I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Yesterday someone texted asking if they could get an 8:30 reservation for tonight.

I didn’t see the text until I got home so planned to deal with it when I got to work today.

By the time I arrived they’d texted back saying they’d booked it online.

Fun fact.

Per the way reservations work I was not surprised when they texted they’d be late.

End of night reservations are always late.

Fun fact. The last reservation before theirs was at 7:30.

No big deal.

But at 8:45 they still weren’t there.

At 8:50 I texted to see if they were coming.

They arrived at 8:55.

At this point the kitchen had been finished since a bit after 8:00.

They ordered 4 courses.

Including the 20 minute dessert at the end of the meal.

I didn’t care that we had an 8:30 reservation. It’s the reality of the business.

But to show up 30 minutes late.

And keep 15 people at work.

And then take two full hours.

And.

You worked in the business.

I’d have turned my car around and ordered Burger King before I’d show up 30 minutes late for a reservation at the end of the night.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

The knee pain continues.

I’ve known for a long time that I’d have to wait three months after my last cortisone shot to get surgery.

I never knew it wasn’t the cortisone.

It’s the needle.

I called today to try and schedule an appointment to have the fluid removed.

I was told no.

And fun fact.

My knee pain began almost 15 years ago when I first started sleeping at Adam’s house.

So in truth I’ve had a good run.

I mostly hate looking like an old man.

I limp around like a 90 year old. It feels conspicuous. And uncomfortable.

My surgery is 9 wwwks from Wednesday.

Keep your fingers crossed that my knee holds up.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

My knee is getting worse.

I’ve noticed for a couple of weeks.

But at the new restaurant no one has reference.

Last night as I was waiting for people to finish up there was a new pain.

Shooting down my leg.

It was worse when I stopped for a burrito at Taco Escobar.

Sidebar:

When I got there at midnight on a Saturday night it was packed.

There was no room to sit.

The host approached my.

Just as I finished my takeout order a bar seat open up.

I get seated and order.

30 minutes later.

My order arrives.

Twice.

The host and the bartender has both put the order in.

The bartender who I’ve met a couple of times tells me not to worry about it. Tells me to keep both orders.

I pay the check. Double the check for the tip. And leave.

Halfway up Congress street there is a homeless man. I stop in the middle of the street. Ask if he wants dinner. And gives him one of my bags.

Meanwhile my knee is throbbing.

I get to bed an hour or so later.

Fall fast asleep and around 4:30 I wake myself up moaning.

The pain is intense.

I even took a pain pill.

I’ll keep you posted about tonight.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I write my posts on Facebook.

Then I copy them to my blog.

Which is set to private. But if you know someone who would enjoy it let me know and I’ll approve them.

However.

On the blog I get to create a title.

And 90% of the time the title is a musical theater reference.

Sometimes subtle.

Sometimes obvious.

For example the title for the post before this was On A Clear Day….

If you know you know.

I’m sure of my five readers on my blog only Bob gets it.

It makes me smile though.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Today was a better day.

Thank god my staff realizes my struggle. They are mostly kind and supportive.

My staff at the new restaurant has learned my TELL when I’m struggling.

I take off my glasses and rub my temples.

It started a few months ago.

It happened less tonight.

Lots of kind people in.

Lots of amazing compliments.

One man who I don’t remember meeting before (and he was super handsome, so I’d remember) said we know you from TLF. We are so excited to be here.

I thanked him for coming and said to let me know what he thought after dinner.

He replied, if you are in charge here it’s going to be great.

Meanwhile, a regular, who is a psychic, came in tonight. I gave her a big hug. After dinner she went out to her car and came back with a stone and said I looked like I could use this.

I told her she had no idea how much I did need this today.

Then I thought to myself, we’ll, she is a psychic so she probably did know.

Meanwhile we continue to plug along.

Two steps forward.

One step back.

But always gayly forward.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

People email me for large party reservations.

Today a man emailed me ti change from 16 people to 24.

I made the change. And emailed him back.

He relied: thanks sweetheart.

Hmmm.

I’ve told Adam that I have a new boyfriend.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Today.

Was a day.

It started with TLF being short staffed.

As a rule.

Since I’ve been a GM I don’t deny requests off.

Most of the time it’s fine.

Sometimes.

Like tonight.

It fucks me.

Hard.

Without buying me drinks first.

We had 7 servers tonight.

We should have had 10/11.

We had three bartenders.

We should have had four.

We had 6 food runners.

We should have had 8/9.

Short.

And we asked the world of our team.

And they delivered.

We turned no one away.

And.

Most everyone appeared at the end unscathed.

I did get a letter of resignation but I was not surprised.

Although it did make me sad.

They got through it.

Meanwhile at UM we are also short staffed.

I have one bartender.

I’m supposed to have three.

We did turn people away.

There is no way to keep up as a bartender and do service drinks for a million people.

I handled the bartender with care.

I turned off reservations at the bar.

And only took a few walkins.

Service went great.

Except for about 20 minutes at 7:45/8:00 when I over sat the dining room.

Luckily the downstairs bartender came up and helped out.

Here’s the part that drives me insane.

I cannot.

Tell someone no at the bar.

Without pushback.

I’ve tried gentle.

I’ve tried firm.

I’ve tried explanations.

I’ve tried lying.

No one cares.

It leads me to believe we have an alcohol problem in America.

I love love love to drink.

I’m sipping a bourbon as I type.

But if you told me no tonight. I would not lose my mind.

All night people came in.

All night I said no to sitting at the bar.

All night I got pushback.

Around 7:30 two guys seat themselves at the bar.

A server comes over and asks if they sat themselves.

I had not even noticed.

I send over to tell the they need to check in with host.

One of them comes over.

Hot.

I explain that I don’t have room at the bar tonight.

He pushes back.

I explain that they can go downstairs.

He pushes back but leaves.

His friend stays.

I approach him at the bar.

He will not take no for an answer.

Ive told him he can get drinks downstairs.

I’ve told him we have reservations for these chairs.

He wants to stay.

Why can’t I stay?

Because we have reservations.

But the chairs are empty.

I say, yes. That’s how reservations work. The chairs are empty till the reservation arrives.

He is pissed.

But leaves.

He calls me choice words at the host stand.

Meanwhile a reservation arrives.

They have reserved a table.

They want the bar.

I explain that we can’t accommodate them.

We seat them. 20 minutes later he comes up to me and accosts me because the chairs are still empty.

I have no time for it.

I am not kind.

6 seconds later table 43 leaves.

I ask how their dinner was.

All was good but we need a better bartender. The Sri is room too long.

He says this loudly so the bartender will hear. It’s not for my benefit.

I’m having none of this.

I say the bartender is out with a broken arm.

He says no she’s not, she’s downstairs.

I all but tell him he’s an asshole.

He knows I’m pissed.

I look. The four of them were in the restaurant 1:45.

They didn’t take that long.

Meanwhile we’ve seated the 8:00’s and the bar us backed up.

Turns out asshole from earlier has gone downstairs.

He’s done nothing but complain about me.

He’s told the bartender he’s a lawyer.

And that we are losing his revenue by not letting him drink upstairs.

He doesn’t see the irony that he’s drinking booze. Priced the same. In another venue. That shares revenue.

I’ve just nothing.

He goes on and on.

I tell the bartender to let him know that if he’d gone to business school he might understand this better.

She shared that she asked him if he ever worked in a restaurant.

He said no.

And she said then you do t know what you’re taking about.

They left 6%.

I hope he’s not a lawyer that deals with money.

Then table 43 leaves. Without ordering food.

The mother is mad because she can’t eat anything.

Because we have a pepper that’s in the marinade on our chicken.

She can’t eat spicy food.

On a scale of one to ten the pepper is a -4.

The server told them this.

I tell the server they can leave but they have to pay for the beverages.

I print the check.

I approach the woman and explain this.

And she attacks.

I tell her it’s not spicy.

I tell her we can get other things

She agrees to sit back down.

Her family is embarrassed.

She is acting like a child.

They never recover.

The husband eats and leaves.

Her very cute son is horrified.

The daughter is apologetic.

She grunts at me when she leaves.

Meanwhile.

I’m exhausted.

Beat.

How do you say no to someone about the bar without them yelling at you.

I’ve tried just no.

I’ve tried telling the truth.

I’ve tried reservations.

Nothing works.

Meanwhile.

I’m fucking exhausted.

I’m tired.

I’m ready for fall.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Our dining room is akways cold.

People complain all night.

Tonight it was hot.

At 7:35 I’m sweating.

It’s 74*.

I go to the thermostat.

I adjust it.

10 minutes later.

Nothing.

I adjust it again.

I make sure it’s on cool.

I make sure the fans are on

Nada. It’s 76*.

I turn it off.

I turn it back on.

Nada.

It’s 78*.

Finally I go to the kitchen and ask the chef if he can check the breakers.

He does.

Nada.

It’s 80*.

I text Chef and say the dining room a/c is not working.

30 seconds later the chef at my restaurant says the thermostat is set on 80. Someone has turned it up.

And sometimes I think I’m losing my mind.

I was turning the thermostat up.

Not down.

10 minutes later it was down to 72*

I owned my stupidity.

I didn’t blame anyone.

I didn’t pretend it wasn’t me.

But I still felt really. Really stupid.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Angry August was in full force tonight.

First 7:00 rolls around and tables are not turning.

A four top comes in.

I recognize one of the women.

She is excited to see me and hugs me.

We chat for a few minutes and she introduces me to her friends.

She says her daughter finally got a job as a sous chef across town at an upscale restaurant.

Their table is ready.

They are taken in by the host.

They are not happy with their table and are asking if they can sit at a two top.

I’m confused as to how this is supposed to happen and the couple for the two top is being seated now.

They ask for me.

I approach the table.

The woman I know speaks.

They are disappointed because they don’t have a window seat. Their friends are from away. They came for the view.

I explain that I can’t ever guarantee a table because I can’t control when people get up.

They change tactics.

They proceed to tell me our beautiful booths are uncomfortable. That they are unbearable. And there is no way anyone should be expected to sit like this.

I don’t even engage.

We’ve sat 100’s of people no one has complained.

I listen. I don’t apologize. And I finally explain that they are at the only table I have.

I leave.

40 minutes later they approach me at the host stand and ask if they can switch tables now.

I think to myself if my mother behaved like this knowing I work in the industry I’d be mortified.

I say no.

Unfortunately, it’s too late to move.

Now it’s 7:20 and tables are still slow.

A four top comes in early. Sits in the lobby. They are offered drinks by the bartender.

I go into the lobby.

See a woman standing there and say hello. She lets me k ow she is waiting to be seated at the bar. I notice the host had already checked her in.

It’s 7:23. Everyone waiting is a 7:30 reservation.

I go back to the dining room to formulate a plan.

I head back to the lobby and there is a man standing at the bar.

I approach him.

I may I help you.

He looks at me and says who are you?

I explain that I am the manager and ask if I can help him.

He says he getting a drink.

I tell him that unfortunately he can’t get a drink at the bar.

He says I can’t get a drink?

I say unfortunately no.

He says we’ll those people have drinks.

I explain that the bartender got them drinks.

He says he’s been waiting out there but Jo one got him drink.

I try to explain it’s because he’s not sitting at a cocktail table.

He moves back to the bar.

I say, I’m sorry sir but you can’t belly up to the bar for a drink.

He says so I can’t get a drink and stand over there.

He’s getting angry.

I say no you can’t belly up to the bar.

He says I seriously can’t get a drink from the bartender and drink it while I wait.

I say you can’t belly up to the bar.

He’s retorts you’ve said that four times already.

And I say, and yet you’re still here.

He immediately wants my name.

And unbeknownst to me he begins videoing me as I move around the restaurant.

Someone I know at the bar tells me this is happening

He is finally seated and he continues to video me. I wave at him like Forest Gump.

They eat dinner.

As both parties leave I genuinely thank them for coming in.

Neither spoke to me.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I aspire to never be the employee who quits without notice and then gets responses of joy when said leaving is shared with the rest of the staff at preshift.

Nope.

Never want that.