I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Oh, where to start again.  I have 13 things on my list and the one I’m going to write about isn’t even on it. 

I wrote on Wednesday, about how I might not be as understanding with guests as I should be.  It’s not on purpose, but sometimes I just can’t.

So, it’s never a surprise when I bet a bad review or a bad survey.  I’m prepared for it.  I know its coming. 

But imagine my surprise when I logged into Resy tonight to check survey results and I see this:

Please provide feedback on your experience.

The food was good and our waiter excellent. The front of house manager is rude, intolerant of requests, unaccommodating and frankly, just plain ignorant. He refused a very reasonable request to seat our together despite there being ample space. His demeanour , attitude and deliberate unhelpfulness need to be addressed.  (They typos are his not mine). 

And:

Is there anything we can change to make you dine with us more frequently?

Yes, your front of house manager !

WOW!!!

It took me a good minute to figure out who it was.  And then I pieced together the issue.

We had three tables check in at the same time on Wednesday night for their 7:00 reservations. 

Two of them had the same last name and I thought they might be together.

But when I brought this up to the six of them waiting inside, they clearly had no idea who the other group was.

Meanwhile, the 4 top and the other 6 top are waiting outside.  I see them chatting but it truly NEVER occurred to me that they were together.  I thought they were two groups waiting to be seated that were talking to each other. 

I get the 6 people waiting inside seated. 

Then I seat the other 6 top in our gallery. 

About 90 seconds later the woman who checked in with that party comes to me and says, that the table is big enough that the waiting party can sit with them.  I explain that I had a table for them and would be getting them seated now.  She says, you have it all mapped out then and I assure her that I did.

It never fucking occurred to me they were together, until the server comes to me at the end of the meal and said that the woman said, I don’t understand why we couldn’t sit together because the table is clearly big enough. 

I was not rude.  I was not short.  I was not anything other than efficient.

I had no idea they knew each other until the server said something.  The other party had the same last name, that’s who I thought they were paired with.  But no it was the Irish table, with the international number. 

How the fuck could I know this?

Yes, the table is big enough for you to sit together.

Fun fact, the decision on who goes where involves far more than whether you’ll fit. 

Also, you booked after I changed the message on our reservation system that said, do NOT make two reservations and expect to sit together.  We’ll honor the reservation but we will not move you to a common table. 

Also, if you’d told me you wanted 10 adults to sit together, I’d have had you email me and there would be an email chain following your requests for a table of 10.  This does not exist. 

And,

Also, let’s break this down:

The front of house manager is rude, (you didn’t speak with me, the woman from the other party spoke to me) intolerant of requests, (I said no, I would have said no if I’d known as well, but saying no doesn’t make me intolerant of requests), unaccommodating (unless I am mistaken, you were seated based on the reservation you made and seated on time I might add) and frankly, just plain ignorant. (This is the one that pisses me off.  How?  Why?  What do you know about me that makes me ignorant?  You don’t know me).   He refused a very reasonable request to seat our together despite there being ample space. (Was it reasonable?  Really?  You are mad as was everyone else this summer that you tried to skirt the system and didn’t get what you wanted), His demeanour , attitude and deliberate unhelpfulness need to be addressed.  (I can’t even with this shit.  I can’t.  I now know why they all seemed angry when they left and wouldn’t respond to my questions on how they enjoyed their meal).

I am angrier about this than I have been all summer.  The people who called me a fucking bad manager were bad but this is worse.

I am very tempted to reach out to the woman I spoke to about being moved together to explain why things went the way they did.  I probably won’t but I’d like to. 

And in what world does a person think someone needs to be fired, just because they were told no.

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?

I’d like to Speak to the manager!!!

Original post from a year ago!

Eating out rules: When making a reservation, children are people too. Don’t make a reservation for two adults then show up with six kids and be upset when I say we can’t accommodate you. You have an 8 top. The small four top in the middle of the restaurant is too small. PS. Babies count too. Unless you can put them under the table.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Mondays are the fucking worst.

The.  Absolute.  Fucking.  Worst.

All the bad things happen on Monday. 

The rain happens on Monday.  The people who tell me to fuck off, do so on Monday.  All the people yell on Monday. 

Today was that day.

Let’s start with the weather.

Guess, who got a little bold today with the weather?

This guy.  Who didn’t close the fucking patio like his boyfriend did, because I was certain I could seat the first turn and have everyone gone by 7:00 when the rain started. 

BUT.  NO.

The fucking rain started at 6:00.  However, my host was paying attention as I told her to, and gave me 15 minutes lead way and this time we had a plan and it worked.  Everyone was led into their assigned tables.  They had their food soon after.  For the most part it was great.

A couple of questions? 

Why do people who are sitting in the rain, think they should have their food carried in for them.  Pick up the fucking plate.  Don’t make the staff carry it for you.

And if you know your kids have COVID, why would you be traveling in Maine and why would you have a reservation at a restaurant and why for the love of all things holy would you move inside when the weather turned bad?

It’s now 6:30.  My restaurant is full.  The few open tables I have are now occupied by rain tables.  It’s going to be tight the rest of the evening. 

In walks Mr. Ross.  He’s standing at my host stand and I’m trying to get things updated so I can get everyone seated.

Background on Mr. Ross.– He called 17 times yesterday.  Because he forgot to make a reservation for his 35^th wedding anniversary.  I called him back today around 2:45.  And I made a reservation for him.  2 people in our Gallery.  Which IS NOT the main dining room, but those tables are now taken up with people who made reservations 2 months ago or the people I moved in from the patio who made their reservations 2 months ago. 

Mr. Ross walks up to the podium and makes a stupid joke about the weather that I did not laugh at.  I don’t remember it but I remember thinking I don’t have time for this.

I’m going to stop here and say that I am tired.  I was tired all day.  It’s the end of my work week.  I was up to late last night.  I was up to early today.  I dealt with difficult people all afternoon. It just rained an hour early and I am cranky.  I’m very aware of this.  I very rarely am in a bad mood and not aware of it.  Years of therapy helps with this.  I was in such a mood this afternoon that at 3:00, I put down the phone, walked out to the patio and sat in the sunshine for thirty minutes to just have a little break from the chaos. 

Mr. Ross is seated.  In our Gallery. 

Fun fact about our Gallery.  It’s a beautiful space.  But we are having difficulty with the air conditioning keep up out there this summer because we are having unprecedented heat.  Like seriously.  Never before.  In the mid 90’s with 99.99% humidity.  It could only be more humid if it were raining. 

Also when the rain is incredibly hard, the gutter leaks along the two top tables.  This does not happen often and we know this so we move the tables and all is good. 

We had 2 top tables seated out there all night who had a wonderful time. 

Mr. Ross is seated. 

And 10 minutes later the server appears to tell me that Mr. Ross is unhappy.  He wants to be moved.

May I remind you that Mr. Ross booked his table at 2:45.  2.15 hours before our shift started.  Even on a normal day I’d have had no place to move him.

I tell the server that I don’t have another table for him.

I go back to trying to get things under control at the door.

About 4 minutes later Mr. Ross is standing in front of me, while I have a lobby full of people.  Seriously, there were easily 15 people waiting at the door at this time.

He demands that I move him to another table. 

I explain there is no other table.  He points out that there is an empty table in the dining room.  I don’t say this, but the table is for a friend of mine, who just got engaged and is coming in to celebrate.  I won’t give him that table. 

I repeat that I don’t have another table for him. 

He gets upset and says that this is poor customer service.

I stare at him, wondering exactly how I am supposed to fix the problem.

I also know that if I weren’t in a bad mood already, I might have been gentler, but seriously, you made you reservation at the last minute.  You’ve never been here before.  You’ll probably never be back and you are not even remotely being nice.

I tell him again there is nothing I can do for him.

He announces at this point that he is leaving and I quote, “WILL NEVER BE BACK!”

I say, we appreciate you coming in, thank you. 

Later I realize this was not the best response but I’m still trying to get through the rain reservations. 

He says, THANK YOU?  WE DIDN’T EVEN EAT.  YOU BETTER BELIEVE THAT I WILL TELL ALL OF MY FRIENDS NEVER TO COME HERE AND I WILL POST ON EVERY SOCIAL MEDIA SITE.”

I say to him the same thing I’ve said for years, YOU DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO, BUT I WON”T BE HELD HOSTAGE BY YOUR THREATS.

He responds, WE WILL NEVER BE BACK!!!

An email to the restaurant info@ address:  We showed up, were seated at an exceptionally uncomfortable table (stuffy, noisy) and treated rudely by an arrogant manager when we asked to change tables.  We left and will not return. 

Trip advisor:  Uncomfortable and rude

We were seated at a very uncomfortable table, stuffy and noisy, and treated rudely by the front desk person when we asked to change tables. Any restaurant, particularly one that purports to belong to the “fine dining” category, should know better and treat its customers with respect. We will never return.

Yelp:  Uncomfortable table, stuffy and noisy.  We asked to change tables and were treated rudely by the front desk person in a display of arrogance.  No reason to ever return.

Google:  Uncomfortable, stuffy and noisy table. Rude treatment when we asked to change tables. Will never go there again and neither should you.

Facebook:  Uncomfortable table, stuffy and noisy. Rude treatment when we asked to change tables.

I love a man who keeps his promise.  I also love a man who has not heard of copy and paste.

It’s the second time I’ve been called rude and arrogant this week.  Remember the couple who brought their own wine in plastic cups this week. 

Trip Advisor:  Worst experience ever

I’ve never been treated so badly. We were really looking forward to trying this restaurant on our last night in town. The moment we walked in the front desk person who I believe is the owner was rude and dismissive to us. The attitude appears to permeate through the entire staff. Inattentive and rude is the best thing I can say about any of them. Will not return.

Yelp:  I would give this zero if I could. I’ve never been treated more rudely. Terrible food. Terrible service. The owner is an a$$ and cannot be believed to be a real business person. Abhorrent.

I have no idea how she knows the food and service are bad as she never made it into the restaurant.

The funniest part of the night, was as I said the lobby was full when this all went down. 

The ladies restroom door is in the lobby.  About 45 seconds after this all went down, a lady pops out of the restroom and says, SORRY ABOUT THE ASSHOLE, BUT WE WILL ALWAYS BE BACK.  YOU ALWAYS TREAT US SO WELL, AND YOU HANDLED THE RAIN AND WEATHER PERFECTLY.  I’M ALSO GOING TO SHARE THIS ON SOCIAL MEDIA.

The post on yelp above Mr. Ross’s.

Just when I thought I’d had the best meal at The Lost Fire, they do an even better job. Not only was the food incredible (grilled provolone with pesto, hot house tomatoes, burger, and pineapple carpaccio with ginger gelato), Dave at the bar was incredible as alway. The staff accommodated us due to the rain, and we dined at the beautiful bar. It was my husband’s birthday, and he had the best steak of his life. The staff is so friendly, and the food is amazing, you really can’t go wrong.

I just can’t any more.

I’ll finish by saying I had a 5 top show up tonight with 6 people.  I had nowhere to put them and told them so.

But they were so kind and apologetic that I asked them to step outside and give me a second.

And I found them a place to sit.

Later their server comes to let me know that they own a restaurant in the town next to ours.  And that the owner of the restaurant, saw the look on my face when I was told they had six and said oh no.  He has the August people’s face.

And they were not wrong. 

PS.  Chef got all the alerts that happen when something is posted on Social Media.  He didn’t even ask.  While we were chatting at the end of the night another one popped up and he said, seriously, this guy is crazy. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

This really happened.

A memory from Social Media.

“Nothing like being in the middle of changing clothes when an naked old man decides it’s the right time to tell you how awful the restaurant you manage is.”

He looked like Mr Burns from The Simpsons.

I finally looked at him and said this is neither the time nor the place.

He looked shocked that I’d speak to him that way.

But he was crying completely fucking naked. No towel. Just an angry demeanor.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Every night I carry around a piece of paper in my pocket, with my pen.  And I take notes.  Chef made fun of me when I first started, but it’s how I remember to do things, or correct things, or order things. 

However, as the restaurant has become more acclimated to my management, I write very little about the staff or to do these days.  In fact most everything I write down is about things to share with you. 

Most days I write two things about service and 17 for the post.  At the end of the night I separate them and I leave my to-do list on my computer and I put my post list in my pocket. 

The piece of paper, in the photo is my list….just from tonight. 

Every night there are way too many things to ever write about.   

And I save the papers, and compile them into a master list.  I have a word document that is about 15 pages long just from last summer and fall. 

The other photo is of the papers saved still waiting to be put into the master list.

I usually write about the things that annoyed me most, or that I feel I need to share. 

I NEVER sit down at the computer and go; I have no idea what to say tonight. 

I do know that creating this outlet has been a godsend. 

I haven’t seen my boyfriend since last Tuesday night when we went to bed.  He is gone when I wake up and he’s asleep when I come home. 

I can hear him snoring lightly as I type this. 

It’s not a situation we love.  In fact it’s probably the biggest stress in our life right now.  We aren’t fighting about money, we don’t fight about household chores, and we don’t fight about the cats, although I will take this opportunity to remind him that Doralee has a vet appointment at 10:00 on Wednesday. 

We don’t fight at all to be honest. 

We just miss each other.

The part that sucks is that we both LOVE where we work.  I’m so proud of the work he does at his restaurant and I love telling people at my restaurant, that he is the GM of the one of the best restaurants in the area.  I send people there all the time.  

I love my job.  In fact on Tuesday Adam said to me at one point during dinner that he was so grateful that I was finally happy with my work situation.  It’s been four years since I could say that. 

Unfortunately, it’s our reality and we get through it best we can.  One of the things he insisted we do this summer is keep busy on our days off.  This Tuesday is the first night we’ll have been home on our day off in two months.  We see plays, we go to dinner with friends, we go to Boston, we get feet facials–we do stuff.  And it’s been magical and so rewarding to look forward to these adventures as we call them.

I am very much looking forward to being home this weekend.  Tuesday.

We are going to have cocktails.

We are going to watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. 

I’m going to watch Keith Carson, deliver the weather.

We are finally going to watch the last episode of Ozark.

Adam will fall asleep on the couch, and I will try and catch up on the Rupaul’s Drag Race all-stars.  I know who won!

That was a long way of saying that when I do see my boyfriend, I try not to vent about work.  I try not to complain about the staff, I try not to complain about the guests, the long hours, the 9 more weeks I have to go until I get two days off.

I do that here.  He reads my posts every morning.  He rarely says anything about them except occasionally to say are you sure you should have written that. 

I know he reads them because he always hits the like button. 

He likes when they are short.  He’ll hate this post because it’s too long.  He says I think I’m writing for  Vanity Fair.  Some day!!!

The point is, thanking you for listening.  Thank you for responding.  Thank you to the silent readers who are out there and never hit like and never comment. 

You are helping me get through the summer and for that I am forever grateful.

Be well. 

PS. You have my list from tonight. Anyone want to guess what I was reminding myself to write about?

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

A first tonight.

My host comes to me and says she found thin on the couch while straightening the pillows.

Wow.

Just say no.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Two things I’ve discovered in the past week.

First I have no more fucks to give.

What does that mean?

We have amazing guests.  We have people who eat at our restaurant once a week, twice a week, three times a week.

They are wonderful, understanding and kind.

They are the people who pay our bills. 

Then we have people I call one and done. 

They are from North Dakota.  They come here on vacation.  They eat here once, because the owner of their air bnb told them to. 

But here’s the deal. 

They are the people who wouldn’t be pleased if we were a 5-star Michelin restaurant.  They can’t be pleased.  They want dinner for free.

They are the people who make our lives difficult. 

And I have no fucks to give these people.

So you don’t get to yell at me when you forget your credit card.  You don’t get to yell at me when I say you can’t bring your wine into the restaurant.  You don’t get to beat me up.  

PERIOD!!!

We are going to focus on pleasing the 99% of people who are awesome and you can go back to South Dakota and tell people how horrible we were and it doesn’t matter because none of them are coming to Maine anyway.

Meanwhile, I continue to have a million calls every day. 

I no longer listen to the messages. 

I listen long enough to get the name and number.

After that I don’t care. 

I don’t care that you eat here once a year.  I don’t care that you live on Marshall Point Road.  I don’t care that your grandmother is turning 86. I don’t care that you are friends with the barista at the coffee shop, where you mechanic gets his muffin. 

Name. 

Number.

I have to ask you about all the other information when I call anyway. 

Two.  New.  Things. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

On my way home at night I often chat with friends. 

Last night was my AGM from my first GM job.  Tonight was my AGM from two jobs ago.  Both conversations were similar.  We were commiserating on the challenges of being in the hospitality business right now.  Challenges with staffing, co-workers and grumpy guests. 

Last night’s conversation turned to a conversation she had had with her current boss and she says to me, I was able to say the things I needed to  say to him because when I was young and green you taught me to fend for myself.  She then goes on to embarrass with compliments she was giving me on our time together. 

The truth is, she was my employee, then my AGM, then my friend.  And she taught me far more than she will ever know, but it felt nice to have someone tell me that I helped them in their growth.

Tonight, on the way home I am chatting and I tell my old AGM that she needs a mentor, someone who can help her with the difficult times and she says, I did have that but you moved on. 

Once again, I was overcome with embarrassment as she complimented me on the things that I had taught her as a manager, AGM and friend.  As I said about the first night’s compliment she will never know all the things she taught me. 

The one lesson, I taught both of them, and I’ve taught many people is to know your role. 

I’ve told the following story so many times I should get paid for it. 

Years ago, I taught lighting design at a performing arts high school.  It was a dream job and I loved everything about it.  For those of my friends in theater education, the system was set up so that I not only got paid for teaching, but every single design I created was considered above and beyond and I received additional pay.  30 years ago, it was a great salary. 

I had amazing students and they have far surpassed anything I thought they might do.  They are working across the country in theaters from Broadway to Vegas. 

However, in my tenure there, I had a student say to me one day that he was annoyed that all I did was stand around telling other people what to do.  He was implying I was too lazy to pull out a wrench and hang a light myself. 

I don’t remember my response the first time this was said to me, but it became a conversation I had with this student many times. 

He wasn’t wrong.  I did just stand around telling people what to do.  But it was not because I was lazy, but how do you explain that to a 15 year old.

So after the 12,656 time I told him that I was going to let him run the crew next time we had a load in. 

Fast forward and we are loading in a show at a union theater.  The great thing about the school that I worked at was they had an agreement with the local IATSE union, that for every union worker we hired, we had a student attached to them.  This way, the union was protected, but our students got to learn with the best of the best. 

So I turned the show over to my student. 

We arrive at 8:00, as all load-ins start at 8:00.  I give the plans to the student and tell him to go for it.  I have my wrench attached to my belt and I’m ready to hang lights for the morning. 

And off we go. 

All is well for about 30 minutes.  I’m hanging my electric but I look around and there members of the electric team waiting for direction.  Both students and union members.

I go back to work.  Around 9:00, there are still people waiting for direction but hey I’m just a grunt and I go back to work, all the while with one eye of the crew and the student who was in charge.  

Around 9:30, I approach the student and ask if everything is okay.  I can tell he’s struggling but is too proud to say so.  I explain that I am here to just hang lights but there are three guys standing over there who are making a lot of money an hour and for the last 90 minutes they haven’t done anything.

He finally admits that he doesn’t know what to do next and that clearly it’s a lot harder to keep things moving than he thought and that he finally understood that I was not just standing around. 

I gave him my wrench and we traded places. 

I took over just telling people what to do. 

My first AGM I found on a ladder loading wine into storage and I asked her what she was doing.  She said she was stocking wine.  And I said, if you are doing that, why are we paying the three people over there who are watching you stock wine?

My last AGM and I had a phone call a week ago and she was saying she was too busy running food and bussing tables to get some tasks done and I shared my lighting story with her.

The moral of the story is that a GM is a big picture person.  You have to see everything, and if you are focusing on the little picture, then the picture gets fuzzy. 

I am not too good to bus a table.  I am not too good to run drinks.  I’m not too good to run food.  But 99% of the time, I have three people standing around waiting for direction who can do the task at hand allowing me to move on to find the next task at hand. 

It makes me proud that both of these AGM friends are doing so well in their careers, as are my lighting friends. 

Now, hang three source fours on that batten and bus table 21 and can you run get ice for the bar. 

And thank you for filling my water cup. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

We, and by we, I mean our staff, killed it tonight.  We broke all the records by a lot.   We fed more people than we ever thought possible, and we hit a revenue record that was not forecast for us, for the next three years. 

The best part of these facts though is that the evening was one of the smoothest ever. 

Food was spot on, only a couple of re-cooks.  Servers weren’t running around like crazy.  And the food running team and expo were better than I’ve ever seen them.  They thought we were slow tonight. 

Kudos, kudos, kudos to the whole staff.

I also had several people seek me out at the end of their meals to let me know how wonderful their experience was.  Most of them I knew, but one particular man sought me out on the patio after finishing his dinner inside.  I recognized him as having eaten here before, but I don’t know his name and we’ve only spoken briefly before. 

He came up to me, and complimented us on the beauty of our patio.  He continued saying that he and his family have been coming to the restaurant since it opened almost 4 years ago and he wanted me to know that the changes that I had brought to the restaurant, were much noticed and a great improvement.  Not that anything was bad before but that things had definitely improved since I became GM.  It felt nice to be recognized. 

I should add that I was on the patio because my host has said  to me, have you looked at the weather?  

FUCK YOU!  NO!  IT’S NOT GOING TO RAIN!

But of course I pull out my phone and what do I see a severe thunderstorm warning alert.  I look at the radar.  It’s now about 6:50 and according to the radar we have about 30 minutes to formulate a plan. 

Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.

We still have the entire second turn to seat and the place is packed. 

However, one should not panic in these moments and so I planted myself on the patio and formulated a plan.

First, it’s at the end of the first turn and the second turn doesn’t start till 7:00.  So I stop seating.  I tell everyone who approaches that we won’t be seating anyone else until we have the all clear that it’s not going to rain.  However, if it does rain it’s going to be quick and furious, meaning we’ll dry everything and seat people as soon as we can.  You might have to wait but we’ll make sure you have an awesome time in the end.  I also have the patio host clear all the clean tables so it won’t be a rush to do so, if it rains. 

Meanwhile, I have about 8 tables in the middle of their meals. 

All but two are eating their entrees.  I tell their servers to let them know that they should keep things moving as we are expecting storms.  The two tables that are waiting on food, I approach and point out the tables they are to move to should it rain.  The tables on dessert, I suggest that they get their desserts to go and enjoy them in their cars or at home. 

The night continues. 

It grows dark. 

According to the radar the line is moving toward us.  And it keeps coming.  And it keeps coming.  And as it moves closer, it moves north.  Around 7:45 it becomes apparent that there is not going to be any rain. 

Meanwhile, I have about 25 people waiting to be seated, all late for their reservations.  They have gotten drinks from the patio bartenders and none of them are upset at all. 

We get the tables reset and I seat people in the order they arrived. 

And by 7:45 everyone is seated and we are moving on with our night. 

It screwed the momentum and flat seating everyone bogged them down but they all got through it. 

And at 10:00 tonight I sat down at the chef’s table and opened my laptop and looked at revenue and all was good in the world.