I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Server Edition!!!

It’s cold here.

I didn’t know it was going to be cold.

When I left for work it was not cold.

I went to work wearing a light jacket.

I didn’t think I was going to make it home tonight as I walked from the subway. It’s fucking cold.

Tomorrow I will watch NY 1 before I leave the house.

Thank god, we were finally busy tonight. And thank god, people were finally tipping. I walked with 15% of my sales tonight and considering I tipped out 5% of my sales, that means at the end of the night I had made 20%. Which is impressive because I know that I was stiffed on a 150 dollar check and a 125 dollar check. That means I was over tipped enough to make up for the 60 dollar tip I didn’t get.

Something happened tonight that happens a lot at work.
I dropped off the check for a foreign couple. I picked up their credit card a few minutes later, ran it and returned it to them. When I returned to the table, they were gone but they’d left cash with their credit card slip. And they had tipped 15 dollars, but they also put 15 dollars on the tip part of the credit card receipt. For the life of me I can’t figure out why they do this. They have to know they’ll be charged the total that’s written in the total line of the card. In fact, I have to close it out to the total. I do have to admit that most of us don’t mind when this happens because you get double tipped, but as I said I can’t for the life of me figure out why they do this.

On the same note:

When you go out to eat, don’t mistakenly take the credit card receipt with you. If you leave with the signed copy, the waiter gets nothing. Also check your math. If you add your tip to the total and miss carrying the one the waiter might end up being shorted on their tip. Of course, don’t be upset if you carry the one too many times and you double tip the waiter. We are required to close the check out to the total on the slip.

Oh.

And I had another walk out tonight. I went to get their check to transfer it to the bar and when I returned, they were gone. Luckily management doesn’t seem to get upset when it happens in cocktails. I think it’s because we deal with so many customers. I’m starting to think that I should ask for a credit card to run a tab on people at my counters. The weird thing about this is that I’ve waited tables in a million places for a million years and I never had a walkout till I started this job.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

My favorite survey result ever: 

First:

My FAVORITE steak restaurant in the 13 countries I’ve been to. Most tender and flavorful steak. Excellent service. Lovely atmosphere. 

Final comment:  

There is something the steak is cooked with that makes me and my dinner partner regularly have to use the bathroom… quickly, uncomfortably. Happens every time we come. The food is so good that we continue to come, but if there were a way to figure out what it is, that would be truly awesome.

No further comment is needed.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I have three more working days until I am off for 23 days. I mentioned this earlier in the week.

I also know that I mentioned this fact about a month ago, but I am not sure how many people caught it, but at the end of the month, Adam and I are flying to Argentina to meet Chef, where we are going to do a culinary exploration of Buenos Aires.

We will be there for New Year’s and have reservations for one of the best steak houses in the city. Chef is using this time to do research for the menu for next summer.

We are super excited, and I have already scheduled a chance to sing Don’t Cry for Me Argentina on the balcony of the Casa Rosada. It won’t be easy!!!

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I was hanging out at the host stand tonight.  My knee is still bothering me and I can stand there, without being too much in the way. 

I’m chatting with my host, and she says that she went to 8 stores looking for a wreath hanger today.

I ask her to repeat herself.

She says, she went to 8 stores looking for a wreath hanger today.

Without hesitation, I say, I HAVE A WREATH HANGER IN MY CAR!!!

She asks me to repeat myself.

I say, I have a wreath hanger in my car.  I put in there last January, when we undecorated at work.  It’s in my backseat.

She says, you have to be fucking kidding me.

I assure her that I am not kidding.

She then says, you aren’t just a general manager, you are a GENERAL MAN!

I laugh and tell her to get my keys when she’s leaving and she can get it, as long as I get it back in January.

She says okay.

Then promptly left without it.

So, if you need a wreath hanger. 

It’s in the back seat of my car. 

The following is a recent review we got on Yelp about 45 minutes after they dined with us:

I dined here recently with a party of three for on a Sunday, just as they opened for their first seating. The ambiance was fantastic, but the greeting was less than warm. The assistant host was unable to answer our questions and did not to know if they had a coat room or place to hang our jackets. Service would have been acceptable had the price have everything been cut in half. Two of the three steaks we ordered were not to temperature, the filet was over the $160 wagyu was raw. On top of that, they wagyu which claimed to be an A5 was certainly not. The porterhouse which was listed as a 22oz on the menu was less than an inch thick. The backwaiter did not know the seat numbers and auctioned off the food.

I think it was my fault for ordering an “A5 wagyu ribeye” for $160, and I should have known it wouldn’t be what it was claiming. Coming in on a Sunday may have been a mistake as well.

Overall, it was a disappointing experience and for $500, I expected much more. There are many better restaurants just miles away, but if you like steak, you may enjoy the meal.

This was the survey they left us about 15 minutes after they dined with us?

The facility was lovely, the welcome, ok. The service missed on a couple of points and, we were surprised at the wagyu appearance and size and it was undercooked. The filet was over cooked, looking back we may have been served the wrong meals but the sides were correct. When served the meals they were auctioned at the table, again surprised that at this level the waitstaff was not communicating who ordered what. We had food to take home and boxed that ourselves, I expect that is your policy and had to ask for a bag. One of our desserts ordered to share and served with 2 spoons. It was cheesecake, I expected forks and maybe an extra plate. I would say we were underwhelmed.

______________________

I want to be these people.

I want my life to be so perfect, that I have to search for things to complain about.

The less than warm greeting was me telling the guy who arrived first at 4:58 that he couldn’t get a drink at the bar because we had reservations. He huffed and puffed and was seated with the rest of his party at 5:03, when they arrived. We offered to seat him first when he arrived.

There is no assistant host on Sunday. They asked a food runner, who’s in her second week about a coat room. We do not have one.

WE ARE NOT A FINE DINING RESTAURANT.

We are a restaurant that serves fine food, but we don’t operate under the assumption that we will be fine dining. Do we follow steps of service, absolutely. But at no point, are we fine dining.

While we are on the subject, we don’t have back waiters. And I find it suspect that every other table got great service that night, meanwhile your experience was a disaster.

As for your steaks being under/overcooked…it might have been the case, but I assure you the Wagyu was not raw, and even Michelen star restaurants make mistakes. Did you let us know. Did you offer us the chance to make it right?

The Waygu is A5. Yes, it costs less than in Boston/LA/New York City. If we charged what we should to meet the margins expected it would be around $225 and we aren’t sure rural Maine can command that price. However, I assure you that it is indeed A5, and I assure you that you are the first person to complain about the quality. And the porterhouse doesn’t claim to be 22 oz. It’s 20 oz and lets not forget it has a huge bone in the middle of it.

I have no idea what the Sunday remark means. The chef cooks every night. I am there, every night. The staff on Sundays has been with me for almost 2 years.

As for better restaurants in the area. Why, yes. We are surrounded by AMAZING restuarants. You sum it up nicely. If you like steak you may enjoy the meal.

That is so true. Just like if you like Chinese food, then you are more likely to enjoy the Chinese restaurant. If you like seafood, you are more likely to enjoy the seafood restaurant.

As for fine dining, it doesn’t exist in our area. It just doesn’t. You want fine dining steak house service, you need to go to NYC or Boston or LA and I promise you the back waiter might know about coat check, but your steak will NEVER be as good as ours.

And oh, the horror of being served cheesecake with a spoon. The horror. The humanity of it all. All the guests are screaming around here.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Hi. Thank you for calling The Restaurant, how may I help you.

Hi, I have a reservation there tomorrow night and I was wondering what the dress code was?

We get this questions a lot, but I assure you that it’s quite casual.

So, I can wear jeans.  

Uhm. Yes. It’s casual.  

She realized how silly the question had been and laughed about it.  

Once last summer, I told someone that it was quite formal. White tie and tails only.  

I’m pretty sure that the only restaurant, in the whole state of Maine that is formal, is The Barn across town. And they’ve dropped their jacket requirement, as far as I know.

Are there any formal restaurant in our great state?

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

A server who works for me gave me a Christmas present today.

I’d say she gets me.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Adam and I went to NYC two weeks ago.  

We try to go once a year. 

We tend to do more than we should.  

And we spend WAY more than we should.  

But as I like to point out to people at work, we aren’t paying for college, braces, a third car, prom, trips abroad, travel sports, video games, laptops, school supplies, and a 2,500 square foot home.  

Cats are cheap. Plus, you they don’t expect to travel with you.

We went to NYC.  

And I missed two days of work.  

And there are people who come in, who wonder where I was two weeks ago, because I’m literally in the building 99% of the time.  

Tonight, a guest asked where I was. And I shared that I was in NYC. 

The following conversation has happened four or five times now.  

WOW. It’s a real shit show down there now.

The crime. The trash on the streets. The closed businesses. The homeless. We were just down there this fall, and it’s horrible. Disgusting. I can’t believe how much it has changed in the last three years.  

And I stand there, wondering, if they were really in NYC.

I lived there for 5 years. Moved away for 3. Then moved back for 6.  

Yes, it has changed.  

But.  

There are has always been trash on the streets. There have always been businesses closing. There has always been homeless people.  

And most of all.

It’s always been disgusting, which is single handedly, why everyone I know that lives there, lives there. 

I can’t speak for everyone, but most everyone I know gravitated to NYC, because they were looking for something. A career. Love. A hiding spot. Sanctuary. Freedom. Life. Safety.  

For me it was all of the above.  

So yes, it has changed.

But so has Maine. And Peoria. And Des Moines. And Tulsa. And Amarillo. And Los Angeles. And Seattle. And little Sadieville, Kentucky.  

And fun fact.  

Yes, a lot of places I used to love are gone. 

But the only real difference I can see in the city, is the addition of the outdoor seating pavilions that small and large restaurants alike have installed.  

Besides, who wants to go to city like NYC and not be a little disgusted. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

There are 2 things I knew as a child. 

1. I would go to college.  
2. I would get a job as soon as I could so that I could buy things for myself, that my parents wouldn’t.  

Full disclosure, it really wasn’t–wouldn’t, it was more a couldn’t.  They didn’t have the money to buy the things I wanted.  

It’s funny, looking back at what I spent my first paycheck on.  I bought clothes.  That were in style.  That weren’t from K-mart.  For my friends in Kentucky, I spent my $83 (I remember this) on clothes from McAlpin’s.  My family thought I was deranged.  That’s another story.  

I turned 16 on Sunday, April 12, 1981.  I just learned that on that day, the first NASA Shuttle was launched.  

Two weeks later, I started my first job.  

I was hired to be a dishwasher, at the Day’s Inn Restaurant on Delaplain Road, in Georgetown, Kentucky. Making $3.35 an hour.  

I was fucking stoked. 

I’ll have to post a photo if I can find one.  

I wore white uniform pants, a white uniform shirt, tennis shoes, with a brass name tag.  I was Robert, because they didn’t have a Jeff.  

My shift on the first day started at 4:00.  

I was nervous as fuck. 

And didn’t have a clue what I was doing.

I’d gotten the job, because my Aunt Debbie worked there as a cook, and my parents knew the husband/wife team that managed the hotel and the restaurant.  

I punched the clock.  

And I was off.  

The restaurant closed at 9:00 that night.

At 11:00 I was still washing dishes.  

My parents sat in the dining room, with the manager and my aunt, smoking, while I meticulously, scrubbed every dish spotless.  

I think I finished up around 11:30 that night.  

My parents had been told I was the slowest dishwasher they’d ever hired.  They were going to give me two weeks to figure it out.  And if I didn’t speed up, then I’d need to look for a new job.  

And speed up I did.  

Within six weeks, I was FAST.  

In six months, I was cooking.

In 12 months, I was waiting tables.  

And just shy of 2 years I was fired but these are all stories for another day.

The only thing that matters today, is that I went from the slowest dishwasher to the fastest dishwasher and cemented my career path in hospitality.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Server edition!!!
The following occurred tonight at work.

A four top was sat. Ordered. The food arrived. They ate.

The server seeing that the woman at the table was finished with her dinner, approached the table and tried to clear the her plate. 

At this point the women completely lost her shit. Why you ask? 

Because her plate was being cleared before everyone at the table was finished. She began to yell at the server because it was very rude of the server to take the plate when others at the table were still eating. At some point she, became completely indignant and demanded to see a manager.  

When he arrived, she began again.

By the time I heard all of this the server was crying in the wait station, because of course, the manager sided with the guest. 

Because the guest is always right.  

At some point I guess our new “English” manager explained that this was an English custom that some people were very strict about.

And my comment.

FUCK HER!!!

This is not fine dining. It’s not even close. You are eating a hamburger with French fries using a paper napkin. The mayonnaise you were given is in a plastic ramekin, and you are squirting ketchup directly from the bottle. When you ordered tea, it was Lipton, and the mug wasn’t even on a saucer. And if I were your server you wouldn’t have even get a spoon. You’d have a little cocktail straw.  

Hmmm. The server was being rude????

Once again.

Fuck you

You want to know what’s rude. Going to another country and then proceeding to demand that your customs be followed.  

Fuck you.  

Fuck you.  

Fuck you.  

Seriously.  

You don’t get to be indignant over a 16-dollar cheeseburger. You want fine dining go find fine dining. You want “proper” service, don’t go to high volume restaurant where the server’s job is to get you in and out in as little time as possible. Don’t go to a restaurant where the other 99% of the people want their plates cleared as soon as they finished. The next time you need “proper” service call up the fucking queen and see if she’s available for dinner. 

Oh.

You know what’s really rude?

To yell and berate someone in public.

In the big scheme of things on the rudeness scale.

Clearing your plate early. 1.

Yelling at a server. 100.