I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

January 29, 2023.  

A thought from today.

Dear friends.

Dear employees.

Dear friends of friends.  

Dear people who come to my restaurant.

IT.  

IS.

NEVER.

OKAY.

TO.

TELL.

SOMEONE.

THEY.

NEED.

TO.

LOSE.

WEIGHT.  

I know you mean it with kindness. I know you think you are doing me a favor.  

But.  

It’s not like I don’t to look in the mirror when I brush my teeth and comb my hair in the morning.

It’s not like I didn’t buy pants at the big and tall store before I left for Argentina.

It’s not like I don’t step on the scale occasionally.

It’s not like I haven’t battled my weight since puberty.

It’s not like any of this is a fucking surprise. 

If you want to be nice, just say it’s great to see you. You look nice in your new pants. I like that shirt. Did you get a haircut.

Anything about my weight is off limits.

AND.

It is NEVER.

NEVER.

NEVER.  

NEVER.

Okay to ask a person if they have ALWAYS been fat.  

This hasn’t happened in a while, but it still amazes me how often it happens.

Those exact words.  

Have you always been fat or did you grow up thinner.

I don’t know dude. Have you always been rude or did you learn that skill as an adult.

Seriously, so many times.

One time by a guest who was staying in my apartment in NYC. Sitting on my sofa. While I tried, valiantly to focus on drafting a light plot.  

One time by a female friend of friends, who was chunky herself.  

Fun fact.

I have not always been fat.  

In fact, there was a time in my life that I was known as Hot Jeff.

No lie.  

But you want me to tell you a little secret.  

I’m so much happier where I am today than I was during that period.

In fact, my boyfriend at the time dumped me because I’d gained 25 pounds my first quarter of grad school.

No lie.  

Now I eat the food.

I eat the short ribs. And the mashed potatoes. And the homemade yeast rolls.  

And I don’t stress over it.

And sometimes I eat the salad. And the steamed vegetables. And the fresh fish.

Adam makes all of these things for me.

He makes them with love and if you’ve ever had the pleasure of eating his food, then you know he is a fucking awesome cook.  

But I don’t worry about it.  

I own it. I’m a middle aged, (approaching senior citizen) overweight gay man with a belly and grey hair.  

And I’m happy.

I no longer get up at 5:00 a.m. to go the gym.  

I no longer say no to dessert.

I no longer say no to the bourbon. Or the beer. Or the wine.

I bought a swim suit for Buenos Aires because for years I wouldn’t swim because I was fat.  

Fuck that. I swam almost every day.  

I also post photos of myself on line. For years I thought if I didn’t post the photo then I really wasn’t fat.

I deprived myself for long.

So.

No. I wasn’t always fat.  

Yes, I could probably afford to lose 100 pounds.  

Yes, I wish I could wear a size 32 pants again.

Yes, I wish I could wear a medium shirt again.  

But I would never want to go back to being that person.

I’m authentic now. So much more so than I ever was 25 years ago. 

What you see is really, really what you get. I don’t put on airs much any more.  

I’m sincere.

And honest.

I live my life proudly.

I did’t realize I was miserable, until I discovered real happiness.

So.

Thank you for your concern.

But I’m good.  

Trust me on this. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Tonight around 5:30 a server comes up to let me know that table 33 is upset that we don’t list our non-alcoholic drinks on the menu.  

She explained that we have Coke products, coffee,  make an array of mocktails, and we have 1 non-alcoholic beer.  

This does not make them happy.  

They launch in to a speech about how it’s unfair that we don’t offer non-alcoholic wine.  

So many other restaurants in town offer it and we should as well.

OH.  NO.

This couple has been in three times before.  And every time they are there, they aggressively tell me how unfair it is that we don’t offer non-alcoholic wine.  

I suppose it would be nice if we did.  

Like it would be nice if we served gluten-free bread.   And impossible burgers.  And chicken parm.  And frozen strawberry daiquiris.  And American coffee.  And bearnaise sauce.  And baked potatoes.  And blackened salmon.  And deluxe cheeseburgers.  And chicken fingers.  And pasta with butter.  And our flourless chocolate cake warmed.  And ½ glasses of wine.  And Mich Ultra.  And clam chowder.  And a salad entrée.  And protein on a house salad.  And a grilled cheese.  And pulled pork.  And a Argentine dip.  And rotisserie chicken.  And only charged 29.99 for a ribeye.  And buttered filet.  And had A-1 on our tables.  And had a create your own salad, based on an ingredients list. 

I could type for the next 24 hours about the items people think should be on our menu.  

I just did a quick look and there are currently around 35 commercial real estate sites available that were formerly restaurants of some sort just in Portland.  

Do you know what that means? 

You could open up a restaurant that serves non-alcoholic wine.  And gluten free bread.  And impossible burgers.  And frozen strawberry daiquiris.  And American coffee.  And bearnaise sauce.  And baked potatoes.  And blackened salmon.  And deluxe cheeseburgers.  And chicken fingers.  And pasta with butter.  And warm flourless chocolate cake.    And ½ glasses of wine.  And Mich Ultra.  And clam chowder.  And a salad entrée.  And protein on a house salad.  And a grilled cheese.  And pulled pork.  And a beef dip sandwich.  And a rotisserie chicken.  And you can set the prices to be whatever you want them to be.  And have buttered filet.  And an assortment of condiments.  And a salad bar.  And even fucking Sunday brunch. 

You seriously could do whatever the fuck you wanted.  

But don’t go to a place of business and tell them what they should and shouldn’t have.  Even if you think you are being helpful.  

I get that you don’t drink.

But I’ve been in the restaurant business in Maine for 10 years and in that time only 2 people have asked for non-alcoholic wine.  The two of you.

And.

We don’t need a wider selection of non-alcoholic beer either.  

Why you ask?

Because we actually only serve the beer to appease like 20 people.

In the summer when we serve close to 400 people, we’ll often do about 300 dollars in beer sales.  Wine and cocktails knock it out of the water. 

We are not a beer restaurant.  We sell almost as much soda and coffee as we do beer.

So please don’t trap me at the host stand and spend 30 minutes forcing your opinion on me.  And it really was 30 minutes.  I was supposed to me in my car at 6:30 to join Adam at his work holiday party.  I got in my car at 6:55.  

Because.  

You were unrelenting. 

PS.  You could bring your own.  We offer a corkage fee.  We’ll be happing to open the bottle and pour it for you.  Especially if it’s non-alcoholic.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I have been on the floor as a manager for the past 3 weeks.  It’s been great.  I’ve actually been able to see what happens in the restaurant as opposed to being stuck at the front door hosting.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’d love to just be a host.  It’s my favorite part of my job.  But alas there is so much more to what I do.   

On Saturday night I made my way to the door around 9:00.  All our reservations were in.  We’d seated our last guests at 8:30. I was checking in with my new manager, since I’d sent the host home.  Its winter, gotta save money.  

I get to the host stand just as a foursome starts out of the dining.  

As they enter, one of the men says, I have the worst swamp ass ever.  

His female friend replies, that she didn’t need to hear that.

I say, well I guess I walked up at just the right time.

All four of them laughed.

I then said, I have Gold Bond powder in the office if you’d like some.

The man with the swamp ass almost fell on the floor laughing.  His friends laughed as well.

He finally said, he thought he could wait till he got home.

We are a full-service restaurant.