I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

As all of you know, we went to DC two weeks ago as well.

Adam and I splurged on the trip and stayed at a nice hotel. We usually stay in less expensive hotels because we only use them for sleep. We were celebrating our anniversary and Valentine’s Day and said what the heck.  

I told them we were celebrating out anniversary when I booked it. They gave us a bottle of bubbles and chocolate upon our arrival.  

When we were there, the doormen were terrific. We got amazing service.  

The room was spectacular, with the largest hotel bathroom I’d ever seen. Two sinks. A separate shower area, big enough for a marching band.  

It was not super expensive, but it was very nice.  

So, when we discovered we were going back, we booked at the same hotel.

When we arrived this time, there was nodoorman.

We were checked in and went to our room.

There was a huge column in the middle of the room. Right in front of the table and chairs. You could not see the TV from the chairs.  

The room was a million times smaller.

And.

The best part, the bathroom was the smallest of any hotel/motel/inn/campground bathroom I’d ever seen.

To get to the shower, you had to squeeze between the toilet and the wall (I’m seriously not exaggerating) and then while standing there you had to close the door in order to get in. The shower was big enough for half of me.  

If this had been the situation on the first trip, we’d have stayed at the Holiday Inn Express five blocks down the street on the 2nd trip.

It was disappointing to say the least.  

Luckily, we only used it for sleep, so it was okay in the end. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

One of Adam’s favorite places in the world is an airport.  

When we fly, we always leave a little extra early, so that we can eat and drink before the flight.

Well, he eats.  

I drink.

This is a holdover from when I used to be nervous to fly. Many years later I don’t think about it much. Mostly because a friend once said, that if the plane crashes it will be the most exhilarating 90 seconds of your life. And she’s not wrong.

On Monday, we got to the airport early enough to have breakfast.  

We order.

We get our food.  

Three things happened at the same time.

Chef and his brother approached as they were on the same flight as us.

Adam asked me a question.

The server, who was female, asked if I wanted more coffee.

And I replied, trying to answer Adam, but answering the server instead, “That would be great, babe.”

She walked away, and I said, did I just call her BABE?

I was so embarrassed.  

When she returned, I apologized profusely.

She found the whole thing funny.

Luckily, it was time for our flight and we paid the check and left.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Adam and I went back to DC this weekend.

For the record, when I say weekend, I mean our weekend.  Monday and Tuesday.  Not the real weekend.  

We flew down Monday morning and flew back Wednesday morning.  

WOW.  

Do you guys travel a lot?

The thing is, this trip came from out of the blue.  

I work in a small town, where a very famous family lives.  They have government protection you might say.  And the people that protect the family, eat at my restaurant. 

A LOT.  

In fact, the agency, I am speaking of, honored the restaurant with an award for service to the agency, because Chef took very good care of them during COVID.  It is the only restaurant in the history of the agency to get this award.  Chef is very proud of it.  

One of the agents, eats with us almost weekly in the summer.  

And.

His son was hired a year ago to be a foodrunner, with us.    

He is a true friend to the restaurant.  

Last year, he was transferred to DC, to cover a certain more famous person.  During his last meal with us, he told me and Chef that if we ever wanted to come to DC and see the White House to let him know.

Unbeknownst to me.  Chef reached out.  

Two weeks ago, Chef told me that if Adam and I wanted to travel to DC on February 20^th, we can see the White House on Tuesday morning.  

So, Adam and I flew down on Monday.  And back on Wednesday.

And at 8:45, we arrived at the gates, with lots of other people, walked through mucho, mucho security and at 9:15 walked through the visitor’s entrance.  And we were in the White House.    

First, it’s much smaller than I thought it would be.  I’ve been in homes with much larger rooms.  

However, when you think about the history that has occurred it’s a little overwhelming.  

We only saw public areas, but it was still great.

The Vermeil Room.  

The Library.  

The China Room. 

The Movie Theater.  

Lots and lots of artwork, much of which I’ve seen in TV and movies, but up close and personal they are amazing.  A portrait of JFK.  Michelle Obama.  The Reagan’s.  The portrait of George Washington that was saved by Dolly Madison.  The portrait of Lincoln that hangs in the State dining room. 

We saw the state dining room, where a certain, person served Big Macs to a sportsball team.  

We saw the hallway, where the President walks down to give important messages.  

We were in the hallway, where an amazing photograph was taken with a Obama and his dog.    

Fun fact, the docents in each room, work for the agency, carry guns and have handcuffs.  

One of them asked if we had any questions, we did not, but the woman next to us did and started a conversation that lasted about 15 minutes.  We used our new knowledge that they know the history of the rooms to ask more and more questions as we finished our tour.  

In all it took about 90 minutes.  

And as I said, the history was amazing.  

There was also a reverence about it.  

Most of us moved through quietly, whispering to each other.  

We ended at the big entrance to the White House.  

It too, is much smaller than I thought it would be.  And kind of plain.  

But when you think of all of the insanely famous people who have walked through the doors, it is very, very special.  

We took lots of photos and were quite grateful for the ability to do this.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Tonight, a couple comes in at 7:00.

I greet them, and send them in to be seated.  

90 seconds later a man from the table comes out and asks if they can have one of the private tables.

We have two tables in our dining room that are meant to seat large parties. From 6 to 8 people. They are in rooms, with barn doors that can close them off. People ALWAYS request to sit there.  

Unfortunately, much of the time I have to say no.  

Why? Especially if no one is sitting there?

Because, I have to have a place for larger tables, should they come in. Especially when the other dining room is closed.  

What’s funny, is that it is a huge table, in a square banquet, that traps you at the table, and I think for two people it would be quite awkward.  

So, I said to the man, I can’t seat you in the private room, but I can move you to a booth.  

He declines and goes back to his table.  

90 seconds later, he appears and says, Can I change my mind and have the booth afterall. Does it cost more?

And I thought to myself. Does it cost more?

Are there restaurants who charge you based on the table you have?

This one has a $20 cover charge.

This one $100.  

This one is 50 cents because it’s next to the men’s room?

I told him of course he could change his mind. And they moved.  

And.

Like a true gentleman, I found out, that he gave his original server a $20 bill.  

What a classy move. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!!

It was busy tonight.  

Crazy, crazy busy.

The last time we did more business than tonight, was October 1, 2022.  

I ended up running the door for the most part tonight, because one of my hosts called out.

Since I was the one who was going to get yelled at if we started to back up, I played loose and fast with seating all night. I didn’t tell a single person no all night. 

Not even the guy who walked in at 5:45 looking for a 6 top reservation, when I had already told his fiancée twice earlier in the day I couldn’t do it.  

Lucky for him a 4 top cancelled about 90 seconds before he came in, and I moved things around so I could accommodate them at a larger table.  

He was beside himself, because story had it, he was supposed to make this reservation 2 weeks ago. He gave me 40 bucks on his way out to say thanks you.  

EVERYONE who came in was told to stand over there and wait and let me see what I could do.

And I’d look at the I-pad and eventually say yes, even though it was truly gambling tonight.  

Truly.  

We did back up around 7:45 because tables stopped turning.

We were very backed up at 8:00.  

I had a 2-top with a reservation and I did not have a place for them.  

I needed a miracle.

And true to form, it worked out and things started to open up.

Now to the point of my story.

At 7:45, the phone rings.

I answer.  

A man tells me he has a reservation at 8:00 and is going to be late.  

I tell him to take his time, because god knows I need the time.  

The 8:00’s start to arrive.  

The phone rings.  

Same man telling me that he is going to be on time.

Ugh.  

I’ve already moved things around. I don’t have time to move them back.

Here’s the thing.

We have a section of our restaurant that is quite lovely, but it’s not part of the main dining room and we save the 2-tops in that area till day of. I you call me on a busy Saturday night in August, at 4:15 that’s where you are going to be sitting.  

I try, try, try never to seat people there who made their reservations two weeks ago. Sometimes I have to, but I try really hard not to.

It’s now 8:00.  

There are four couples waiting to be seated. 2 at the bar. 2 in the dining room.  

In walks my late table, who is now on time.  

I get them checked in.  

Tables are opening I start seating people.

The bar first. Always first.

They are easy to seat and it can clear the lobby of 7 or 8 people in a matter of seconds.

I have three couples waiting now.  

I seat 2 girls who’ve just come in.  

The woman who is part of my late/on time table comes ups and says, “excuse me. We have an 8:00 reservation. I’d appreciate it if you could seat us on time.”  

I say of course, unfortunately, you called to say that you were going to be late.

She interrupts and says, yes, but we called back to say we’d be on time.

I explain that I’d already moved things around to accommodate everyone and I’ll get them seated as soon as I can.

She gets mad now and says, I understand that, but the two girls who just got sat came in after us. I don’t appreciate being skipped over.  

I apologize and ask her to give me a couple of seconds.  

She is seated immediately.  

Back story.  

The two girls were seated in a row to 2 tops in the dining room. Think NYC restaurant, where there is banquette with 6 or 7 deuces very close together.  

The late/on time table, I had planned to sit at a nicer table, because as luck would have it Chef knew them. I was waiting for the 4-top they were going to be seated at, to be readied.  

But.  

Ask and you shall receive.

Instead, they were seated at G-6. The absolute worst table in the restaurant because it was the only table I had that was ready.  

It’s by the door to the gallery area, it slams and there is a wind tunnel every time the door opens.

As they leave the lobby to be seated, the couple remaining looks at me and says, excuse me, we demand to be seated right now as well.  

Then they laugh.  

Their reservation is for 8:30. They were going to go to G-6. They made their reservation about 6:00 tonight.  

I laugh and say that I’m glad that I had a witness to that. They ask if it happens a lot and I say more than I’d like.

I let them know that I’ll be seating them very soon.

And ask if they’d like to know a secret.

I swear them to not repeat it, 

And then I tell them that they were supposed to get the table that I sat the couple at. But since she insisted that I seat them immediately, they were now seated there. And fun fact, it’s the worst table in the restaurant.  

They laugh, and I send them on their way to a lovely 4 top table where they can spread out and be comfortable.  

90 minutes later, late/on time couple leaves. I head to the lobby in case there is any push back. The woman goes to the restroom and her boyfriend walks over and apologizes for the outburst when they arrived.  

I thank him and tell him I was glad he enjoyed his meal.  

As they say, be careful what you wish for. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I have had amazing people work for me over the years. 

AMAZING.

All with different talents. 

Some were grumpy but could bartend like a champ.

Some were sweet and could calm every situation with a smile.

Some were just kind, nice, loving, and giving.  

Some were troubled, and sad, and we supported them as they did their jobs.    

All of them were talented and I still love all of them.  They know who they are.  

Tonight.  

One of those people had their last shift with me.  

He gave his notice a month ago.  

He’s taken a real job.  (Real jobs are stupid.  So is college.  Fight me on this).  

Since the real job will let him work from anywhere, he’s headed west to stay with friends.  

Idaho to be exact.  

It was bittersweet today during pre-shift when Chef thanked him for his service.  

I echoed the sentiments, reminding everyone that this was our third job together. 

He worked with me in Portland.  He worked with me in Ogunquit.  Both times less than 2 months.  Both times because I moved on.  

This time it’s been 18 months.

He has been an exemplary employee and more than that, he’s one of the good ones.

Tonight, he ordered a 2” NY Strip as his last meal.  Chef cooked it for him.  Then also served up a huge platter of French Fries, with chicken parmesan and a fried egg on top.  He and his cohort in crime enjoyed it while everyone else finished up.  

Around 11:00 we said our goodbyes.  

I gave him a huge hug and wished him well, after reminding him for the 2,956 time that real jobs are dumb. 

I wish him well.  And I speak for everyone at my restaurant when I say he will be missed terribly.  

Best of luck my friend. 

Go out and do great things. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

You ever get a big fat red flag when you hear from someone?  

When they reach out for a favor?

When they reach out for a job?

When they continue to reach out for a job?

Just before Xmas a man came into the restaurant on a Saturday night, told the host that he had been hired as a bartender at the new restaurant and was coming in to check things out. 

He wanted a seat at the bar, but of course we were busy and there wasn’t one.  

He wandered into the bar, came back and asked if he could have a drink standing out of the way to watch the goings on.  

The hosts told him unfortunately no.

He was not pleased with this news at all.  

He finally left.

My only regret was that they didn’t let me get eyes on him.  

At the first of January, he reached out on Social Media, to ask about being hired.

I told him the same thing I tell everyone, including, people I know.

Send me your resume.  

He responded with an email, about how he loved the new restaurant as a kid, how he wanted to bartend and would like to speak with me.  

I once again, advised him to forward his resume, that we weren’t hiring, but I would keep his resume on file until we were.  

Two days ago, I got another email from him asking me if I was local during the winter.  And if we could speak on the phone. 

Huh?

I’m the GM of a year-round restaurant in town.  Of course, I’m not local.  I’m in Key West shot gunning  Corona’s hoping that the restaurant, which is still busy by the way, can run itself.

I write back and explain that yes I’m local.  And asked what the phone call would be regarding…

Today I got the following email:

Hi,

I don’t have a resume of all my restaurant and hospitality experience.  I feet more comfortable explaining why I want to work at the new restaurant over the phone rather than a generic resume.  I am curious as to what the plans are for the new space—I have some ideas.  All I ask is a phone call or I can meet you at the restaurant before opening next week.  Heck, even Chef gave me 5 minutes when I stopped by a few weeks ago.  

Thanks.  

I have not responded. 

A friend said I should at least BE curious about the phone call.  

But here’s the deal, if a grown person can’t follow the basic instructions in getting the job, will they ever be able to follow the more emphatic instructions that come with the day-to-day operations of the restaurant.  

Also, I’m fucking in the weeds.  Last night I stayed 90 minutes after service was over to get a little caught up.  

At the end of the night tonight, Chef reminded me of at least 6 things I was supposed to get accomplished today, and they are still on my to do list.  I left work at 11:00.  

I’m also a little worried in today’s climate as to what happens if I don’t hire him.  

And.

Everyone wants to be a bartender.

And I do mean everyone.

So many people walk through the door, saying they worked at the diner across town, but they’d be happy to train on the bar.  

Or they beertended at the brewery up north and so they know they can absolutely kill at our bar.  

They’ll come in to interview as a host, with no restaurant experience and in 90 seconds will tell me they really want to hear about the bartending position.   

Fun fact:  The bartenders at my restaurant get royally ramrodded every night.  We flat seat 75 people in 15 minutes.  This means 75 cocktails, beer and wine, that are put out by 5:20.  This is absolutely not for the faint of heart.  I’ve seen bartenders crash and burn under less stress.  And 90% of our guests start with a cocktail.  You are not popping open a few Budweisers.  You are making 25 espresso martinis to start your night.  And just as you get caught up, the wine orders start to appear, and as this occurs as we flat seat another 50 people at 5:30.  

Yes.  There are two bartenders.  But the one NOT on service bar, has been flat sat 6 couples.  And before he’s got their orders in the POS he is going to be flat sat another 6 couples.  He’s not helping much on service bar.  

They do make excellent money.  But they work hard for it.  Very.  Very.  Hard.  

So, the idea that I’m going to hire someone, who is not well versed in high volume service bar execution for our new restaurant, is seriously, NOT very likely to happen.   

So I’m at a loss as to what to do.  

And I truly don’t have time to spend even 15 minutes not getting the six things off my to do list tomorrow.  

Thoughts?

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Anyone else have imposter syndrome?

What do you mean, you ask?

That you really aren’t able to do the things you’ve promised people you’d do.

When I was hired as a GM 10 years ago, I was worried for 5 years that someone would figure out I had no idea what I was doing.

It was the same when I was designing. There is no way I can design the show you have hired me to design…I don’t have the talent.

This holds true in other areas of my life.

And sometimes I push through.

And sometimes, I write a post about it, so you can help me push through.

At the beginning of January, a friend I knew from waiting tables in NYC reached out. He complimented my blog and then asked if I’d be interested in appearing on he and his wife’s podcast to talk about it.

I immediately said yes.

That was a month ago, and I still have not given them the information they need to actually make the recording happen.

Why you ask?

Because absolutely no one is interested in my opinions on the service industry. Trust me on this.

I will come across as an ass. Sound like an idiot. And embarrass myself.

I of course know this is not true. Just like 10 years ago, I knew that I could be a GM.

It’s just the voices in my head as I am falling asleep that tell me to not do it.

So.

I’m committing to getting the form filled out.

I’m committing to scheduling a time to do the podcast.

And I’m committed to letting you know when to listen to me sound like an intelligent, service industry professional.

That is all.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Adam and I don’t really eat out much when we are in town. We work all the time, and are paying for a house we love, and so when we are in Portland, off together, 90% of the time we are dining at home.  

That being said, we do travel a bit, and do eat out occasionally with friends.  

I very often take our experiences back to my restaurant to share with the team.  

Many times, they are great stories about how we were treated. For example when we were in NYC and were given dessert because we were the only non-business lunch happening, and it was clear we were enjoying ourselves.  

There are also stories that I take back to work with the statement of what NOT to do while waiting on tables.  

For example, two of our experiences in DC, last weekend.  

We dined at a kind of modern, French restaurant. Definitely not a bistro, which we love.  

The restaurant had 40 people stuffed into a space about the size of my office. Definitely, smaller than our master bedroom.  

The big problem is that I’m not a girl’s size 2. I’m chunky. I’m aware of my size. I’m aware of how much space I take up. And I was not allowed to forget it last Monday.  

Adam is my advocate in these situations, as I will often, make do. As soon as we walked in, we knew it was going to be a problem. Unfortunately, the tables were so quished together that there was not a better solution. He kept making suggestions, but alas all of them sucked.  

To get to the table we were taken to, I had to squeeze between a bar stool and a chair that were about six inches apart. Needless to say, I bumped into the chair of the man who would be sitting next to us as I tried to get to our table.

I get seated, and realize that if there is 6 inches between the chair and the barstool at the table next to us, there is going to be no room between my chair and the barstool. I tucked my chair as far under the table as I could, and now the table was sticking into my stomach about 5 inches. I couldn’t breathe.  

Then the service starts.  

The server had no use for us. Adam and I are not get to know your server people. We are polite. Friendly. And try to be gracious. We are there to be with each other, not to make new friends. This is also why we hardly ever sit at a bar for dinner.  

The server is abrupt, short and a little cranky. We order drinks. Adam asks to keep the wine list and is told no, the table is not big enough for the wine list and the food that is coming. It’s a 5 x 7 booklet. Hmmm. Okay.  

The meal progresses.  

Fun fact. Organic wines are yucky!!! This is all they serve. Give me all the chemicals. All of them.  

I watch as the chef, who is at the window, turns around to give someone doing the chef’s tasting menu, their first course. He’s got the personality for a wet noodle. There is nothing engaging or interesting about his interaction with the guests. He announces the food, like a food runner might. He tells them what it is, but never once makes it sound exciting. I’ve eaten many times at restaurants doing tasting menus, the chefs are always cordial, engaging and happy to have people eating their food. This was not the case.

Our food begins to arrive.  

However, I’m never able to relax because there is seriously, about three inches between my chair and the barstool behind me. And the staff has to pass behind me to get from the kitchen to the other side of the dining room. It was horrible.

I can’t tell you how happy I was when the couple sitting behind me at the bar finally left.  

The food was fine. Probably, even good, but the space was so ridiculous that I’d never, ever go back.  

Tune in on Tuesday night.  

We get to the restaurant, just as it opens. A Peruvian restaurant. We are excited to try it as Chef turned us on to the cuisine in Argentina.  

They open at 5:00, and it’s 4:59 when we are seated. We are the only guests in the restaurant. We hate eating this early, but a 7:00 curtain, means you eat at 5:00 or earlier, unless you want to wait till after the show.  

We are seated, order drinks. They arrive and we tell the server that we are ready to order.

Adam explains that we have to be on the sidewalk, waiting for our Uber at 6:15. We are probably going to order to much food, and that they should course it however works best for their timing and to get us out on time. We explain that they shouldn’t wait till we are finished with one course to get us the next.  

The restaurant is tapas/small plates and we always over order in these situations.  

ALWAYS.  

We order I think 7 small plates and an entrée to share.  

The server leaves. About 4.5 minutes later, the first plate arrives. And in quick succession, absolutely everything we have ordered lands on the table by minute 6. All the small plates AND the entrée. Oh. Except for the octopus, which never arrived at all.  

The table was covered in food. We had no idea what plates were what. The entrée was actively getting cold as we began to eat.  

We never saw the server again till around 5:50 when they came to see if we needed anything, and wanted dessert. 

We said no, asked for the check and by 5:55 we were standing on the sidewalk waiting for our Uber.  

So, friends.

What NOT to do.  

Do not create a space that works for you and not your guests.

Do not be unfriendly as a server.  

Do not misunderstand when someone says you do the coursing.  

Do not, not come back to the table.  

I could continue, but this feels like work.

PS. To end on a good note.

The restroom of restaurant 1 was also the size of my office. Seriously, they could have sat 25 more people in there.

The restroom of restaurant 2, was one of the most unique pretty spaces I’ve ever seen. I’ll post a photo.  

We would never go back to either restaurant. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s been 10 days since I last posted.  

First, Adam and I took a trip to Washington DC.  We had a great time, but I came home with the sniffles, but more importantly, I came home exhausted.  Every night last week, I came home, ate a snack, and climbed into bed.  

Today is really the first day that I’ve felt like a normal person again. 

2^nd, last Thursday at my manager’s meeting, Chef mentioned that two people had emailed him about my blog post titled “A 70 year-old’s favorite nursery rhyme.  Both people felt as though I was making fun of old people. 

Chef reminded me to be careful what I posted.  Because you never know who is reading.

I assured him that I was NOT making fun of anyone.  Just retelling a story that happened in the restaurant.  

He was not mad, but it kind of sucked the wind out of me, thus I didn’t write last week.  I also made my blog private.  So if you know anyone out there who reads, they can register and I’ll approve them.  

The funniest part of Chef being told about the post, was that it was the first time he’d ever looked at it, he said it good, but way too long for him to read, because he’s a busy man.  He sounds like Adam.  

I’m feeling better.  

My blog is private.  

Let’s get back to writing…