I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Where does one start when it’s the first day of the week and there is so, so much to chat about? 

First the exodus has started. 

My staff is starting to leave to go back to college.  Thus I was on the door by myself tonight.  This is my life for the foreseeable future.  I love, love, love being the face of the restaurant, but it’s very hard to manage from the front door.  There is no way to know about pacing, how the kitchen is doing, who is in the weeds, who’s on their cell phone, who is standing around doing nothing.  And every time I walked away tonight, I came back to find people pacing in the lobby. 

The other problem with being on the door by myself is that I can’t answer the phone.  The phone was ringing when I got to work today.  It was still ringing at 10:30.  It never stops.  At the beginning of the summer it caused me such anxiety.  Not so much anymore.  I answer when I can; I hit silence when I can’t.  I try to answer when it’s a name I recognize on the reservation list. 

Nancy left a message today before I got to work.  I returned her call during my message time.  She did not take my call.  I think I saw 15 or so calls from her tonight, all for a reservation two weeks from now.  I’m tempted to tell her we are booked when I do call her back. 

I had a phone call from the local company whose employees don’t tip more than 10% tonight.  I told them we were booked.  This time of year, I can fill the table three times over.  Protecting our staff is as important as anything. 

I suspect that I could have added 30 more covers tonight, if I’d had a co-host.  We’ll never know.  I do know that things behind me went smoothly, and sometimes smooth trumps revenue. 

I told a server tonight that once again I’d gotten a review (two in the last week) that said I was rude and arrogant. 

Without missing a beat she said, well are you?

How the fuck dare her?

I thought that but answered her— probably. 

The truth is I do have an air of arrogance (or confidence) that I’ve never had before. 

I work in a fucking amazing restaurant.  This is not my opinion.  I just say thank you as person after person after person after person leaves the restaurant telling us that we are the best restaurant they’ve eaten in for years.  They say that we serve better steaks than big restaurants that are known for their beef.  They say that our service is second to none.  Night after night after night the compliments flow. 

After almost 14 months, I believe it. 

So when someone dares say that we are bad, without evidence to back it up I take it personally.   I’m convinced 100% of the time that they’d be unhappy at a 5-star Michelin restaurant.   I don’t know if they are hangry?  Or if they are entitled?  Or if they are just unhappy?  But I take it personally. 

And in my confidence in the restaurant that I work at, I am not a pushover.  If you have a legitimate complaint then fuck year we are going to fix it.  But if you are unhappy about something out of our control then —  NO!

Tonight, we had the owners of other restaurants in our area in for dinner. 

A family of three, who own 2 restaurants up near where we live, she stopped on her way out to express her love.  She couldn’t stop saying how amazing the experience was. 

A couple who own a restaurant in the same town as our restaurant was in and they too, loved everything. 

I had the same conversation with both owners.

The chat turned to angry August, and they both said, that this year had been worse than ever, and that this year they were less tolerant than ever before.  To quote one, I have drawn a line in the sand, walk up to the line and you are fine.  Cross the line and we are done.  You can dine elsewhere. 

We are all out of fucks to give.

Come.  Have a great time.  Enjoy the experience.  But be kind.    And if you can’t be kind you don’t get to play with us. 

Which leads me to table G-9 tonight.

The server comes to me and says that table G-9 would like to speak with me.  They wouldn’t tell him what they wanted. 

This is tricky as I am on the door and can’t be gone for a long time.  I find a food runner to be a place holder. 

I go the table. 

The man stands up and asks if we can go outside, he is by an exit door.

UGH.  I don’t have time for this.

He starts.

His wife ordered the tuna and it arrived raw.  When it was recooked, it came back over done.   He then proceeds to tell me his steak is not good and then says, with a straight face:

What are you going to do for me?

Ugh.  I’ve been down this road before.  They are looking for a free meal.  No one.  I repeat no one says that unless they’ve played this game before.

I look back at his table.  His wife’s tuna has 2 bites left, and his steak has about ½ left.

Here’s the thing.  His steak was perfect.  I checked with the server and it was a t-bone, thicker than usual, cooked a perfect medium rare.  His wife’s tuna came out almost raw, because it’s supposed to come out rare.  It’s seared.  To cook it more is okay, but not what we recommend. 

I look at him and say your wife has eaten almost all of her tuna.  I’ll remove the steak but that’s the best I can do.  I don’t apologize.  I saw the tuna today as it was being prepped.  It was fucking beautiful.  A perfect shade of red.  That shit is meant to be eaten raw. 

I go back to the host stand. 

And back to seating. 

It’s approaching 7:00.  The lobby is getting busier. 

When who should appear?

Mr. unhappy himself.   

I brace myself for what is coming.  He tells me all the ways that we were bad.  The word he uses is lousy. His steak was lousy.  The tuna was lousy.  The rest of the food was lousy.  The cocktail he ordered was lousy.  The service was lousy.  And I was the lousiest of them all. 

I wait for him to finish, which takes a while.  I’m not one to be able to quote conversations verbatim which is why I take notes as soon as it’s over.  He says something that pisses me off and I calmly look at him and say,

Sir, you were looking for free food.  You picked the wrong restaurant and the wrong manager.  There was nothing wrong with your food or your drinks.  You are just mad that you have to pay for it. 

He starts to yell, and the lobby is watching in horror. 

He keeps on.  I finally tell him the conversation is over and he needs to go.  He then says my favorite:  I’m going to destroy you in online reviews. 

I say as I always do:  You do what you have to do.  We won’t be held hostage by the threat of a bad review.

He then asks my name, I reply, it’s JEFF.  J-E-F-F.  If you are going to mention me make sure you spell my name correctly.

He storms out.

I don’t have a second to breathe when a woman steps in front of me and without missing a beat, I say, welcome.  Do you have a reservation for tonight?

She smiles and asks me if I’m okay.  I assure her that  I am, and that I am sorry she had to witness the behavior.

The three groups behind her all say the same thing.

He was actually helpful as I sat all of these people late, and they were nice to me. 

Line in the sand.

He left the following review:  Start by firing the manager.  Then get a better chef, and then lowering the prices. 

It said everything I needed it to say to know I was right.  I’m just sad he didn’t use my name.

I should have been done for the night, but oh no tonight was a two-for. 

Around 7:50 I noticed a reservation on table 25 had disappeared.  I go looking….did they move outside, did I mark them as seated by mistake….

I find them.  They had cancelled their reservation. 

They cancelled at 7:50 for an 8:30 reservation.  

I get everyone seated for the night and then I do as I always do, I charge the people who cancelled after 2:00 p.m.  Tonight it was the five top at table #25.  $125.

I think nothing of it. 

Around 15 minutes later the phone rings and I don’t answer.  At this point we are in for the night, they can leave a message and I’ll call them back tomorrow. 

I hear the message.

Hi, this is Mary, blah, blah, blah.  I was charged, blah, blah, blah, I insist someone call me back tonight no matter what time as I need to get to the bottom of this. 

I laugh thinking that I won’t be calling her back tonight and I go back to waiting at the host stand for people to leave. 

About 6 minutes later a car pulls in and I say to the server standing next to me, I wonder what these people want.  It’s approaching 9:00. 

A woman walks in and starts.

Someone made a reservation in my name, I didn’t do it, but I cancelled it this afternoon and you charged me $125.

I listen and say, you made a reservation for 5 people today at 2:58. 

She insists that she didn’t.

I turn the I-pad around and show her that she did.

She changes her story and says that she was trying to make a reservation for Sunday, but she never actually booked, she was just looking at availability.

I turn the I-pad back around and say; you did indeed book at 2:58 for 5 people tonight.

Well I cancelled hours ago.

I turn the I-pad back around and say you cancelled at 7:50. 

She says, well I cancelled before the reservation.

And I say, you cancelled less than an hour before the reservation and I have spent the night telling people no when your table is empty.  Go look.  It’s empty. 

She gets louder and louder. 

I stay calm. 

She keeps repeating that she didn’t make the reservation and that she cancelled well before the actual time of the reservation.

 I interrupt her to point out a few things.

First, she booked a reservation through our system.  There are at least five or six steps including confirming that you understand that you will be charged if you fail to show for your reservation.  You have to give me your credit card information.  It’s not like you tossed your phone into your purse and accidently booked a reservation. 

Second, you knew you booked because you’d have gotten a text and an email confirmation.

You made a reservation, you got charged for not showing  and there is nothing I am going to do about it.

She changes tactics, and begins to tell me that she comes here all the time and that she sends people here all the time. 

TWO BIG POINTS TO MAKE:

First the machine doesn’t lie.  The tab I am on to show the time that youyou made the reservation and the time you cancelled it is the history tab.  It also shows all of your reservation history.  You’ve been here  a total of three times.  Once this year and twice last year. 

And the biggest point of all.

If you were indeed a regular, as you say, you’d have walked in and said hey Jeff I think there’s been a mistake.  And I would have said, Oh, no Mary what happened.

But you had no idea who I was, and I’d never seen you before.

I have missed 7 days of work in a year.  5 days with my gall bladder surgery in November and 2 days with COVID in February.  Those are not days you were here. 

If.  You.  Were.  A regular.  We would know each other.  You might not like me and god knows there are regulars who don’t like me, but we all know each other. 

She changes tactics once again and says to me; before I leave I want to ask you a question: 

Are you calling me a liar? 

Fuck.

I sidestep and say I’m not calling you anything I just know the reservation was made.

Are you calling me a liar?

I’m not saying that.

Are you calling me a liar?

I’m not saying that.

Fine, you’ve said everything I need to know. 

By this time she is shouting.

She storms out saying good luck with that.  Good luck with that. 

And I think to myself.  How much bourbon can I drink and legally drive home?

On a more positive note, I had a nice chat with wedding dad and wedding groom and they booked their rehearsal dinner for next October at my restaurant after dad apologized a million times for not understanding how restaurants work.

It was also cute because wedding groom had told dad we probably do about 40 people a night in our dining room, and that was why they didn’t understand the pricing. 

I explained that I seat that many people 15 minutes before we open in our dining room.  And that it’s about 5 times that number. 

8 more weeks till Indigenous People’s Day. 

Can every day be bring Jeff bourbon day?