I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I’ve been back down south for over a year now. 

And I’ve reconnected with lots of people who used to come to my restaurant.

But, every once in a while I think to myself I wonder if this person, or that couple still comes to our little town.

For example there is the couple I met one winter, who became regulars, who were staying in the hotel.  They were there because he’d just gotten out of the hospital after recovering from a heart attack.  He was 53.  His doctor told him to change his ways or else.  So they’d leave the kids at home and he and his wife would come visit.  He’d eat salmon, and drink iced tea.  And try to be healthy. 

There was the older couple who used to own a group of liquor and wine stores in Massachusetts.   They came all year.  One day, they show up with a bottle of really, really expensive bubbles and give it to me.  I thanked them and asked why they were giving it to me.  They said because the last time they had dined with us, I’d told them that we were having a wedding.  They thought that Adam and I had gotten married.  We had a big laugh when I explained that the restaurant was hosting a wedding, and that Adam has yet to say yes. 

There is also the couple that I met one night after the man sat at our bar for four hours insisting that his date was going to show up.  He had dinner.  And a few drinks.  And a few more drinks.  His date, who was his wife, showed up right before closing.  He introduced me and I ended up getting them dinner reservation for the next night at a sister property.  They continued to come back and shared later that they had conceived their daughter that night.  Turns out they’d had a big fight and eaten dinner separately.  I have not seen them since I started my new job. 

And there was the family who would come in three or four times a summer.  A mom, a dad and three boys.  The whole family was beautiful. The couple was mixed race.  And their sons were perfect.     Remarkably attractive.  Straight out of a magazine.

And what would you know that I looked up at the door tonight and the wife was standing in front of me.  And I might have fangirled out over it and I’m 99% sure that I made her uncomfortable. 

But I told her that since I’d been back in town there were people I wondered about occasionally and it was finally nice to see them again.  Her sons were no longer boys.   They were young men.  At least one of them was old enough to drink now.  (We hope).  And my two hosts were in love.  They were model, beautiful.   Seriously, any of the three could be on a runway. 

It was so great to see the whole family.    

They were so nice and I hope they had a good time. 

And I’m sure I made them uncomfortable. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

My day was the same as it always is.

Got up, showered, out the door in 13.5 minutes. 

Ignoring the cat throw up by the back door hoping that Adam wouldn’t be mad that I didn’t clean it up.   

Get in my car, and drive to work. 

I call Adam before I pull out of the driveway most days, so that I can be hands-free.

Most days we chat for about 3 minutes, because he is busy, busy, busy.

Today was the same.

I then turn on the radio, and the first thing I hear is the DJ saying, sometimes, I take my dog into restaurants and say he’s a service animal.  Don’t beat be up, it’s my first day here and I don’t want to cause any trouble.

And I think to myself…what a fucked up world… 

Seriously?  You make it worse for the people who actually have and more importantly NEED service animals. 

And at 4:56 today, I hear a call on my radio to come to the patio.  I get there and what would you know a woman is standing in the parking lot not looking happy because she has been told we don’t allow dogs. 

However, she insists that she called and we told her that of course we are dog friendly.

We are not. 

Thankfully it was cool enough by 5:00 that they could leave the dog in the car and still enjoy dinner.

But don’t do that people. 

Don’t.

Don’t put your dog in your purse.  Don’t bring it in a carrier.  Don’t tell me your therapy dog is a support animal.  Because while I respect the need for both, they are not the same.

And please for the love of all things holy don’t tell people you do this on the radio. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Two things happened of tonight that are worth mentioning.

First.

A woman walked in with a cup of wine in her hand.

I ask her if I could take that, and without a thought handed it to me and said, I was just looking for a trash can.  She said the rubbish actually. 

And what would you know?  She was seated.  Had a marvelous dinner with her 16 family members and couldn’t thank me enough for the event.

See.  It’s not hard to do the right thing.

Meanwhile, at 6:45 tonight our parking lot was full.  It has been a problem all summer.  We have more staff and they take up more spots. 

AND.

We have more guests and they take up more spots. 

Although, it wouldn’t be a problem at all if each person dining in my restaurant didn’t come in their own individual car.  I’ve watched families, who live together come in separate cars.  There is a family who lives about .000001 miles from my restaurant and they drive.  EVERY SINGLE TIME. 

So tonight at 6:45 I’m in the restaurant and I see a car parked illegally. 

Now, full disclosure.  He’s parked illegally where cars park every day.   

BUT:

He’s parked horizontally (I’ve used this word in two posts tonight) taking up three spots.  Yes the AUDI he is driving is nice but not when it’s sitting next to the Bentley’s, Lamborghinis, and Maserati’s that are often in our parking lot. 

I catch the driver as he is looking for his companions who are each in their own cars. 

I walk up to him and say, hey, do you mind parking horizontally so more cars can fit in that area.

And he snaps at me and says, YOU KNOW THERE IS NO PARKING OUT HERE.  YOU NEED MORE PARKING NOW!!!

Seriously?

I look at him and think what would you like me to do?  Pull some out of my ass.  Instead I say thin air.

And he says yeah, do you have a fucking magic want. 

I can’t already.

He goes to move the car.  I go inside. 

I realize as I go inside, I actually know him.  He and his three friends come in all the time in the winter.  I did not recognize him with his sunglasses. 

When I see him sitting at the chef’s table and realize who he is, I check the reservation to make sure then go back to find him.

He isn’t there but I see him in the parking lot.

He was looking for me to apologize for being such a dick.  I told him appreciated that, and that I was sorry I was short with him.

We chatted for a few minutes and then he went back in to dinner.  I spoke to the table before they got their entrees and he sought me out again when they were leaving. 

He was very nice and I told him we’d laugh about it this winter when there were more empty parking spots than people in the building. 

He agreed.

It was nice change of pace to say the least. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!!

Hi all!!!

Thanks for all the insight into the ID question. 

The points of view were quite interesting.

First, the kid did drink in my establishment last night.  He had a Moscow Mule.  (Who knew a 19 year old even knew what that was).  He showed the server the ID.  And how do I know this?  Because I spoke to my staff about this at pre-shift today and his server from last night knew exactly how old he was. 

Second, it was not someone else’s ID.  Both ID’s had his name on them.  The real ID had his photo from when he was probably 15 and got the ID.  The fake ID was taken more recently, and was definitely him.  Two different birthdays though. 

It was a California ID and in CA, when the person is under 21 the ID is vertical.  When you renew you get a horizontal ID.  He had one of each. 

As for looking in his wallet:   It was not a wallet like mine, which is a George Constanza wallet. It had a couple of credit cards an ID and a fake ID. 

As for whether or not I remove it is stealing, I don’t know.  I’m not a police officer nor am I a lawyer.  I have friends who are both who read this, perhaps they’d like to weigh in.

Last night on my way home, I had decided to return it.  18 year old Jeff, getting in to bars at Eastern Kentucky University, appreciated the ID he purchased in NYC back in 1902. 

Many of you support my stance.

I did know that I wanted to read your responses before I made a final decision.

I got to work today and checked voicemails.  While I was checking the voicemails, he called.  I didn’t answer not to be difficult but as a practice I don’t answer any calls until I record the messages and sit down with coffee for the day at the chef’s table.

After I sat down, I pulled out my phone and read your responses.   

Two things stood out.

One of my friends said that 18 year old her would have been grateful, but the 44 year old her with a teenage son, thought differently.

This coupled with a post I read from another friend who said that two teenagers, who attended her son’s school, had been killed by  drunk drivers this week and my decision was made.

The kid is rich. 

He won’t have trouble getting another ID.  He was underage drinking last night with his mom present, so she’s not really the adult in the situation.

If I can stop him from killing someone for the next month while he waits for his new ID to come then so be it.

And if it is against the law, then I guess I’ll take my punishment.

Meanwhile, he never called back.  The ID is in my office.  His wallet is at the host stand waiting. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

The weather here finally broke this week. 

Last week was hot and humid.  Think central Kentucky hot, with temps in the high 90’s and the only way the humidity could be higher was if it were actually raining.

Hot.  Muggy.  Sweltering. 

Oppressive to quote my friend Donna Jo. 

The a/c in our restaurant struggled all last week.  It is not meant to work as hard as it was, because temps aren’t supposed to be that hot here.

Today was the opposite. 

Today was one of those perfect days here.  The right temp all day.

And inside it was the perfect amount of cool. 

At least to me.

Table 37 was seated at 7:00 and the first thing they did was to complain about the temperature.  The women were cold. 

I moved the thermostat from 70* to 71*.  They were happy. 

And it stayed on 71* for about an hour, until I came in from outside at one point and it was HOT in the dinning room.  HOT. 

I was glad Jen was not working as she’d have been melting. 

So, I moved the thermostat from 71* to 70* and wouldn’t you know 90 seconds later the server comes and tells me the table 37 is cold again.

And I think to myself, do I turn the thermostat up for five people or leave it where it is for 102 people. 

I left it alone.

Sometimes my comfort trumps everyone else’s comfort. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

One of our last reservations tonight was a table of young people, I’d guess 17, 18, 19, and they were seated at the chef’s table.  They were very nicely behaved and ordered well.  Mom did arrive just after entrees were delivered and stayed and paid the check. 

One of the kids ordered a drink from the bar.  I didn’t ask but I certainly hope that the server carded him.

They were very pleasant, stayed far longer than I thought they would, as they were the second to last table to leave for the evening.

I thanked them as they were leaving, and went back to my laptop.

Fast forward 90 minutes and I’m closing up the restaurant.  I go into the lobby to plug the IPad in to charge overnight and I see a wallet on the host stand.  No one had mentioned finding a wallet, but they left it where they were supposed to. 

I open the wallet and it belongs to the young person who made the reservation for tonight for the 4 top.  I know this because his ID is front and center like it would be in most wallets.  

I don’t know why I checked the wallet, but I looked in one of the pockets and what would you know it was another ID. 

The first ID which was a photo of him said he’d turn 21 in 2024. 

The second ID said he was 22 and was born in 2000. 

I thought to myself hmmm…..

Do I keep the fake ID?  Or do I return it to the wallet and say nothing?

19 year old Jeff would have been very happy to have the ID returned to him. 

Rule following, 57 year old Jeff said to keep the ID and tell him to be more careful next time. 

WWJD? 

I put the ID back.  But he won’t be able to get the wallet until I get there tomorrow. 

So, here is my question:

What would you do? 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s late.  2:24 a.m. to be exact.

But this story needs to be told.

Tonight at 6:00 a 4 top walks in.  2 of them are people I don’t know.  2 of them are people are regulars and most often sit at the bar.

I panic.  They don’t have a reservation.  The woman of the couple, who sits at the bar, sees my panic and says, we are with our friends.  The reservation is in their name.

I make a show of wiping my brow and saying, thank god, because the bar is booked tonight and I didn’t want to disappoint you.

I look at their reservation and ask if they’d like to sit at the chef’s table.

The woman I know is super excited.  I get them all seated and the night goes on as planned.

They take forever.  I don’t care.  There is no turn on the table, and they are so sweet. 

At long last they come out and the woman I don’t know enters the lobby first.

I ask her how the meal was, and she exclaims that it was perfect.

Then she says, do you know why we are here?

And I say no why?

And she says because my husband and I got married on the same day, of the same month, of the same year that our friends got married.

I’m blown away by this.

The woman I do know is standing at the host stand now and says yes.  61 years ago today, we both married the man of our dreams. 

I make a comment, that after 61 years that she still seems to like her husband.  She then explains that they have been together since she was 13 and he was 15.  61 years married.

And I can’t help but smile.

They are so sweet.  And lovely.  And have dinner with us at least once a week. 

And I love them now more than ever. 

Although she did let me know they are traveling next week and won’t be back for two weeks.

I aspire to be them. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Sometimes what I witness at work makes me sad.  And angry. 

Tonight a very elderly woman comes out of the dining room.  I ask her how her meal was and she says that it was wonderful.

She says that she seems to have lost her husband but that she is going to the restroom.  She is concerned because she is carrying her left overs. 

I tell her that I will watch over them while she goes to the restroom.

They are sitting on the counter and a man walks out and asks if I’ve seen his wife.  I say that she is in the restroom.  He says to tell her he is in the car.  I ask if he’d like to take her left overs, and he says, fuck no.  Then he repeats himself and leaves.

And I think to myself.  What a horrible man. 

On Monday, I return a voicemail and a woman picks up.  She is looking for a 6:30 reservation for 2 people in the dining room.  I tell her that I can’t do 6:30 but that I can do 7:00.  I hear her ask her husband and he says something and she says, please, let’s go, we’ve been trying to go for three weeks.  I can’t understand what he says, but she is pleading with him to make 7:00 work.  She asks at least three times and then finally says, I’m sorry 7:00 won’t work. 

I want to reach through the phone and punch him.

Last summer, I hit play on the answering machine and discover not a message but an argument.  I can only hear one side of the conversation, but lest we think men are the only assholes, the woman was horrible. 

She called the man on the other side of the phone about a million different things, with the word fucking preceding most of them. 

I stopped listening at 10 minutes.

I recorded about 6 minutes of it, before I deleted the message.

But seriously, be nice to your people-people. 

Tonight during service, I hear a dozen voicemails being left but at one point I hear someone say that they need to cancel tonight, but I didn’t get their name or time of their reservation.

I had a server who was a little quiet tonight and I ask her to just listen to the messages, to find the name on the cancellation.

She is in the office for a million years and comes out and tells me who cancelled.

She is standing by the host stand an hour or so later and says, oh my god. The messages have so much unneeded information. I can’t imagine how long it takes to listen and write them all down.

And it’s true. A typical voice mail from today:

Hi, this is Bill Smith, I was in the local men’s clothing store and the lady who works there said that I would be missing the meal of a lifetime if I didn’t try your restaurant. We are visiting from New York and we know steakhouses, so if your restaurant is really that good then we of course have to try it. We’ll be staying at the All American resort while we are in town and they have a shuttle that can bring us to the restaurant. There will be four of us, my wife, and my son and his girlfriend who is visiting from San Diego. She flew in today. We need to eat early as she will tired So we will want a reservation for tonight for 4 of us at 6:30. Also, the lady at the clothing store said we should ask for the cow room. It’s the room with the barn doors, she said it’s the best table in the restaurant. Of course if that won’t work, there are high tops in front of the kitchen that are supposed to be quite nice. We wouldn’t mind sitting there, but if there are stools at the high tops, we can’t sit there if the stools don’t have backs as my wife has a running injury, from the New York City Marathon last year. It was her 17th marathon and I’m so proud of her. The woman also said that we should come early and have drinks on the patio because that is lovely as well. So we’ll be arriving around 6:00 and as I said, we’d like a table at 6:30. My phone number is 986-6789. Thanks!

This is not an exaggeration. Every. Fucking. Voicemail is 6 years long. And fun fact. Bill didn’t leave his area code. 50% of the people who call don’t leave their area code. I know this because caller ID is a godsend.

But check it out. If I had listened to the whole message, it’s at least 60 seconds in to get to the important stuff. So I get the name, I pull the phone number from call ID and hit erase. I have no idea when I call what the guest is looking for.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Remember Nancy from yesterday.

There were three messages from her today when I got to work. Generic messages. Please call Nancy Smith at 555.555.5555.

I add the message to my list.

Of course when I called her back she didn’t answer and I left my standard no detail voice mail.

This is Jeff calling from the restaurant; you can reach us back at 555.555.5555.

She continued to call back throughout the afternoon, but I had a million and two calls to return and didn’t answer.

When I was finally through all the messages, I check the machine, record all the new messages and start over.

Nancy’s message this afternoon was: Hi this is Nancy, I’m trying to make a reservation for tonight can someone call me back?

I knew what she was up to, but maybe I was wrong.

I return the messages as they are written down.

I get to Nancy. I dial, she answers, and I say, hi this is Jeff, I’m calling from the restaurant. You needed to make a reservation for tonight, and she said, OH. NO. NOT TONIGHT. I JUST SAID THAT SO YOU’D CALL ME BACK TODAY.

And wouldn’t you know, before I could say a word the call dropped. And it wasn’t even my fault.

And I didn’t answer a single call from her the rest of the day.

And I’m not sure I’ll answer the calls she makes tomorrow.

And while we are on the subject of phone calls.

I had about six messages from John looking for a reservation for tonight.

He was my first call today.

I dial, he answers and I say, Hi this is Jeff calling from the restaurant, and he says, well that took long enough. I say, you wanted a reservation for tonight. He is angry and says something to the effect that if I can’t return calls in a more timely fashion then blah, blah, blah. I breathe and think about my server from Wednesday and say, sir I had 87 phone calls to return and I’m getting to them as fast as I can.

He replies and says, that sounds like your problem not mine.

He says, we’ve found some place else to eat.

I say that I’m glad that he’s found a place to eat that’s not at my restaurant.

I’m not sure he caught the implication. And I remember that I didn’t deny it when I said to my server, yes, sometime I am rude and arrogant.

He grunts and I hang up.

The first fucking call of the day.

My 2nd call was to Adam just to get a verbal hug.

Then I turned back to my list and made call number 3.