I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I just crawled into bed.

It’s 2:38.

I worked a 14+ hour days.

It was filled with anger, yelling, ultimatums, veiled threats, accusations, and a whole list of other things.

This describes at least 6 people today I encountered.

However, one encounter stood out.

When I first started, I became friendly with a family that came in every six weeks or so.

They often requested the chef’s table so after a while I just made it happen.

So imagine my surprise when I had the following encounter.

The phone rings at the new restaurant.

I recognize the name as the son of this family.

I answer.

A voice immediately says, is this Jeff.

I reply yes.

And the voice introduces itself as the father.

He then becomes angry.

Are you no longer at the old restaurant?

Well it depends on the day of the week.

Well are you or aren’t you? I called tonight and they told me you were MIA. I don’t appreciate having to speak to some one else about my reservation.

I say I’m sorry.

He continues on very angry.

I truly don’t appreciate not being able to speak to you when I call. This won’t work if you are going to not be there.

I say I’m sorry again.

He then tells me that he has called to make a reservation and was told he’d have to speak to me to get the chef’s table. And how is that supposed to happen if I’m not even there to answer the phone.

I ask what he’s looking for.

Without missing a beat he demands to be seated at the chef’s table.

I ask how many are in his party and he says 7.

I explain that we can’t seat 7 at the chef’s table and we don’t pull them together.

He demands to know how many it can seat.

I say 6.

He demands that I make the reservation for 6 and change it from 4:30 to 5:00.

He continues at any chance to point out that I’m no longer there.

I tell him that I’ll accommodate him, and he says great.

Then he demands that I give him the name and number of a contact at the restaurant who can accommodate his requests.

I realize this is beyond acceptable.

Way beyond.

He has mistaken my kindness for weakness and privilege.

I’m not weak.

He does not have privilege. If he did he’d have my cell number to access me directly.

I think this might be his last time at the chefs table. That is if it’s not booked by the time he gets there.