Sondheim: When going to hide, know how to get there. And how to get back!

Fun fact! My restaurant is in the middle of nowhere. I remember three years ago (our birthday was yesterday) when I read about the restaurant thinking this is a bad idea, especially in its location.

Turns out it was a great idea.

The point is, we are 3 miles from the center of town. We are seriously in the middle of nowhere. We are in the middle of nowhere in a town that is essentially the middle of nowhere.

People come to visit from all over the world. Most of them from metropolitan areas. You know what metropolitan areas have? Cabs. Taxis. Ubers. Lyfts. Subways. Buses.

You know what restaurants in the middle of nowhere that are in the middle of nowhere towns have? None of the above.

At least once a week someone gets to our restaurant and then realizes they have no ride home. This has happened two or three times since I’ve worked there. A couple of times employees have driven people to their hotels. A couple of times the manager of the hotel has had to come get them which happens when all of the hotels are luxury resorts.

So tonight we finish service around 9:00.

Around 9:30 I plant myself at the chef’s table as I usually do, to wait for the evening to wrap up. As the evening progresses, servers give me their cash outs, I check in with people and say thank you to guests as the leave.

Unintentionally, I eves drop on the other chefs table and realize they don’t have transportation to wherever they are going. It’s approaching 10:00 and they are frantically trying to determine when their ride will be here.

They approach the bar and order another round of drinks. Then more frantic searching.

I’m listening to all of this.

I hear them say that their Uber will be here in 40 minutes. It’s now 10:25. All the tables are gone. All but two servers are gone.

They finish their drinks and get up.

Yay. Movement.

They move to the lobby and make themselves at home. It’s pushing 11:00 now. I can’t leave till they leave.

To cut the story short it’s around 11:30 before they leave.

They are lucky their ride showed up. Many, many, many times the Uber/cab never shows. Tonight would have sucked because no one and I mean no one would have helped.

They are lucky things turned out the way they did.

Finally they are on their way. To who knows where. We are all happy because all of us were questioning who was going to get them home.

So.

Have a plan. Always, always, always have a plan to get home.

Today was about the telephone.

I got to work and there were 37 messages on line 1.

PS. We use an old school phone with a digital answering machine attached.

There were five messages on line 2.

I start my day by making coffee. There is no way to hit play till my cup is filled. While the coffee is brewing I count the deposits from the day before. Make sure I haven’t missed an important email. Pour coffee into my Hershey mug that the size of a soup bowl.

I turn the page on my notebook.

I hit play.

I write down the messages as they play. Name and number from caller ID. Short hand for why they are calling.

John Smith. 207 555 6302.

2 pp @ 6pm on 9/15.

Outside only.

Sam Jones 603 555 4532

8—-6 Saturday @ 7:30. (Moving from 8 to 6 people)

It goes on. And on. And on.

The first messages are from the previous evening. Starting around 4:30 until around 9:30.

I’m about six messages in when there is a call from Joe, who says I’ve already called once tonight, (it’s true I’ve got his messages written down) and it would be great if someone could call me back on the day I call.

Hmmm.

The very next message is from Kate who says she’s called multiple times and no one ever calls her back.

It’s true she called around 5:15. It’s now 7:30.

Hmmmm

I finish taking down the messages.

Then I refill my cup.

And I start calling people back. I’m annoyed because I’ve been accused of not calling people back. I literally spend three hours of my day on the phone. I have every message saved in my notebook. Kate has never left a message before. I’ve gone back and checked.

I get to Joe on the list and I take a deep breath. He was annoyed on the machine. Who knows how he will be on the phone.

I dial.

He answers.

And he’s the sweetest person I’ve talked to all day.

It’s easy to be nice to him. I make his reservation and we are good. I end by assuring him if he leaves a message I will always call back at least by the next day.

I call Kate next. She’s less sweet. I breathe and kill her with kindness. She too is in my hand when I hang up, her reservation having been made.

I finish my list.

There are now 8 more messages to respond to.

This continues till I move from my office to the host stand because I have a meeting with a friend who’s come to give me some advice on events. It’s now 4:06.

The shift starts, and around 6:00 there are two groups waiting to be seated when several people walk in. I assess that it’s three two tops all wanting to sit at the bar. None of them with reservations.

I greet the first party. The woman comes in strong. She lets me know she’s called twice today and no one has answered. I ask her if she left a message and initially she says yes. I ask what time snd she says around 3:30. I explain that that’s impossible because I checked the messages and returned them all.

She back peddles.

Okay she didn’t leave a message. Because the message picks up and no one ever calls her back anyway.

I push back about being here for three months and I’ve called everyone back.

She then says she did leave a message.

I ask what time. She can’t decide.

Then her husband gets involved, voiced raised, about the whole system sucking.

I should point out at this point, while we are conversing I’m still trying to find everyone a spot. It’s not like I’m just being difficult.

I start to say that if they give me just a second I can get them seated, when the husband explodes. Yelling at me about how they are locals, and can never come back.

I ask why they can never come back and he says because we never fucking answer our phone.

The wife looks at me and says “… you were about to say something…”.

I shrug because the husband is gone. Flipping me off as he leaves.

She leaves and I promptly pick up menus snd seat both of the other parties waiting for the bar. It was really just a matter of giving me two seconds to move things around to find them a spot.

I could have sat them all if they had been less aggressive and a little more patient.

Seriously. When you approach the host stand if they don’t say no immediately there is a good chance they have a solution. Give them a chance to help you.

Also, leave a fucking message. No one can help you if you don’t give them a chance.

Don’t criticize the restaurant while you are waiting to be seated. You chose us. No one forced you to dine here.

Over the weekend a couple came in at 7:15 for a 7:30 reservation. Their table was ready, but I couldn’t seat them quite yet. That’s another story. It’s kind of important to the story to note that the gentleman was around 6’2”, extremely good looking and he carried himself as though he’d known this to be true his whole life.

So he’s wandering around the lobby, chatting, asking questions, regular chit chat.

Then he starts asking specific questions about the menu. He mentions that our menu isn’t on our website and this is bad for business. I explain that the owner embraced the idea that if you build it they will come and after three years he still believed that.

At which point, Mr 6’2” says he’s a marketing and sales manager and clearly the owners marketing strategies aren’t working.

I listen. Nod. Listen. Nod. Start thinking about what I’m going to have for dinner. Nod. Make a mental note to order new pants. Nod. Say uh huh. Nod. Think about how my last root canal was less painful. Finally realize it’s 7:30, interrupt him, and say their table is ready.

For a good ten minutes he went on and on about how not having the menu on our website wasn’t working.

Fun fact. It’s Saturday night. We are fully booked.

We were fully booked the night before that. And the night before that. And the night before that.

We’ve been fully booked since the beginning of August.

I wanted to ask him how what metrics he’d use to prove success or failure considering you can’t get a reservation in my restaurant unless you know someone. The marketing seems to be working but what do I know? I didn’t major in marketing. Perhaps one of my friends with that expertise could weigh in.

Before you ask, I was confused as to why the menu wasn’t posted.

Explanation: First you don’t have to update 10 sites every time you change it. Second, it creates intrigue. And promotes interaction with the restaurant when you have to reach out for information. And, the menu is out on the internets if you do a google search for it. Lots of people have posted it on social media.

And yes. It is working. It’s been a banner year and shows no signs of slowing down.

Unless being fully booked is somehow bad for business.

PS. Mr 6’2” extremely handsome sales and marketing guy only tipped 14%. Maybe he’s just bad with numbers.

I’ve enjoyed the response to my recent posts. They started as a way to respond to being verbally abused. They have grown from there.

I enjoy writing them and enjoying having the somewhat safe space to do so.

However, I should really point out that 99.999999 of our guests are supremely wonderful. They are gracious. Appreciative. Genuinely grateful to be eating at our restaurant.

Of course everything I’ve written is true, but it really is all about how you respond. My staff will tell you, at least my current staff, that I’m pretty good at diffusing the situation. I can turn most bad experiences around. As long as you aren’t an ass and don’t get personal.

For example, the gentleman with the three year old was pissssed when I sat him at the high top. He was pissssssed when I moved him to a low table. But on the way out he thanked me for accommodating their family.

It was my pleasure to do so, but it WAS not my mistake.

So enjoy my posts. But know the assholes do not outnumber the good. Not even close.

This post was sponsored by my aunt who was genuinely concerned I was having a rough time at work.

I love my new job. More than I have in four years. It truly is an amazing place to be.

Dining out tip:

There is no need to tell me who you are when calling for a reservation.

Whether in person, or in a message there is no need to say the following things:

1. Hi. This is Tim Jones. I’m a local.

2. Hi. This Sally Smith and I’m your neighbor from across the street.

3. Hi. This is Ethan Roberts and I own the local real estate office.

4. Hi. This is Jason Johnson and I was in on Saturday with 12 of my friends. We had a great time and spent tons on money. Can you help me out?

5. Hi. This is Laura Henderson and I am a friend of the owners. He said to call and you’d make me a reservation.

6. Hi. This is Bill Morgan and I own Costco and I need the best table for my family.

7. Hi. This is Kathy Booth and it’s my family’s last day in town and we must must must eat at your restaurant tonight.

8. Hi. This is Steven Lucas and it’s my 24th wedding anniversary and we can only eat at your restaurant to celebrate.

9. Hi. This Julia Jackson and I’m a local. Well, I own a home there and spend two months each year at the beach. I know the Johnsons , the Smiths, the Joneses, the McDonalds, and they all insist this is the restaurant I must eat at this weekend.

10. Hi. This is John. I’m a friend of the owner Taylor. We live next door to her. (Taylor, the owner is a man).

Here’s the deal. I want to say yes to everyone. It’s best for the business, the owner, me and you if the chairs are filled for dinner. So you letting me know who you are doesn’t change anything. If I have a seat to put you in, I’ll say yes.

Pushing the idea that because you are local will get you special treatment is far from true.

First, the real locals already know how to get a reservation. I gave them my personal cell number three weeks ago.

The real locals also never say they are locals because we know them.

It’s the summer crew who are in town at their summer home for six weeks that say this. They aren’t locals. To be a real local your great, great, great, great, great, great grandparents sailed here on the Mayflower and settled in town in 1692.

So when you call say, Hi, I was curious if you had any available reservations for Wednesday night, around 7:00. That’s all. If there is availability I will let you know. If I say no, ask about other times. Other days.

If I say yes, give me your information.

Also, if I say no, don’t demand I find a place for you.

The main dining room in my restaurant has 59 seats. I can’t magically produce a four top because you are desperate. Or own the local real estate office. Or because it’s your anniversary. Or because you insist. We are full. That’s that. I do have two seats at the bar. Will that work?

When the conversation is over. Say thank you, whether you got seats or not.

And remember, being nice goes so much further than anything else. Not that it will magically produce a table, but I will look harder, move things around, offer a table on a different day etc. I want to help you celebrate your anniversary.

PS. If there is silence when you ask the question it’s because the person who answered the phone is looking for a solution. Give them a minute. They might have something after all.

I learned a new life lesson during the stress of the evening.

It’s called Embracing the Baby.

Tonight we couldn’t print checks for our guests. We couldn’t print credit card signature forms.

A server, we’ll call Bob, because that’s his name was struggling with the stress.

However, he had a family at table 12 with a restless baby who needed to go. He couldn’t print their check. He couldn’t get a signed credit card slip.

Finally he walked up to the table, showed them a paper with the total and said, Can you sign this, add a tip if you like and you can go.

And they did.

And he explained, that once he embraced the baby, his whole night changed. More serene. Just get through the chaos. The worst was behind him.

Let’s all embrace the baby.

As a theater person, you learn very early on that there is a certain play whose title you don’t speak aloud.

Tonight I did a thing.

Around 4:15 tonight I walked into the bar and the bartender was drying her hands aggressively.

I asked her if she was rehearsing a particular scene from said play. I might have said the name of the play out loud. Then I asked if she knew the play? The story? The superstition? She did not.

I then explain it to her and jokingly say, now that I’ve said this the whole night is going to explode.

The evening starts and all is well until 5:45. When the bar printer goes down. Then the server printers go down. By 6:30 the entire system was fucked! Kitchen printers not working. Credit cards processing but not printing signature copies. Can’t print guest checks.

The system was still not working at the end of the night. Our IT guy (I use the term loosely) will be in tomorrow to try and figure out the issue.

How does one cancel the curse when it’s not a theatre?

I told my team about this tonight and now they all think it’s my fault.

Tonight I picked up the phone around 6:15. We were quiet tonight as LOTS of people left town before the impending weather.

Me: thanks for calling ________. How May I help you?

Caller: Hello do you do indoor dining.

Yes. We do.

Do you have anything at 6:45.

No. We are booked.

Do you do have a patio?

Yes we do!

Do you have anything at 6:45 on your patio.

SSIR: It’s. Uh. Uh. Uh. It’s raining.

Not right now. It’s stopped.

Yes. But it’s wet outside.

Yes. But it’s not raining.

No. But it was.

May we sit outside.

No.

Why not?

Because it’s wet outside.

We don’t mind.

No.

________-

________.

Well.

Well.

No.

Huh.

No. You can’t sit outside.

Okay.

And SCENE!

Dining out tip:

If a restaurant is not open for lunch that does NOT mean no one shows up for work till 5:00.

Every night at 5:00:01 our phone begins to ring.

And it rings. And rings. And rings. And rings. And rings. And rings. And rings.

Fun fact. We opened our doors seven minutes before that and we won’t answer our phone again until around 6:30. We don’t have someone to answer it because we are short staffed, and the host, is also the GM and he is busy dealing with the guests in front of him.

Calling over, and over , and over again also isn’t helpful. I see your name on the caller ID Mr Jones. I wish I could help you. But I can’t.

Also don’t, leave a message at 5:12 and then show up at the restaurant at 6:02 angry that no one has called you back.

Also. Don’t wait till the minute a reservation is supposed to show up to call the restaurant to pay for their drinks, dessert, dinner because you didn’t plan ahead to do something nice for their birthday.

Also. Don’t tell the GM when you waltz through the door that you’ve been calling for days and no one returns your calls. My main job in the afternoon is to return the 47 messages we get in 12 hours.

Also, leave a message. Don’t just call and call and call. I will call you back and I’ll be much happier to help if you haven’t called 17 times.

And more thing. Don’t call at 4:57. 6:12. 7:45. 9:10. 9:43. Then the next day at 8:47. 10:43. 12:32. Leaving messages each time. I know you need to change your reservation from 4 people to 6 people but my god. I can’t imagine what being your boyfriend is like.

I’ll leave you with this.

Keep your message short.

If you want me to call you at a number different than the one your calling from say the number twice.

I don’t need to know you live up the street. I don’t need to know you’re bringing your cousin Alice on Saturday. I don’t need to know anything more than your name, your number, the date of your reservation, and the time.

Then we’ll go from there!

PS. There are people in the restaurant all day.

Call early. Leave a message. Be patient. We’ll call you back.

I promise!

Eating out rule.

Strike that.

Being a good human rule.

Do not. I repeat. Do not do the right thing, then demand something in return.

Tonight was a hard night for me because one of our hosts called out. I was stuck on the door as a result. Around 8:30 a server came to find me because she had an upset guest. She was so distraught she couldn’t even explain the problem. She finally sent me to her co-worker so he could bring me up to speed before I visited the table.

Seems that the guest in question had been presented their check. Upon receiving it, the guest discovered that their entrees were not on the bill. They brought it to the attention of their server. Upon presentation of the check they inquired as to what their compensation would be. What were we going to do for them?

The servers were dumbstruck. The guest did the right thing, but were now demanding a reward.

So the servers fetched me.

I went to the table. Where I was immediately inundated with all the reasons we needed to do something for them. Ultimately they felt like they deserved a reward. I explained to them that that’s not how life works. I explained if the same thing happened at a bank the bank wouldn’t give them free money. It only escalated from there. I finally asked if they only give to charity if the charity offers them a service.

I was then called an asshole. I was also told over and over that they saved our asses.

Then I was called an asshole again.

And then again.

I finally said I was going to get the check for them. I did decide to take one entrée off the check. However when I got back they started again. I finally said I felt sad for them that they really only do the right thing for the reward. I was called an asshole again. I explained that we are a business trying to survive during a pandemic. I’m called an asshole again and was told that was no excuse. They were saving our asses.

I leave the check and say the server will be by for payment. I walk back to the bar. I should state I’m on the patio. I’m now waiting in the patio bar. The next thing I know one of them walks up to me, throws the check presenter at me, slams his hand down on the counter and proceeds to yell at me some more. Before I can respond a woman at the bar turns on him, tells him to calm the fuck down. That she’s trying to eat and that he’s out of line. She was at the bar when I was being appraised of the problem. This doesn’t deter him and he keeps yelling. I tell him if he doesn’t calm down I’ll call the cops and they can help with the situation.

He leaves.

We run the credit cards and I return to the table. He starts again. Calls me an asshole again. I should mention that I’m acutely aware that this whole series of exchanges are being witnessed by other tables. I finally say to him. Sir. You may think what you want. By I suggest you subscribe to the New York Times. Because three weeks ago they ran a story about why people like you are making it so difficult for people in the restaurant business. He told me again how he saved my ass. Called me an asshole. And I walked away.

I go back to the bar. I must admit. I’m NOT shaken. These types of encounters just piss me off. When I get back, the women at the bar have a lot to say about the man. I promptly thank them for coming to my defense and buy the drinks they are consuming. Two seconds later a woman comes out of the bathroom and proceeds to tell me she kept her husband from chewing them a new ass and how great it was that I didn’t bow down to them. I bought her drinks too.

The whole exchange was surreal. They felt that I should buy their whole check because they did the right thing. The one man said over and over he was saving our asses. I might point out we are a steak house. There were no steaks on their check. They’d ordered the cheapest entrees. Not that I care. It’s just if they hadn’t paid it would have been about $125 dollars. Not exactly the end of the road for us.

After this exchange I hid from everyone for about an hour. I needed quiet. I stood at the host stand saying goodbye to people instead of my usual routine.

Did I really owe him more than the $33 dollar entree I comped.

PS. They did tip 18% on their check so they weren’t all bad.