some point my parents arrived to pick me up. I reluctantly got into the car saying I wish I could stay longer.

My mother turned and said, “you never want to over stay your welcome.” I had no idea what this meant till years later, but I remember her saying it vividly.

It was true then.

It’s still true.

Know when to leave.

Even at a restaurant.

Tonight three ladies showed up at the door at 5:00. They wanted to sit at the bar. Unfortunately, I couldn’t sit the three of them together.

But.

A reservation for 5:00 had cancelled.

I gave the women this table.

And back to seating people I went.

And as 7:00 approached I watched as they continued to sit at the table. Even though they were finished.

7:00 came and went. And they continuited to sit.

7:30 approached and they continued to sit.

By this time the server has lost two opportunities for a 4 top. And I’ve had to move people around to tables they didn’t want to keep things moving.

They finally got up around 7:40. Having been finished with their meal almost 45 minutes.

This happens a lot.

Sometimes they sit for two hours after they have finished their meal.

It also happens a lot at the end of the night with people thinking that because we close at 8:30 it doesn’t matter.

Fun fact: we take our last reservation at 8:30. Especially in the summer. So while you sit, the smiths are in the lobby still hungry.

When in doubt ask the server if they need your table. Ask if you can move to bar or cocktail area.

Years ago we sat a table at 5:15. A 30ish couple. At 8:45 I approached the table and explained if they wanted dinner they’d have to order now as we closed at 9:00. I don’t remember if they ordered. Just that they sat for 4 hours without ordering.

Tonight was summer time busy. The last big hurrah as we begin the descent into fall and winter.

You know it was summer time busy because several people were summertime difficult. Nothing horrible, just a little outside the norm.

I had tonight’s post in my head until a server walked up to me at 10:00 for a comp.

I asked why we were comping this piece of apple pie and she proceeded to explain.

Table 21 finished their meal and was offered dessert. She recited the menu and then gave them a few minutes to think about it.

They ordered. A cup of strawberry ice cream, apple pie, chocolate cake.

When the desserts were delivered a gentleman at the table said, oh we’re just kidding about the apple pie.” She asked for clarification and he repeated. He was just kidding about the apple pie.

When she started to ask how she’d have known he was kidding, he interrupted and said:

Don’t argue with me little girl!

She removed the apple pie.

She was beyond angry.

I don’t blame her.

I comped the pie. And then explained to her that should anyone ever speak to her like that again to get me involved.

First, I would NOT have comped the pie. You order. You pay.

Second I would have let him know that speaking to my staff like that would not be tolerated.

Seriously. Who says that to anyone? Especially a stranger.

It’s easy to focus on the bad when making posts. They make for more dramatic stories and sometimes it seems like there are more of those.

But every once in a while, as I’ve posted before, special people walk through the door and make your evening.

Tonight around 7:30 a gentleman walked through the door to check in for his reservation. I welcomed him, marked him as arrived, and explained that his reservation was for the patio.

Unlike the five or six tables tonight who were angry to find this out he looked at me as said, “is that what I booked?”

Yes. It is.

I don’t suppose you have anything inside.

At this point I usually push for them to go outside for a few reason.

We have staff outside that are counting on the covers to pay their rent.

We are often full inside and have no other option.

More often than not the people are rude and deserve to be cold.

This man gently ask if there was anything. And then explained his elderly mother in law was with him and she couldn’t be out in the cold.

I ask him to give me a second.

I look.

All I have is a large table that seats 12.

I ask him if that will be okay.

He says yes and in two minutes, he’s brought his family in and has been seated at the VERY large table.

As I turn to leave he shakes my hand with a folded bill in it. I pocket the bill and walk away.

90 minutes or so later their server appears telling me that the table is asking for me.

I approach them and ask how their meal was.

They rave about dinner.

They then say that they are in love with Maine and are wishing they didn’t have to leave tomorrow.

I ask if they are thinking about moving here.

Seems they have been in New England for almost two weeks driving around Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine thinking about where they’d like to live. They are currently living in LA. and are looking for a place to move.

They ask how I got here.

I tell our story about our friends Michelle and Lisa. About coming to visit. About convincing Adam to move. About moving six months early. About writing a check we couldn’t cover for our first apartment. About struggling the first year. About the magical things that have happened since we’ve lived here.

I tell them about traffic that extends my commute by four minutes. I tell them about the mall for when you need a candle from bath and body works. I tell them about the food. The wonderful food. I tell them about mall food. I tell them to rent until they know where they want to live. I tell them about the beauty that is living in Maine.

They tell me about being up north earlier in the day and people being rude to them while they were getting gas and snacks. I ask if they were wearing masks and explain that Maine is red in the north. Blue in the south.

I tell them about real estate prices since COVID. About South Portland being one of the most sought after areas in the country.

They ask lots of questions. I give them lots on answers. He works for the academy of motion pictures. She works in construction.

Both can get jobs here.

I have these conversations so much more than I used to. And I love sharing the wonder that is Maine. Relocating here. Life on the other side of big city living.

They ask about snow.

N’or Easters.

Winter.

The ocean.

Skiing.

Commuting.

We talk for about 30 minutes. My staff hates when this happens because I’m not around to do comps and voids and cash outs.

We all shake hands.

I give them my card. Which excites the wife because we have Moo brand business cards. They are very nice business cards. They are extra thick. Super expensive.

We all say goodbye and I go back to find the burger I was cooked for dinner is cold but still delicious.

They were wonderful people.

Which reminds me why I like my job.

We are a restaurant in the northeast. It gets cold here.

We have a patio. It gets cold out there.

And.

Long before I started the owner made the decision not to have heaters. I agree with him 1,00000000%.

For many reasons.

First.

It’s expensive. Our patio is huge. We’d have to have 20 heaters to be useful.

It’s a a full time job keeping them full and exchanged. Someone has to do this.

They are never in the right place so you turn your back and some aggressive dude is moving one across the patio.

Someone is cold. The table next to them is hot. So your server who should be taking an order, running food, getting a check spends 20 minutes trying to make everyone happy.

You have to have a place to store these 20 heaters when winter finally arrives.

Seriously it’s a pain in the ass.

And every day someone marches up to the host stand to tell me how shameful it is that we expect people to sit out there with no heat.

Fun fact. We don’t expect you to sit outside. You chose to sit out there. You could have chosen an indoor reservation but you did not.

Also. Our business. Our choice on how to spend our money.

Fun fact: It’s Maine. It’s fucking cold 11.5 months a year. Wear a coat. Bring a blanket. A hat. Gloves.

But don’t become indignant.

And.

When you get here and realize there are no heaters—leave.

We don’t mind. People do it all the time.

That’s all!

We got a horrible review yesterday from a guest who dined with us on Sunday night.

The review:

When making the reservation was not told it was outdoors…when we arrived, there were no heaters and we were not dressed for cold weather outside. They then told us no indoor tables, but we could sit at the bar…then told rudely where we could not sit and finally they sat us at the end of the bar next to the bathroom…all this after driving 45 minutes to get there…

So.

The real story.

No.

They weren’t verbally told they were outdoors. They made the reservation themselves. Online.

When you select the patio it says outside.

Just before you confirm the reservation there is a message that you are making an outside reservation.

I don’t know how to better let people know they are booking outside.

As for what happened after they arrived.

They were greeted. Were told that their reservation was outside and explained where to go to be seated.

The insist they didn’t reserve outside but as we’ve learned the computer doesn’t lie.

They ask to move inside. We are very busy it’s a holiday weekend.

I let them know that the only seats I have are at the bar. They accept.

I take them to the their seats. Seats 1 and 2 and yes they are next to the men’s room door.

They ask the bartender if they can move to the end of the bar where there a two separate groups of two chairs. I let him know that they can’t because we have reservations for those chairs.

We have lots and lots and lots of people who have standing reservations at the bar. The two two-tops at the bar were reserved for these customers. People who made their reservations weeks ago, requesting the specific chairs we are holding for them.

I really would have liked to seat them elsewhere. But it really was the only option, if they didn’t want to wait.

I also realize that they didn’t get to sit where they wanted but the atmosphere of the space is amazing, your food was amazing, the bartender was amazing. And yet you rated us at 50% or lower for everything.

And.

At least we didn’t turn you away. There were times this summer when I had to tell people eat outside/inside as directed by your reservation or I can’t help you.

It is discouraging when people become angry at us for a mistake that they made. I get it. Mistakes happen. But work with us. If you’d been willing to wait you could have sat at a table. But that wasn’t an option.

That’s all.

Hi.

Can we talk for a bit about Woman Spreading?

We all know what man spreading is. But no one talks about woman spreading.

What is woman spreading, you ask?

It’s when a woman gets seated at the bar and takes up 16 square feet of space. The purse on the chair next to her. The coat on the hook under the chair next to her. Her wine glass, water glass and silverware pushed down the bar. The apps she hasn’t finished on the other side. Her napkin is on the floor. And she is so engrossed in conversation with her friend you have to nudge her because she doesn’t hear you say excuse me the 12 times you do.

Some do this because they aren’t paying attention. I think most do it because they hope to keep anyone from sitting next to them.

We have 23 seats at our horse shoe bar. As I mentioned earlier in the week, the restaurant started taking reservations for the bar during COVID. Of course back then half the seats were missing. People were spread out.

In May/June when restrictions were lifted, the chairs came back, and we started taking reservations for all 23 seats. The regulars love it, because they can guarantee a seat when they want it. And probably 50% of our bar guests are regulars. Another 25% of them have standing reservations. One couple has eaten at our bar over a 150 times since we started using our current reservation system. One couple has a standing Saturday night 8:00 reservation. Someone reading this tomorrow made four Sunday night reservations for the next four weeks tonight.

The people who don’t like that we take reservations are the folks who haven’t been taught how to guarantee themselves a spot. As soon as it’s explained they change their tune.

So.

We take reservations

It’s a little quieter now.

But a month ago it was quite different. 23 seats. 50+ reservations. Elbow to elbow. Constantly turning. Each reservation taken and placed as strategically as the tables in the dining room. 2 here. 3 there. Another 4 here.

I’ve also taught my staff that they have to be precise when seating someone. Count the stools if you have to. But when I say seats 13/14 I mean 13/14. A misstep means I don’t have a two top 90 minutes from now. Not to mention half the reservations have specific chairs they want to sit in. The smiths 13/14. The Joneses 19/20. Ken likes 18. Greg likes 1,2,3,4.

Woman spreading.

23 seats.

When I approach the bar with guests I have to put them next to you. Even though there are chairs open. Because in 30 minutes all the chairs will be full.

So, spreading out will not keep me from seating someone next to. It just means that I have to have an awkward conversation first. I’ll push your wine next to you, ask you to move your purse, then introduce you to your neighbors.

So restrain yourself when seated at the bar.

PS. Men are worse than women and yet they have less stuff to spread with. Sometimes I think it’s the urinal complex. They are terrified another man might sit next to them and make them seem inferior.

Yesterday I posted a Yelp review that mentioned me by name.

A relative suggested that I probably was rude in my approach. More aggressive than I needed to be. And ultimately the guest’s response was justified.

Hmmm.

I want to address what it’s like to work in the public in the time of COVID.

Yes.

It’s possible I was a little more aggressive than I needed to be.

That’s definitely possible.

But I’ll start by saying that managing in the days of COVID, strike that, working any service job, in the time of COVID is unlike anything in the past.

Everyday, millions of people just like me, open the doors to their restaurants, retail outlets, airlines, hospitals, hoping against hope that today will not be the day they get mentioned on the NBC Nightly News with Lester Holt.

Working in the public has always been hard. And I’ve seen lots of things in my 40+ years of doing it. A manager who was hit in the head with a ketchup bottle for telling a woman to stop beating her child. An employee of color who was fired and arrested when she slapped a guest who told her she belonged in the kitchen with the rest of the n_gg__s. A 19 year old server bawling in the kitchen because a man had decided it was okay to run his hand up her backside. A server crying because a man asked her if her parents were proud of her just being a server. A guest who said he wasn’t tipping the valets because their not being in chains was tip enough.

Yes. Working in the public has always presented its challenges.

Since COVID, the era of our last administration, and the bigger division of the right and left the whole saga has gotten worse.

Not only have the guests gotten more entitled, they have become more aggressive. More angry. More vicious. More unrelenting.

There’s a reason these stories make the news. Servers getting punched. Spit on. Even shot in a couple of cases.

I’m not exaggerating my stories.

So let me tell you what I’ve learned in my 40 years of restaurant work and almost ten years of management.

You can never show fear. You can never let them see you be intimidated. You have to have a wide stance, and unwavering voice, and an air of authority.

It also helps to be 6’0” 250+ pounds and definitely a man. Being white doesn’t hurt either.

Why do I say this?

Because for ten years as a GM, guests have been insanely angry at an 18 year old female host, but their tune changes when I walk up behind the employee and say how can I help you?

Never have I been asked to get the real manager when I’ve spoken to someone. My female friends get asked all the time for them to get the person in charge. Even though they are the GM. All I ever get is what is your name and who owns the restaurant?

For the past two summers I’ve been beaten up daily for just enforcing the rules. Yes, you have to wear a mask. No you can’t stand there. Yes you must remain seated.

Everything changed last year. Restaurants pivoted. Then pivoted again. Then pivoted again, just to survive. For those on the front lines, some things changed daily. Yes we do take out. No we don’t do take out. Yes you can sit at the bar. No you can’t. This table is off limits. Now it’s not.

I get that they public is confused. But it’s been 20 months. Seriously. Stop acting shocked.

Add to that the constant state of being short staffed and it just gets worse .

Last summer I worked 5+ weeks of 70+ hours. This year since the end of April I’ve worked more than 60 hours a week. I have worked six days work weeks since the end of June.

I’m fucking tired.

So yes.

It’s possible I was not as sweet, and lovely, and full of rainbows as I could have been.

I go to work expecting the worst. Because you can only get punched so many times before you square off to avoid the punch.

However.

And I repeat.

However.

I’m very good at my job. And I’m very good at turning situations around. Once this summer a bartender who had a super pissed off guest, asked me how I do it, when I visited the guest, chatted her up and turned the situation around. She was eating out of my hand when I left the bar.

I’ve also been known to apologize to a guest when I am wrong as I admitted last week right here on this site.

So yes. I might have been a bit aggressive.

But based on their response. Probably not.

Based on the review. Probably not.

They would have reacted the same no matter how I started. Except, if I’d shown weakness they’d have probably called me an asshole to my face instead of saying it the 15 year old female host standing beside me. Or to the 45 year old female server who waited on them.

If they truly had balls, they would have marched up to the owner who is cooking in our open kitchen and said something to him.

But no.

They grumbled under their breath. Complained to people who couldn’t address the situation and then took their complaint to Yelp.

You know what they also did NOT do?

They did not respond to the survey they get from their reservation. No follow up. No comments that go directly to all the management team. Nope. Not at all.

So I’ll repeat. Yes! I might have been less kind than I could have been. But I seriously I don’t think that was the case.

And please! Who announces they are never eating at a restaurant again? Before their meal. Then spends $500 dollars. If I were as pissed off as they pretended to be I’d have left and gone to one of the 50 other residents in a 20 minute drive in the area.

Nope.

Not buying it.

So my friends in the service industry:

Especially my female friends, and friends of color.

Don’t tolerate the bullshit. Wide stance. Direct eye contact. Unwavering voice.

And if that doesn’t work get yourself a boss like me. Who has no trouble supporting his staff. Has no trouble saying you have to go.

On my third or fourth week i had the host seat a table. The host came back to say the guest was unhappy. It was a walk in. Saturday night. I go to the table. The many is angry. He begins to curse. I interrupt him and explain, that he no longer had an option to sit there. He’s not sitting anywhere. He cursed. He goes. I walk him out of the restaurant. I didn’t know this till later. As I’m walking across the dining room my boss leans over to my friend Joe and says Jeff’s going to get a bad review today. Then chuckled.

He was not upset. He supported my decision to not tolerate the bullshit.

So seriously. Get yourself a manager who supports you.

Cause I’m that guy. You deserve that guy.

PS. Adults should learn that the word no is not a personal affront to your manhood. It’s okay. You’ll be fine. I promise.