I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Today was a first for me. 

A woman shows up at 5:55 for her 6:00 reservation.  She’s carrying a bouquet of roses and let’s me know she is meeting her son and granddaughter to go to the play next door.  

She gets a cocktail and waits and waits and waits.  

It’s almost 6:30 before they arrive.  

The granddaughter is dressed in a Christmas dress.  

The dad looks like a father from a Hallmark movie.  He is wearing form fitting jeans, a tight black t-shirt under a jacket and has a bit of scruff.  He’s noticeably handsome.  

He tells his mom there was a problem deciding on a dress to wear.  

They get settled, get drinks and order as they have less than an hour before the show.  

And then I hear singing. 

And it’s literally the table 5 feet behind me and I turn and realize the little girl is channelling her best Andrea McArdle (the little girl from the play Annie) and is belting My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music.  She sounds great, like really great, but we are a 40 seat restaurant, and this is neither the time or the place.  

She sings all 12 versus. 

Then moves on to a Xmas carol.   

And then another song.

And her father is encouraging her.  

And the grandmother is loving it.  

Meanwhile, a very old lady turns around and says “What is that awful noise?”  

A server comes by and says “I have no idea what is happening.”

I ask if we charge extra for the entertainment.

I failed to mention she is using the pepper grinder from the table as a mic.  

This continues until their dinner is served.  

They eat 1/3 of their food before they have to go, but first a costume change.  

The grandmother takes the little girl to the restroom and when she comes out she is wearing a different Christmas dress.  

I do hope that she didn’t sing along to the musical they were going to see.

After they left, I said to the server, we should remember this as that little girl is going to win a Tony someday.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Anyone ever wonder how words end up in your lexicon?  

How you end up with responses you’ve never had before?

Sometime in the last two years I started calling people friends.  

As in “welcome friends.”

I used to get compliments all the time from people who said this made them feel like they were in my home. 

The reason I bring this up is that in the last week I’ve started saying Awesome!!!

As in, “how are you tonight?”

And I respond, “AWESOME!” 

This is completely new, and I have no idea where it came from.  

It feels completely comfortable in my mouth.  

And even better, is prompted people to comment.

Table 7 ask if that were the truth and I assured them that I love my job, and my life and couldn’t be better.  Absolutely awesome!

And for today that is true. 

A month ago I was depressed as all get out.  With my knee.  My job.  My bank account.  

Today I deposited my first paycheck in 3 months.  

Actually, I deposited my first paycheck in at least 3 years as they’ve been direct deposit in the past. 

It felt nice to wait in line and do it.  

Yes, I know that I can use my phone but I like the act of going to the bank.  It makes me feel good.  

And to further that, I had a great day at work.  We were busy.  The staff killed it.  And I met lots of new friends.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

An observation I made today.

My new restaurant is a staple in the Portland community.  We serve elevated, approachable comfort food.  

And yet.  

There are not a lot of kids dining with us.  

Occasionally, yes.

But not like my old restaurant.

One night at my old restaurant, there were 14 kids below the age of 6 seated having dinner.  It was chaos.  

One night, they were almost all seated in a single server’s section.  We referred to it as Garrett’s Day Care.  

Meanwhile, you’d think that a less expensive restaurant, serving more approachable food would be filled with children.

But alas, that is not the case.

I hope I didn’t just jinx myself.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

As I mentioned Adam and I went to the theater last night.  

In Boston.

From Portland to Boston is only a 2-hour drive. 

Door to door.

Assuming there is no traffic.  

Assuming.

Therefore, you have to give yourself ample time.  Sometimes it’s 2 hours.  Sometimes it’s 4.

We left at 2:00 for our 5:00 dinner reservation. 

Yesterday wasn’t too bad and we arrived around 4:15. Our restaurant didn’t open till 5:00, so we had a few minutes to spare.  Adam pulled out his lovely answer box and discovered there wasn’t much else open save for a Mexican place about two blocks from us.

We walked there and when we arrived, it was fairly non-descript space on a corner on a side street.  There was only one other table occupied.  The staff was clearly prepping for the evening service, as a bartender was cutting fruit and a server was rolling silverware.

An older Hispanic gentleman was at the lone table trying to take their order.  He motioned for us to sit anywhere and went back to the table.  There was a language barrier as he spoke mostly Spanish and they spoke mostly English.  

Finally, he got their order, and brought us two menus.  

He went to put their order in, grabbled silverware for us, and came back to the table.

We explained that we only wanted drinks and we ordered two Aperol spritzes.  

He went on his way, as Adam and I chatted about the show, our dinner plans, and new eye glasses.  We both need them.  

What seemed like forever passed and he brought our drinks.

He explained that he’d run out of Aperol, at least that’s what we think he said through broken English, but we do know he apologized, was very sweet and sat our drinks in front of us. 

We toasted, blew each other a kiss, and took a sip.  

It was an Aperol spritz of some sort, but it was clearly not traditional.  It was not bad by any means, and served its purpose by giving us something to do before dinner.  

We were sitting there chatting, when the gentleman approached the table again.  

He apologized for the Aperol spritzes and sat two new drinks in front of us.  

He explained that the first two drinks were not of the quality he liks, so he’d brought us something better.  We were so surprised, and protested, but he would have none of it.  

He insisted.

He walked away to serve the three other tables that had arrived since we sat.

We toasted and tasted the most wonderful coconut concoction, booze forward, especially for having to drive later, but delicious.  

We continued to sip them until around 4:45 and then we asked for the check by doing the official sign for we need a check.    

He came back to the table and told us there would be no charge, as we didn’t get what we ordered and he wanted us to leave happy.  

We were stunned, but Adam was having no part of it.  He insisted that we pay, because when you own a 40-seat restaurant, every penny counts. 

Finally, the man acquiesced and took Adam’s credit card.  A few minutes later he returned.  He’d charged us for 1 drink.  

We tipped more than the check and made a promise to come back, and not only have drinks but have dinner as well, as the menu looked amazing.  

Another table was coming in as we made our exit, and we walked hand in hand to our restaurant.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Adam and I went to Boston last night to see a play.

Tremendous show, we were both impressed.

Before the show we had dinner at a tapas restaurant.

We sat at a two-top that was spaced NYC style. Meaning that the tables next to ours was less than six inches away. When you live in New York, you get used to it, and after a while, you mostly stop noticing the conversations next to you, and just focus on your own date.

Which was mostly the case last night.

Except.

The table next to us was intriguing.

Adam thought they were on a date.

I’m pretty sure she was a friend seeking immigration advice as she was in the country on a student visa.

He was an attorney.

I know a little about immigration law, as a manager of a restaurant in Maine who has often brought J-1’s and H2B visa employees to work for me. They are some of the best.

His commentary sounded legit, although I was ready to whip out the contact information for my favorite immigration lawyer who lives in Boston.

The meal was quite delicious, although our server forgot to bring two of the small plates we ordered. I was mostly disappointed that we didn’t get to try the octopus.

But when all was said and done, we were full and really didn’t need them.

However, about 30 minutes into our meal, the man next to us knocked his cocktail off the table. He didn’t knock it over. He knocked it off. It hit bottom first and exploded with a boom. Glass and liquid went everywhere.

He didn’t apologize.

He didn’t help to clean it up.

He didn’t check with the table on the other side of him, which was the side of the table the glass was on.

He instead went into lawyer mode.

“Doesn’t the table look slanted.”

“Is the table level?”

“I think the server put the glass too close to the edge of the table.”

And a few more comments that made me laugh.

Meanwhile, I’m thinking, if you are worried about liability, then I’m pretty sure some concern for your neighbors would go a long way.

Perhaps, say, are you folks okay?

Do you need anything?

Let us move while you clean up the mess.

But alas, he made his comments, then sat there and went back to eating.

When a new drink arrived, he made a point of taking it from the server and setting it in the middle of the table.

I’m still convinced it wasn’t a date.

And if it was, I’m hoping it was her last with him.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Back in the late 2000’s NYC passed a law requiring servers to take a break after 6 hours on the clock.

In NYC because restaurants are open late this required lots of restaurants to find a solution.

I was working at the Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square at the time.

When the law first past we took our breaks at the beginning of our shift.

We’d clock in at 4:45 and then immediately clock out. Then click in at 5:15 and go on the floor.

This lasted for 6 months or so.

Then.

The HRC made the decision to hire people to give us our breaks.

So we’d clock in after pre shift and then at some point during our shift someone would tap us on the shoulder and say it was time for a break.

The person tapping you on the shoulder would be the least trained, least experienced person in the building.

So at say, let’s say 7:30, I’d transfer all my tables to a break server, and could clock out. 30 minutes later, I’d click back in and resume my shift.

Yes.

It was as chaotic as you could imagine.

On one of my first breaks I transferred my checks and introduced my tables to their break server.

One of my tables just needed to order dessert.

Fast forward 30 minutes and I return from break.

My breaker tells me where everyone is and I discover that she never took the dessert order.

I seriously had a table sitting for 30 minutes waiting to order dessert.

What the fuck?

I write this because when Adam and I were in NYC our server went on break. Leaving us hanging without the server knowing what was going on.

We left before she returned.

I know people need breaks. M

But servers have been doing this for centuries. There has to be a better solution.

Meanwhile.

I’m going on break.

Good luck with the rest of your meal.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

My boyfriend is asleep next to me.

We started getting ready for bed at 10:00.

I decided to read.

I’ve read since 11:00. It’s 12:55.

A book called Bungalow Terrace written by my friend Robert Monroe.

I enjoyed the hell out of it till he started killing off my favorite characters.

I had the day off.

I slept late.

Met my friends Michelle and Lisa and toured a historic house.

Then drinks at a bar new to us.

And then dinner with my boyfriend at my new restaurant.

The food, service and experience were superb.

And now it’s 1:00 in the morning. I read for two hours and if Bob would stop killing people id be happy.

Life is good.

And that’s all you can ask for.

And I just discovered my new boss commented on my last post and that makes me happy.

If you know. You know.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Week one is the the bag.

Fun fact. I did not work 70+ hours.

Fun fact: I still have gas in my car because I did not drive 12 hours in six days.

Fun fact: I had dinner with my boyfriend 5 days this week.

Fun fact: I didn’t get yelled at once this week. Neither by a guest, a boss, or an employee.

Fun fact: After tonight I think the staff has seen my value at one of the restaurants.

Fun fact: My imposter syndrome is fading. Maybe. Just maybe I do know what I’m doing.

Fun fact: It takes 12 minutes to get to work.

Fun fact: I’ve written every day this week and I’ve enjoyed it.

Fun fact: I was off two days this week.

Fun fact: in the 3 months since I lost my job I have seen my friends more than I’ve seen them in three years.

Fun fact: I’ve spoken to my friend Laura more in the past month than in the six months before I lost my job.

Fun fact: What’s Christmas Prelude?

Fun fact: Adam and I have gone to bed together every night for the past three months.

Fun fact: I’m reading my first book in over a year and the author is a friend of mine.

Fun fact: I’ve gotten at least 8 hours of sleep for the past week. My insomnia seems to have moved on.

Fun fact: My knee is terribly uncomfortable at the end of my day but it’s a million times better than it was mid August. I don’t limp any more.

Fun fact: I had time to put Xmas lights up outside this year for the first time in 3 years.

Fun fact: I’m going to a museum tomorrow. Just for the fun of it.

Fun fact: For the first time in two years I don’t feel depressed. Even though i haven’t had a paycheck in 3 months.

Fun facts: I got more comments on my I got fired post then I got on my mom died post.

Fun fact: I’m happy. Truly happy. I have boyfriend I love. I have 5 cats that I adore. I have awesome neighbors to a house that I can’t believe is mine. I finally have a new car. I have a new job that I don’t stress about. I live in the greatest small town in the country, in an awesome state. I have wonderful friends both near and far who I learned this summer really love me. I have a new knee after three years of suffering. We have food on the table and a roof over our head. And life is good.

Happy Sunday all. I love and appreciate all of you.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I don’t know how much I’d missed writing.

It’s been fun getting back to it.

I also didn’t realize how awful my office at home looked until I started spending time in it again.

A dining out experience tonight.

I had to run by the mall after work tonight.

I stopped by chipotle afterwards.

Two things.

First as a customer you don’t have to stick your head over the sneeze guard to be heard by the staff. Sound carries. They’ll hear you and it will be more sanitary.

Then I ordered a burrito. They heated up the tortilla, added the rice and chicken and only then did I discover they were out of mild salsa, corn salsa, sour cream, cheese, and guacamole.

They were going to give me a burrito with chicken and rice.

I politely explained that I didn’t think I wanted a burrito after all.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s been weird being in a new restaurant(s).

They are all function the same, they just dress up the product more or less depending on the check average.

From an employee point of view the basics are the same, once again dressing up the service, based on the check average.

What’s been tricky for me, is knowing when food is in the window needing to be run.

For the past 2.5 years there was a bell. If it was dinged once, it meant food runners were needed at the window.

If it dinged twice then I was needed in the window.

At my new restaurants there are no bells. The chefs call for the servers and the food gets where it needs to be. There isn’t a lag, a pile up, or panic. The staff all seems to be in tune with when they need to run food and it magically just happens.

Tonight, an 8 tops food, seamlessly, landed on the table and I didn’t even notice it was happening. By the time I realized, and asked if help was needed, the table was fed, re-watered and happily eating.

What a concept.

The sounds of the restaurant are quite different as well.

The music, the staff, the door, the guests, the bar, the lack of TV’s, the dish area, the chef, the kitchen.

All so different.

It’s also been funny the last two nights being on the floor of a new restaurant for service.

I like to interact with the guests. Get to know them. Treat them like friends who’ve come to my home for dinner.

Last night and tonight, servers came running up to me after I’d spoken with guests wanting to know what the guests were upset about. Surely they wouldn’t be talking to a manager if they weren’t unhappy with something.

Both time, it had been me, who’d approached the guests, and inquired about their experience.

Last night because I’d recognized them from my old restaurant.

And tonight, it was because it was their anniversary.

My staff will never know if they are upset, or if I’m just being friendly.

Tonight, I learned that the anniversary table was not married. But had been together for 16 years. One of them explained to me, that her date had been married 3 times and their relationship had lasted longer than all of his marriages put together. He laughed and said the secret was not to get married.

We all laughed and had a nice chat about gratitude.

Then they were off, just in time for a walk-in party of three from Orlando to join us for dinner.

The new gig has started off well.

Although my to do list gets longer every day.

And my knee gets bigger.