Month: February 2024

FEEL THE EARLY MORNING MADNESS FEEL THE MAGIC IN THE MAKING. WHY EVERYTHING’S AS IF WE NEVER SAID GOODBYE.

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Now that you ALL know that I’m gay.

And the Bennigan’s team all know that I’m gay.

There are so, so, so many stories to share of my two years in Atlanta.

I went home for the holidays, infatuated with Duane.

I quickly discovered his interest was one of a conquest and little else.

I’d love to say that I felt used and taken advantage of, and maybe 22-year-old Jeff thought that.

58-year-old Jeff knows very differently.

After that, I jumped into the deep end of the pool and started learning what life was like on the other side of the closet door.

Turns out it’s a lot more fun.

I could flirt with the boys I found attractive.

I could say the things I’d been thinking for 22 years.

I learned that the shame I felt was only in my head and had no basis in reality.

As I mentioned before, there were really only two straight front of house male employees. A bartender named Craig and another bartender whose name escapes me.

If I remember correctly, we all believed that Craig was dealing coke out of the bathroom, as someone would come in from the outside, go to the restroom, he’d follow them in and come back 90 seconds later. He wasn’t in the men’s room long enough for other activities, and trust me with the boys I worked with they’d have known.

The other members of the cast there were equally fun.

Paul, whose parents had kicked him out of his house in North Carolina, for being gay. He’d go on to be one of my mother’s favorite people I knew in Atlanta, and she’d asked about him for more than a decade after I moved away and lost touch with him.

Kelly, who was super flamboyant, wore make up, had a cigarette in his hand any time he could and was caddy, caddy, caddy. PS. He and Duane were on again off again, the whole time I knew them.

There was Tracy the host who hated me. Hated me. Hated me.

The hosts at Bennigan’s were responsible for checking side work. She once told me I needed to redo my salt and pepper shakers. I assured her that I had done them. She took the top off the salt, dumped half of it into the carpet and said, now you need to do the salt and peppers, and Bissell your section.

There was Billy, who was super cute, super flirtatious who’d flirt and flirt with me, but never went beyond that.

There was David, who is 12 posts of his own, who taught me about musical theater and gave me a cassette of the original cast recording of Evita, which I listened to and listened to in my un-airconditioned Nissan Sentra.

There was Shelly who I used to joke was the worst server I’d ever met…until I started hiring servers. Shelly was funny, and gorgeous, and had a boyfriend Mike who was going into the Navy. The boys at work, used to tell her that boys in the Navy do everything but kiss. I lived with Shelly the last two months I was in Atlanta, when I was trying to figure out what I was going to do with my life.

Stacy still worked with me. But it would be a good 9 months before we really started being friends. We really became friends when she went off to a fine dining restaurant, and stepped up in the business.

Let’s not forget about Jason, who to this day still has some of the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, although as I type this, they might have been contacts.

There was Clay Boye, who was an amazing artist and was the person who told me to only buy art that spoke to me and to never hang art on the wall because it matched the sofa. If I wanted art to match the sofa, hang the sofa on the wall and sit on the floor. The last time I saw him, was in NYC while I was dining with a friend, a decade after I left Atlanta. PS. He looked a lot like John Malkovich.

There was Maeve, who I learned thru social media, lives in the boston area. She moved back after her stint in Atlanta. She came to visit last summer, and brought Duane with her. It was so fun to see them both. I have photos of her somewhere in an album.

Let’s not forget Sonya, who fell in love with Keith and they got married in Louisville. He was the evil manager, who fired me for destroying company property. That’s a whole story in and of itself. I was not invited to the wedding.

Let’s also not forget Bob, who I’m friends with today on social media. Hmm, I’m about 99% sure he took me to see the Indigo Girls, about 12 minutes before Closer to Fine hit big. It was a small club/bar and all I remember about it, is that they performed the best version I’ve ever heard of Summertime from Porgy and Bess.

Reggie was our kitchen manager. He was the boyfriend of Karen our General Manager. Although, if memory serves me, he might have had a wife at home. He was one of the most beautiful men ever, and was so, so, so, sweet and nice. We all loved him.

There are so many more.

Adam asked last week if I really remembered the details. 99% of what I share is exactly how I remember it. Although, we all know memory is fickle. (I just had to look up how to spell fickle). But, once I start down the path, I can still see, clear as day, the restaurant entrance. I can feel the heat on the pavement, as I walked the fifty yards from the back of the parking lot to the front door. I can smell the aroma of cinnamon bread. I can see the tile floor that was slippery as all get out when it got wet. The restrooms were off to the right. My favorite section was up three steps just before the restrooms. The bar was straight ahead up three stairs, with high tops on the main level. About 6 months into working there, they replaced the high tops to the left with a row of booths, that became everyone’s favorite. To the left was another section, and behind that was an aisle that went out to a patio, that we never used, until Shelly convinced the manager, to let her clean it up and we started opening it for service.

The one thing that was unique to this restaurant, was the service bar was in the kitchen. There was a window in the middle of the kitchen across from expo that opened, and on busy nights, all service drinks came from the kitchen, and NOT the bar itself.

This time in my life was so precious, and I had no idea in the moment.

The journey I was on would create the foundation of who I am today.

Glitter and be gay, that’s the part I play…

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Breaking news!!!

I am gay.

Funny story.

For my whole adult life, whenever I tell someone a story that involves me saying the words, I’m gay, the person I’m talking to will stop me and say, Wait! What? You are gay??? Seriously???

And it’s been true no matter the time in my life.

In Atlanta.

In grad school in Kentucky.

In grad school in San Diego.

In Cincinnati,

In NYC.

At my last 12 jobs.

And it happened today.

I said something about being gay, and an employee interrupted the story and said, Wait!!! What? You are gay? Seriously??? I had no idea.

And before anyone suggests she didn’t know; she has met Adam.

She has waited on him.

I’m pretty sure my having a boyfriend would have clued her into the fact that I am indeed a homosexual.

Keep it glad, keep it mad, keep it gay!

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I rarely write about guests these days.

Until tonight. 

 A server asked a single gentleman, who was waiting for the rest of his party, what she could get him to drink, and he replied, “I think I’ll get a f*ggy drink tonight, so make it a cosmo. 

She was taken aback to say the least.  

She asked me what she should do or say, I said, if he doesn’t say anything else inappropriate, just pretend that that’s not what he said.    

Since nothing else offensive came from him, I’m choosing to believe he said something else all together.

However, as a rule, most f*ggy men I know, prefer bourbon to cosmopolitans, just so you know.

I’M HAPPY, JUST BEING WITH YOU.  SO WHAT SHOULD IT MATTER TO ME, WHAT YOU DO IN BED WITH GUYS. I

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I started at Bennigan’s and quickly proved myself to be good at the job. The staff seemed to like me and I got along with most everyone.

As I got to know more people, I became aware that all but two of the male front house employees, were gay.

Two very butch, very masculine bartenders, who didn’t seem to mind that they were surrounded by gay men.

I mixed right in, but at this point in my life, I’d only ever told one person that I was gay. A woman I worked with at Wendy’s named Tammy. We sat on the curb at three in the morning, talking about life, and I confessed my deepest, darkest secret.

So here I am in the middle of a bunch of gay men, still pretending to be straight.

And for the most part everyone bought it.

Or so I thought.

Turns out that all the gay men thought I was gay.

All of the women thought I was straight.

Rumor had it there were bets floating around.

I played the straight game as best I could. Keeping my head low, and trying to not be obvious.

Fast forward to the first week of December. One of the servers is having her first annual Jewish/Christmas party.

What is that you ask?

It’s a party thrown by your co-worker, Stacy, who is Jewish, and her roommate who is not.

Fun fact, when I met Stacy she was the first Jewish person I’d ever met. Georgetown, KY was not known for its plethora of synagogues, and kosher delis.

I am invited to said party, as is most of the rest of the staff.

I get there and am hanging out with everyone, and flirting with Stacy more than I should.

To be honest, I’d flirted with her for a couple of weeks. It truly was not being malicious. I was just protecting my secret.

If you grew up in a small town in Kentucky, where you were called a f*g on the bus every day of the school year, you’d know why the secret was so dark and scary.

If you went to a conservative Baptist college you’d understand why the secret was so dark and scary.

Although, it turns out there was a LOT of gay people at my college, but most of us wouldn’t reveal this secret, till much, much later.

It was also the late 80’s, and people were starting to die, from what we had just discovered was an illness called AIDS. It was not a great time to be coming of age.

Back to the story.

As the night went on, I ended up making out with her. And if I remember correctly, may have even given her a hickey.

In her kitchen, next to the stove. I can still see the room in my head.

The night progressed, and I became a little tipsier, and a little less cautious.

And the next thing I knew, I was on my way to Duane’s apartment, where we made out in a hot tub, in the cold.

The next day I did the walk of shame showing up for my lunch shift, in the same clothes I’d worn to the party.

The cat was definitely out of the bag.

Everyone knew.

Bets were won and lost.

And Stacy didn’t speak to me for a very long 6 months.

If not longer.

Eventually she stopped hating me and we became the best of friends, and for the last year I spent in Atlanta, she was my bestie.

We are still in touch. I visited her in October on my road trip.

I’m sure she’ll tune in today for the next episode in this saga.

She may not know this, but her acceptance of me, paved the way for my acceptance of myself.

I’ll be forever grateful.

So that’s five miso soup, four seaweed salad, three soy burger dinner, two tofu dog platter, and one pasta with meatless balls

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

When last you tuned in, I was just leaving J.C. Penney after meeting the Hallmark card guy, when he came to stock greeting cards.

Fun fact, I stayed friends with both the card guy and his boyfriend for a while afterwards. They ended making hand crafted furniture with no modern fasteners in their one-bedroom apartment. I visited them several times and they lived in the living room and assembled furniture in the bedroom. They had a full workshop including a table saw, band saw, and a lathe. They’d work from 9 to 5 building furniture to abide by the building’s quiet time restrictions.

Meanwhile…

I was hired to work at Bennigan’s by a woman who I remember being called Kim. It might be Sally for all I remember. She interviewed me at a high top in front of the bar.

I started 10 days later.

She was gone by the time I had my first day. (This happened a lot to me as I moved from job to job. I’d be hired by someone, who was gone by the time I started if not shortly after).

The manager was replaced by a woman named Karen.

The management team was awesome. A guy named Dana who was very, very good looking and who played baseball in college. He was eventually replaced by a man named John, who although not as cute, was very, very sweet.

My whole experience at Bennigan’s was awesome until the dastardly Keith appeared one day….but we’ll get to him.

I started on a Monday at 1:00. We did all the requisite tours and forms. Then myself, along with my other co-hires and a man named Jimmy all sat down for classroom training.

Jimmy was very gay. Very funny. Laughed uproariously. Only worked days. And was awesome.

He died a few years after I left Atlanta from an aneurism. I remember being stunned by the news.

He was the official classroom trainer. And he spent the next five days teaching us all things serving.

I value those five days I spent in classroom training, more than any other training I’ve gotten in my life.

Those five days allowed me to be very good at making a living until my mid-40’s.

Every day, during those classroom hours we were taught to wait tables.

I wish that I’d saved my employee manual, because it would come in handy, even today.

They assumed we all had experience, but they trained us as if we didn’t.

We were taught:

How to hold a tray.

How to bus a table.

How to take an order.

The different kinds of liquors and what they were served with.

How to garnish a drink.

How to carry three plates.

How to carry four glasses.

How to empty an ashtray.

My favorite. What does 86’d mean?

It means to be out of something.

I remember thinking that it must be because it’s 1987 and to not have something would have been so last year. True story.

We had hand written tickets and there was a detailed abbreviation system.

You had to remember the difference between broccoli bites and broccoli soup, when writing the tickets

You had to know the difference between broccoli bites and burger bites.

One was brocc.

One was bites.

The bar was tricky as I knew nothing.

An arrow up for straight up.

An “X” for on the rocks.

What the hell was a martini?

I used those abbreviations taking orders until May 24, 2012, when I took my last order.

After 4 hours of classroom training, we were given an apron and assigned to a grown-up waiter.

I was trained by a man named David for at least two of my shifts. He was a great server, who was excellent at his job.

He was also sarcastic, with a biting sense of humor and he took a liking to me from the get go.

He taught me to combine my steps.

He taught me that you are only in the weeds if you think you are.

He taught me to never let them see you sweat.

He taught me to never show weakness.

And he taught me how to have a good time, by showing me how to walk through the dining room like a super model.

At the end of the that week of training, I graduated and became a full-fledged server.

I was good at it from the start. And I do say so myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been better at anything in my life.

It wasn’t long before I tasked with waiting on the corporate team.

I was a trainer.

I was on the employee council.

I was an office assistant.

And I was always in the same section, in the smoking section and it was far busier than the other side of the restaurant.

This job truly served me well.

I’ll also brag that it was the last time I ever finished training as a server. From that point on, I would train two or three days, pass the test, and be on the floor.

It was the beginning of November when I started.

I’d be straight for 6 more weeks.

If I’m patient the break will mend and one fine morning the hurt will end…

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

On October 18, 2023, I had my knee replaced.

Today, February 18, 2024 marks four months.

Somedays it feels like it was yesterday.

Somedays it feels like it was 10 years ago.

The update.

The pain is mostly gone. Sometimes, it will get a little creaky after I’m on my feet all day, but for the most part it doesn’t hurt.

There is still swelling after I’m up and about for a long time. Somedays are worse than others. I’ve been told it will take a while to completely go away. That being said, the swelling is far better than it used to be.

My hamstrings still bother my. They catch occasionally, and the pain is an 8 or 9, just for a split second, but enough that I’m super conscience when I do thinks that might trip it up, like standing or going up and down stairs. But even that is better than it was a couple of months ago.

On Thursday night, I got home and was running around the house, and when I finally sat down Adam said, it’s so great to see you able to move around the house without your knee bothering. For a second, I’d forgotten it was a thing.

And that’s true. For a few minutes, I’d forgotten that my knee had been so painful before.

It’s especially true at work.

When I started, I never went down stairs at the end of the night, because my knee was so swollen and stiff.

I don’t even think about it these days.

I’m getting there. A few more months to go, but so much better than this time last year.

It’s a losing race when you’re racing with the racing, racing, racing with the clock.

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

was a stock boy.

I had a two-minute tutorial on what that meant and I was off.

I’d arrive at work at 8:00 a.m.

I still find it funny that I’ve had so many jobs that start early in the a.m. when now as an old man, I’d lose my mind if I had to be at work at 8:00 a.m. everyday.

I’d get to work, and I start on the big carts they had that had been loaded overnight.

I’d distribute them to the right department. Then go back and help the sales team put them away the merchandise.

This repeated itsself throughout the day.

I continued this process until 4:00 when I was done for the day.

I was actually quite efficient at my job, and so I found myself, getting to know the sales team.

Beth in towels and linens was from Tennessee. She wanted to go into management. Was newly married and had just graduated from college and moved to Atlanta.

Mary in lamps had worked at this location since forever. She was a grandmother to everyone, and was the person, who let me know how much markup there was on the merchandise.

I never got to know the other stock team members.

After a few weeks, I was really, really, really efficient.

So my schedule became, get to work at 8:00. Distribute the carts. Go around and put the merchandise away.

Then at 9:00 my friends, the sales team, would arrive and I’d hang out with them until 10:00.

At 10:00 I took a break..

Then I’d do some carts.

Then it was time for lunch at noon.

Then at 1:00 it was time for the sales team’s lunch.

Then at 2:00 I’d do some carts.

I’d take my afternoon break.

And then I’d do some more carts.

And then I’d go home.

My area was spotless. The merchandise on the floor looked great. My carts were always done on time.

I was fast.

I was efficient.

Meanwhile, one day in mid-October about 6 weeks after I started, a young man showed up to stock the Hallmark cards.

He was very, very, very cute.

I was a stock boy, so I made it my mission to help him.

We chatted as I helped him “stock” the cards.

I cannot for the life of me remember his name.

He finished up at the same time I did.

We found ourselves walking to our cars together.

The time had already changed for the season and it was dark outside.

We arrived at his car and he asked if I wanted to join him.

I got him.

We talked for a while. Then made out for a while. Maybe a little more than make out.

Then we talked some more.

I told him that I was trying to get a waiting tables job, but was having no luck.

He shared that he had a boyfriend who waited tables. He’d ask him to put in a good word for me.

Of course he had a boyfriend.

I gave him my number and a week or so later he called me and told me his boyfriend worked at Bennigan’s and he’d told the manager about me, and that I should lie about my experience and also tell her that I knew the boyfriend.

I did as I was told.

I filled out the application.

I got called for an interview.

I was hired as a server.

I went in the next day to give my notice at JC Penney, and the manager said to me, I’m glad you are giving your notice, I’d planned to fire you. Then he explains that I was spending too much time not actually working. Even though, I got everything that was expected of me done every day, long before my co-workers did, I couldn’t spend the day talking to the sales staff instead of working.

Going to prove, that you should work slower, not faster.

Two weeks later I finished at JC Penney, and started at Bennigan’s at Lenox Mall in Atlanta, Georgia.

This job would change my life.

OH, AREN’T YOU PROUD TO BE, IN THAT FRATERNITY….

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I graduated from college in 1987.  

I had no plans, no goals, no idea what I was doing with my life. 

I spent the summer in Kansas City, but that’s not this post.  

In October, a friend from college’s brother mentioned that he was going to Atlanta to look for a job.  I jokingly said, I wish I could go with you.  He called two days later and asked if I wanted to go.  

24 hours later I was in a car driving to Atlanta with the brother and his best friend.  

We didn’t come home for three weeks.  

I did find a job that I hated in Atlanta.  

One that a lot of people right out of college find.

Telemarketing.  

I was hired to sell advertising for the little footballs that used to be thrown out at sporting events. 

I’d call a high school and convince a coach or athletic director to want them.  Then I’d call businesses in the area to sell them advertising to pay for the footballs.  

In the three weeks I worked there, I didn’t complete a single sale.  

I quit without notice, which was good, because I was about to be spoken to about my inability to complete a sale.  

We’d all gotten jobs at the telemarketing company.  

I quit first.

Then the brother.

Then the friend.  

I needed to pay my rent on the apartment that we all rented after we all got jobs at the telemarketing company.

So I took the first job that came along.  

I was hired at JC Penney. 

As a stock boy.  

My first day was the following Monday.  

On my first day, I reported for work.  Filled out all the requisite paperwork, then was introduced to someone we’ll call John.  (I don’t remember his name at all).

John shook my hand.  

He told me he was going to take me on a tour.  We started downstairs.  

He showed me the lighting department.  The kitchen items.   The towels. 

The stockroom was next. 

Then he led me to the escalator.  

He then said to me, we are going upstairs.  We were downstairs.  But as we get on the escalator, it will take us upstairs.  Understand?

He’d been talking down to me all the while, but now it was clear he thought I was stupid.  

My favorite part of the story and the reason for the post.  

We madenthe smallest of small talk as he showed me around.

I was dressed very casually, in jeans and a fraternity sweatshirt.  

At one point, he says to me, Oh, You are wearing a fraternity shirt, do you know someone in a fraternity?

I said yes, I do, I know a lot of people in a fraternity.  

How do you know people in a fraternity?  Was your brother in a fraternity?

I realize what is happening and I say, “uh.  I was in a fraternity”.  

He has a shocked reaction on his face and says, “You went to college?”

It has occurred to me at this point that because I’m a stockboy, that he thinks I’m less than smart. 

I assure him that not only did I go to college, but that I graduated also.  And I was in a fraternity.

He has no idea what to say.  He’s clearly made the wrong assumption about me.  

He stutters and stammers and stops talking.

He changes the subject and ends the tour five minutes later.  

I worked from September to October.  I’ll tell you why I left tomorrow.  

Tell me this feeling lasts till forever…

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I was awake at 2:30 this morning.

Which is a new thing, as I’ve been sleeping better than ever for the past three months or so. Seems a new job, new me, new car, new knee makes a difference in my life.

Why was I awake at 2:30 this morning?

Because I was consumed with things I can write about, that have nothing to do with the day to day service of my current restaurant.

Over the past month, I’ve created a list of potential topics.

Currently I have 287.

That’s after, spending 30 minutes last night, just brainstorming.

At 2:30 in the morning.

At some point I put my phone down and fell asleep.

I wonder if my writing friends of whom I have a lot, find themselves awake in the middle of the night, creating stories.

And it’s true, I have lots of friends who write and are published authors. Plays, Novels, Poems. Movies, etc. Some on the NY Times best seller. Some with Emmy’s. Some self-published. Some produced playwrights.

Some who do what I do and write for fun.

Long story short, its sometime hard to turn it off, when my brain gets going.

It’s also a lot more fun than it used to be, because those were stress posts. These are fun stories of my past. First jobs. Worst jobs? Great jobs? Embarrassing jobs.

So much fun.

Meanwhile.

I need to start writing 12 posts a day, so that I can get ahead of my list.

Now.

I need to get home.

I’m tired and tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.

We are busy. And it’s all 2-tops.

I’ve got to come in early, and create a new floor plan with all the tables pulled apart, just enough so that couples don’t yell at me.

I’ll wrap up my post by saying, if you get a pedicure the Sunday before Valentine’s Day, you have to wait because every girl in America is doing the same thing. And they charge you premium pricing.

It was my first since my knee surgery and my toes looked live hooves. I tipped her ten million dollars.

It ain’t so much a question of not knowing what to do…

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s funny.  

My day is filled with, lets write about that.  

Let’s write about this. 

Then I sit down to write and sometimes it’s there.

Sometimes I feel like it’s the first time I’ve written and can’t think of a damn thing.  

So, it is today.  

As a result, I’m going to comment on a post from this week.

On Friday, I wrote a post about a friend passing away.  

The first line of the post was:  But who would I be, if you had not been my friend. 

Most of you read my posts on Facebook.  

Because of this, you probably don’t know that on my blog, where I repost, I have a title to start the post.  

On my post from 3 days ago, it was, But who would I be, if you had not been my friend.  

What you don’t know, and my guess is, the people who read my blog might not know, if that the title is 99% of the time a lyric from a song.  And 99% of the time, it’s a lyric from a Broadway song.  

Sometimes it takes longer to find the right title than it does to write the post.  

And sometime, I come up empty handed and use a non-musical lyric, or sometimes I just leave it blank. 

But when I can, I love to find a lyric from a musical that is a comment on the post.  

If you’d like to see my blog, or even better share it with a friend the posts can be found here:

https://wordpress.com/view/id-like-to-speak-to-the-manager.com

I’ve sometimes wondered if I should include the lyric on Facebook, but except for the one time because it was so perfect, I have not.  

Let me know what you think, and if I haven’t said it lately, thank you for listening to my stories.