Tonight around 5:30, a server approached me in the office to let me know a guest was unhappy.

She’d ordered a medium rare filet. And she was insisting it came out medium well.

The server suggested they’d perhaps they’d given her, her husbands filet by mistake. But no. His was great.

The server had taken the steak back to the kitchen and shown the chef the steak.

His head might have exploded.

Why you ask?

The server said the chef wanted to see me.

So I walk through the dining room so I can get a look at the table.

I get to the kitchen, and the chef hands me the plate. It’s the picture of a perfect medium rare filet. Like they’d put this steak in a magazine as to what it should look like.

The chef looks at me and says I’m not cooking her another one. This one is perfect.

I ask what he wants me to do.

He says I don’t care. She can leave for all I care. I shouldn’t have to pay for a steak that was prepared exactly as she ordered it.

I ask him to replate the steak.

And I take it back to the table.

I set it down in front of the woman and say, my server said you asked for your steak to be prepared medium rare. This is a picture perfect medium rare. We are confused as to why you sent it back.

She looks at me.

I look at her.

I should point out that when she first got the steak she cut it into five or six pieces. Don’t do this if there is a chance you might send it

I walk away.

Thirty seconds later the server comes back to the kitchen with the steak and says she’s refusing to eat it.

The chef eventually sends out a black and blue steak which she still complains about.

She did tip well.

But informed the server that she was appalled that I brought the steak back to the table. That I was rude and inappropriate. She then asked for my name and the server said it’s Jeff. He’s our general manager.

I can’t wait to field that call next week.

Around 5:30 tonight the host comes up to me saying a woman on the phone is insisting she talk to me.

I ask who she is, and I’m informed that the woman wants to make a reservation for the chef’s table in two weeks. The host has done what she has been instructed to do. She has told the woman that she will make a note of the request but she can’t guarantee it will be available.

The woman is insisting that she speak to me.

I tell the host to take her name and number and that I will call her back. It’s 5:30 on Saturday night. It will wait.

The information is gathered.

The evening continues.

Around 7:00 during the middle of the 2nd turn I’m at the host stand. The phone rings. I pick up and it’s a woman who is outraged that I have not called her back yet. It’s been 90 minutes. It’s a Saturday night.

She asks if I’m Jeff. I say no. She then complains about me and wants to know if her reservation has been made. I explain it has not been made. She makes it. No mention of the chef’s table.

Seriously. Read the room.

I’m trying to decide now if I should call her back tomorrow.

We were busy tonight. But not as busy as the past few Saturday nights.

We were all chatting about it and someone mentioned that it might because of Lent. We are a steak house and people do give up meat, alcohol etc for Lent.

What are your thoughts.

PS. It also snowed today, so maybe you know it’s Winter.

The phone rings today.

Hello thank you for calling. How may I help you?

Hello. Would you have a reservation for two tonight?

Would you like the bar or the dining room?

The dining room please.

Unfortunately I don’t have any tables in the dining room tonight. We are booked.

We’ll how long are you open?

Our last reservation is at 8:30 tonight.

Then I’ll take a reservation at 8:30 then.

I’m sorry we are booked in the dining room tonight.

Then I can just come in and sit at the bar at 8:30?

Not always we might be full. Would like you like to make a reservation?

You should said you were full. What’s your capacity?

Huh?

What’s your capacity. How many people can you seat?

I don’t know? I’m not sure I understand?

How many seats? How many tables? What’s your capacity?

(At this point I make a conscious decision to stop being nice).

I have no idea how this this matters.

I want to know your capacity.

Sir. If you want a reservation let me know.

We’ll I live up the street. What to decide if it would be worth coming there three times a week.

………

So what’s you capacity.

Sir. We are full in the dining room. Our capacity doesn’t change that.

Your customer skills are lacking.

Huh?

Yes, you aren’t impressing me. Your customer service skills are lacking.

I’m not following but okay.

I’m trying to decide if I want to come there three times a week. What are your specials tonight.

I have no idea. I’ll find out at 4:30 when everyone does.

So when’s your last reservation.

At 8:30.

So I can just come in.

No sir. You will need a reservation.

Okay. I’ll take a reservation in the dining room.

…….

…….

All I have is at the bar.

He finally makes a reservation. He gives me his number.

He hangs up.

He never showed.

I kind of wonder if I was being played. The conversation was sooooo weird.

To quote one of my staff members, it’s always important to read the room.

What does this mean?

Look around. Figure out what’s going on. Is it the time? Or the place?

Tonight around 10:15 one of the bartenders comes out to say he has someone he wants to meet.

I tell him I’ll be right there.

I don’t mind. I love meeting our guests.

So I go in.

And within 6 tenths of a second I realize the angle.

The girl he’s introduced me to, is looking for a job.

She begins to bombard me with questions about are we hiring? What are we looking for? She calls off her resume! Etc. etc. etc.

This goes on for about 20 minutes.

Referring back to last weeks post about trust your gut, I’m getting a bad read on her. Something is just not right.

Then she shared that the reason she quit her last job was because she had an emotional issue because of all the drama with her owners.

Ahhhh.

Top ten things not to say while looking for a job in a restaurant.

1. My least favorite thing about waiting tables is having to get things for people.
2. The last time I was angry at work was when I punched the bartender.
3. Hi I’m addicted to heroin, but I’m trying to get clean.
4. The reason I quit my last job was because the got mad that I was alway ten minutes late.
5. I know I applied for the food runner position but I’m a bartender and I only want to bartend.
6. Yes, I know it’s July 28, but I can only work till August 10.
7. Yes, I’ve applied for a food running position at a seafood restaurant , but you should know that I have a severe seafood allergy. If even the juice from an oyster touches me, I’ll need my epi pen.
8. Yes, I’d like to be a server, but I have a curfew and have to be at my home by 9:00.
9. I want to work her but I can only work on Friday or Saturday.
10. I left my last job because I had a nervous breakdown from the stress.

All of these are true. No embellishments. No exaggeration. My favorites are #1 and #2.

My gut says no on lady at the bar.

Don’t ask for a job at the end of my 10 hour day.

And #10.

Last fall, right after I took over hosting as all of my staff had gone off to college, a lovely lady called to make a reservation.

Her name was Ruthie and she was looking for seats at the bar. I made the reservation. 2 people at 5:00.

Later that night, she arrived. She was about 5’2” and was as sweet as could be. She had her wife in tow whose name was Jane.

Seriously, you have never met anyone sweeter.

That night on their way out, I chatted with them. They lived in Mass and had just bought a vacation home up north. They shared stories, details etc.

And they left.

Since then they have become regulars. They make a trip in at least once during their visits. Always early. They stay 2 hours and are always nothing but pleasant.

They came in tonight.

It was great to see them.

I chatted with them at the bar while they waited for their entrees.

At the end of the night we all say our goodbyes.

They leave.

About 6 minutes later, my new host (her second day) comes up with the cordless phone and says there is a woman on the phone with a problem.

I answer the phone as I walk toward the host stand.

There is no one there, but the new host has figured out it was Ruthie.

So, I call her back. I can’t imagine what the problem would be.

She is super excited that I called back.

She called to let me know that the moon had risen over our back parking lot and has two rings around it. She insists I go look at the moon immediately. She says it’s stunning.

I thank her for letting me know and she hangs up.

It might be one of the nicest thing a guest has ever done.

Unfortunately I was busy, and never made it out there.

It was overcast when I left.

I’m sure it was beautiful though.

Phone rings today.

Thank you for calling_______. How may I help you?

I don’t give my name. I never give my name.

Yes. I’d like to place a take out order please.

I’m sorry. We don’t do take out.

………..

……….

WOW! You mean I can’t get food to go.

No you can’t. Im sorry.

I don’t understand. You mean to eat your food I have to come in and sit there.

Uhhhh. Yes.

……….

……….

We’ll. That’s most peculiar.

………..

Okay then.

Click.

The backstory.

Before COVID we did not do takeout. For about 90 seconds during COVID we did takeout as a way to keep the doors open and the staff employed.

It did not last long.

We have not done take out since I’ve been there.

Why you ask??

Well.

First, any restaurant I’ve worked in unless takeout was truly part of the business model has struggled to keep the supplies organized and stocked so that you are not suddenly out of lids for ramekins or plastic ware, or napkins. And if you think McDonald’s struggles to get take out correct and THAT is their business model then a full service restaurant almost always fucks it up. No sauce. Wrong burger. No French fries.

So the kitchen tanks under takeout just to disappoint the guest anyway.

Plus. Takeout supplies are expensive. During COVID we did tons of research on environmental carry out containers that did not cost a small fortune.

And.

The biggest reason we don’t do take out.

Our food doesn’t travel well.

Steaks don’t stop cooking when you take it off the grill. It’s going to continue to cook till it cools.

Grilled broccolini doesn’t microwave well.

Pasta for Olive Garden can be microwaved. Your pork chop does not.

Meanwhile your 60 dollar filet is now medium well when you wanted it to be medium rare.

So the answer is no.

We don’t do takeout.

Adam and I celebrated our anniversary in January. We dined out at his restaurant. When we were seated there was a card on the table with a happy anniversary message.

I was impressed and thought it would be nice to do something like that at my restaurant.

So after talking about it at work, we decided we would do postcards, that could double as souvenirs, and that we can also write messages on.

So our marketing team, designed 10 postcards.

And about three weeks ago we started leaving birthday, anniversary, etc messages on them at the table.

Tonight at the beginning of the shift the cards were placed on the table.

6 birthdays. 1 anniversary. 1 graduation.

And the night starts. And it’s essentially uneventful.

The last reservation of the night was the graduation table.

They arrive. They are seated. And I let the kitchen know we are all in.

30 seconds later their server pulls me aside to ask if they are the right table?

Turns out it’s no one’s graduation.

Hmmm

I stop by the table. They are laughing about it but no graduation.

I go to the iPad and confirm that indeed their visit note says graduation. Not just a tag. But typed out. With yesterdays date.

I check the history.

He made the reservation himself.

I check the tag. He definitely did it himself, because if it was on our end I’d be able to edit it.

We still have no idea what happened.

But happy graduation.

Around 8:30 tonight the phone rings.

I’m seated at the chef’s table working on my laptop.

I answer and a woman says Are you open later on weekends?

I say excuse me?

She says are you open later on weekends?

I say, later than what?

She says that our website says we are open till 8:30 on weekends, is that correct or are we open later.

I don’t get into, but I wanted to point out that our website says we are open 5:00 till close. We haven’t had a closing time on our website since last October. I’m sure she’s referring to Google and fun fact Google is not our website.

I explain that on Friday’s and Saturdays we take our last reservation at 8:30. So we don’t technically close at 8:30 but we stop seating at 8:30.

She then asks what happens after that? Do you have a piano bar???

Huh?

I say, I’m sorry. You cut out can you repeat that??

She says again, do you have a piano bar?

I say no.

We’ll do you have live music???

I say no. No piano bar. No live music.

She asks again what time we close.

I explain again that we stop seating at 8:30.

She then wants to know if we have any availability on Saturday.

I say yes. Then offer her some choices.

She says she’ll think about it and call back.

She hangs up.

What I wouldn’t give to sing show tunes around a piano on Saturday night at my restaurant. Suddenly Seymour anyone?

Want to know what takes up more of a server’s time than it should?

Want to know one of the more irritating things a server has to deal with?

Want to know one of the things that piss us all off a lot?

People who fight over who is going to pay.

Back in 1902 I lived in Atlanta. I always tell people it was before Lenox Mall had a 2nd story.

I had just come out of the closet. I hung out a lot with my friends. And even back then, you either threw your share into the pile, or you just paid knowing someone would get you next time.

A friend I had back then once said to me, if someone offers to pay, don’t argue, don’t put up a fight. Say thank you gracefully, and it’s on you to pay next time.

I lived my life like that since 1902.

But you would not believe the arguments, the hassle, the pain in the neck it is with people insisting they get to pay.

Since someone put me in charge (actually it was true when I waited tables) whomever asks first gets to pay.

End of discussion.

No you can’t tip me extra.

No you won’t get me fired.

No I don’t want to hear why.

The other dude at your table gave me his credit card an hour ago. He gets to pay.

Sorry.

Ask earlier next time.

And.

The thing that most annoys me???

Money isn’t even a thing with most of the people. They have a yacht in their back yard. They have three summer homes. They have a private chef and a personal assistant. They have a driver. Their every day car is a Bentley.

Take the money you wanted to spend on dinner and give it to a homeless family.