Tonight was a weird night. The flow was off. First turn was quiet. 2nd turn was busy and tables weren’t turning. Just weird.

That being said. There were lots of folks in tonight that I knew. A couple who was in last night and came back tonight. The sweetest older lesbian couple that I’ve ever met. A couple who come in once a week. Another couple that just got back from Hawaii. A lovely couple who stop in every 10 days or so who were just in for drinks.

As I was driving my 45 minutes home tonight I was rehashing the evening. What worked? What I wish I’d done differently. You know the stuff that keeps me awake at 3:00 in the morning.

I sometimes think my staff thinks I just come in and make decisions off the cuff. Meanwhile, I’m awake at 4:00 trying to figure out how to make their lives easier.

So in the middle of the rehash I realized something. I now know more of my guests than ever in my life.

At David’s we didn’t take reservations so I never knew anyone’s name. I was also in the kitchen a lot so I wasn’t the face of the restaurant.

At RiRa I knew two regulars. And they both used to work there. Two. I worked for two years and never met anyone. It was really an office job. And a kitchen job.

But at my new job I’m at the door a lot. I return ALL the phone calls. I know everyone’s name. I know their kids. I know their jobs.

And I love it.

The cute lesbian couple asked me tonight when I could take a Friday night off to come to their home for dinner. Another gentleman keeps asking me to come have drinks on his front porch which over looks the ocean. Another couple has repeatedly asked me to come over on my day off to use their pool.

I love how great our guests are.

It feels amazing.

And as the season starts to ramp up, there are so many more people to meet.

I can’t wait!

Last fall I wrote a post about a food runner who skipped work without getting his shifts covered to go on a little trip.

He lost his job.

The friend he went on the trip was also a food runner but he’d gotten his shifts covered.

However.

That friend texts me the next week to tell me he can’t come to work because he’s broken his ankle playing basketball.

He accompanies the text with a photo of a leg with a swollen ankle. No head. No body. Just a shoe. A sock. An ankle.

Hmmmm.

I told him I thought I was sorry and to let us know if he needed anything.

Hmmmm.

Momma wasn’t born yesterday.

I knew he hadn’t broken his ankle. He wanted to visit his girlfriend again in New Jersey.

Who hasn’t called in sick to work to get laid? Especially when you’re 22.

I never heard from him again.

The next day a regular asked where he was. He’d seen him at the gym earlier and had hoped to see him tonight.

I chuckled to myself.

A few weeks later his mom came in and we had a little chat over the matter.

Truth is, he picked the busiest week to stop showing up. I wasn’t mad. But I was disappointed. And I let his mother know as much.

Fast forward to today, and imagine my surprise when I get an email asking me to provide a professional reference for this young man.

I haven’t heard from him since he liked my comment about his broken ankle.

I thought to myself as I read it.

I can do do three things.

Ignore the request.

Do as it asked and provide commentary on his professional qualities or lack there of.

Or lie.

I chose to ignore it.

Fast forward to even later in the day and his mom comes in for dinner. I love his mom and her boyfriend. They are always nice to me, very sweet and very appreciative when I sneak them in.

So on their way out tonight we are chatting about their upcoming wedding and she says, that her son is going to send me a request for a reference.

I take a deep breath.

I say, your son needs to reach out and apologize for leaving me in a bind last summer before he asks for a reference.

This led to conversation about what a great kid he is, what a horrible liar he is, and how he needs to do the right thing.

We chatted a few minutes. I told her I’d be happy to write the reference but I really needed an apology first.

After she left, it reminded me of something a professor at the University of Kentucky told me while I was getting my MA.

Never ask for a reference if you aren’t 9,636,905% sure of what they are going to say. She’d had a student get letters of reference not realizing that one of their professors had written a perfectly average letter. About how average the student was.

I’ve followed this advice for 30+ years.

And I’ve never agreed to write a letter if I couldn’t be enthusiastically positive about the request.

It will be interesting to see if my phone rings tomorrow.

If it does I’ll do the reference.

If it does not then I’ll ignore it.

Although I did tell his mom I could write the reference he might deserve.

Four reservations tonight, arrived and upon being led to the dining room, stopped and asked to be seated at the bar.

One woman insisted that she booked the bar because a high top table is the bar.

I did not argue.

Two women arrived, get redirected to the bar and are seated. They realize a friend is seated across the bar from them and ask to move.

Which brings me to my point.

Do not assume the single man sitting across the bar from you, who happens to know you, wants to sit with you.

Yes he might.

But he might not.

And you’ll never know because you didn’t ask.

You insisted you be moved. So now he’s having dinner with friends whether he wanted to or not.

Fun fact.

The same is true when you are two and there are two friends already seated at the bar. We had a couple last summer who requested to sit near their friends whenever they made a reservation.

Six weeks later, the friends asked if we could say it didn’t work out because they didn’t want to eat with them every time they came to the bar.

So.

When dining at the bar.

Stick with the luck of the plan. If you are seated next to your friend, great.

If not.

Maybe great for them.

Tonight as a couple was leaving I asked how their dinner was.

He said fucking amazing.

His wife went to the restroom.

He asked me how I liked hosting at the restaurant.

Hmmm.

I replied.

I enjoy it. Just not as much as I enjoy being the GM.

He didn’t know what to say back.

I explained that I was the best paid host in southern Maine.

He laughed.

I then said, not necessarily a well paid manager but definitely a well paid host.

We continued to chat.

They were super happy.

I explained that I loved being the face of the restaurant and chatting g with the guests.

His wife came out of the restaurant.

They leave.

They were happy.

I was happy.

Yay.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Sometimes you are made speechless by the most unexpected people.

There is a couple that comes in every Saturday night. I’ve written about them. They are funny. We joke with each other.

Last night on their way out I asked them how their dinner was.

He responds horrible. Awful. I think we got food poisoning.

I replied, sounds about right but fun fact you dont get food poisoning that fast. It takes about 24 hours.

He replied.

We know. We got food poisoning at a ch*#k restaurant last year.

I choked on my reply.

Thanked them for coming in.

And I walked away, thinking to myself that my first impression of them wasn’t as far off as I thought it was.

We got the following survey back today. He gave us a score of 70 with the following feedback.

……..

the steaks, food and service are always outstanding. I love the place and have recommended to many others. I have only one criticism. The management policy of a 2 hour meal, pushing customers to order their entrees quickly and refusal to seat customers at your bar for a quick drink even when reservations are not oversold detracts from the otherwise high quality of the experience. Its a rough edge to an otherwise outstanding experience.

………..

Yes.

Our reservation site asks that you limit your experience to 2 hours so that we may serve as many of our guests as possible.

Fun fact.

Not one server leads with this. Mentions this. Enforces this.

Only twice since I’ve worked here have I asked someone to get up.

Both times it was guests I’d sat after I explained that I could accommodate them, but I needed to table back by a certain time.

No one asks them day of to limit their stay. No one asks them to get up after 2 hours.

And they stayed more than 3 hours. So I know this was true.

As for the bar.

This group arrived fifteen minutes before their reservation. Their table was ready. I sat them.

Fifteen minutes is not enough time to sit at the bar. Get waited on. Enjoy your drink. Pay. And be ready to be seated in 15 minutes.

And I stand by my belief that if you need a drink that badly you seriously need a meeting far more than a drink.

As for not being reserved.

How do you know? A common misconception is that an empty chair means an available spot to sit. You have no idea what the reservations are. And not being over sold is different than being reserved?

On the night he was here the bar did 35 covers. So I’m pretty sure if there were empty chairs they weren’t empty for long.

PS. It wa 2 criticisms. Not 1.

Something that I will never understand are people who support the industry that don’t comprehend how the industry works.

For example.

The time to make a sales call is not at 4:50 on Friday evening when I’m trying to get the doors open.

Tonight at 4:50 a man is banging on the front door.

I tried to ignore him because we are still scurrying around trying to cross our t’s and dot our i’s.

He’s persistent.

I go to the door.

He holds up a bottle and a business card and says he’s there to discuss his companies cleaning supplies.

I said not at 4:50 on Friday night. I take his sample and card and close the door and lock it.

About 5 or six weeks ago a winecrep showed up at 5:15 on a Friday night. He stands in line with all the other people wanting to get seated.

I ask him if he has a reservation.

He says no. That he’s actually here to speak to someone about his wine portfolio. He asks if the owner or the manager is available to taste some things.

I laugh.

Out loud.

And I say not at 5:15 on Friday night.

The owner is cooking. I’m the manager and I’ll be on the door till 10:00.

He asks if he can wait.

I say perhaps you could leave your card. He doesn’t have a card.

I’m handed a catalog.

And they leave.

And I’m still amazed they are in the business without understanding you don’t sell your wares on the 2nd busiest day of the week.

I came home without a thing to write about today.

Work was great.

Everyone was nice.

Nothing but compliments at the door.

We were fairly busy for a Wednesday too.

So we’ll just be grateful and leave it at that!

Tonight I had reservations for dinner with some coworkers. We had about 45 minutes to kill so we met at a bar near the restaurant.

We gathered in the bar at a table.

The bartender presented us with menus immediately. Told us about happy hour etc.

And she never came back.

Nope.

Never.

They weren’t busy. There were six people on one side. And one person near us.

The clock ticked. And ticked.

At first we were amused.

Then we watched her make a drink.

And then talk to the one person sitting near us.

Then make a service drink.

And we sat there. And sat there.

And I’m pretending that it’s okay because I suggested the bar.

But after 15 minutes I finally say. Okay. This was a bad idea and we left.

And I don’t think the bartender even noticed.

Instead we went to the bar of the restaurant we had reservations at and had oysters and cocktails.

We didn’t complain. Or make a scene. It just made me sad.

Around 7:00 I’m standing in my office door when a man enters the lobby.

I ask him how his dinner was.

He’s says it was okay.

I step into the lobby and say just okay?

He says, I don’t mean to complain but it wasn’t very good. Neither of our steaks were cooked well. Mine was over cooked

I interrupt to ask if he sent it back.

He did not.

He continues. His wife’s steak was so full of gristle, that she couldn’t eat it.

He continues saying this is his third time here and it’s never been good. The quality is less than stellar and sometimes barely edible.

He then says, he noticed a lot of people eating burgers at the bar and maybe we should just stick to burgers.

I kind of apologize.

He leaves.

90 seconds later he’s standing in my door wanting to know where we source our meat, because he used to be in the business and says we should definitely be ordering a better quality.

I thank him for his advice.

He leaves.

A few points.

Yes, people at the bar eat burgers. People at the bar also eat 175 dollar Wagyu tomahawk ribeyes so there’s that.

I speak to about 80% of the people who come in our restaurant. 99.999 of them love it.

When I ask how their dinners were:

Do you even need to ask?

We’ve never had a bad meal here.

This was the best steak I’ve ever had.

This place is amazing.

So.

For the same man to have had three bad experiences either means he has the worst luck ever or he’s never going to be happy.

I know what I think.